i always think of amazing things to write about
then i sit down and the words won't flow out
feel like i always have to prove to people that i can write
but what good is it, half baked idea don't come out tight
and i'm sick of this thing we all call writer's block
they say work right through it but that's just a crock
'cuz how can i write through the blank space in my mind?
so many ideas, so little time, and i get a shortage
not enough money to pay the mortgage for this desk
and this mac and these keys and these notebooks
a struggling girl, that's not good looks
i have books filled with ideas but they leave me with a bad taste in my mouth
i go to another blog and see that SHE just wrote what i was thinking about
i don't want to be a copy, carbon or loose i just want to see the people in suits
going over my work, telling me they love me, wanna send my book to Borders,
yeah that would be lovely.
and other times the stories just flow right out, quicker than i have time to think
what's this really about? hidden metaphors even i don't see first time around
get my head out of the clouds, it's crunch time now
or never, get this story out onto the paper, make some edits and ask for some favors
can you look over my work? can you tell me you love it so i don't feel like a jerk
sending it out to contests and sometimes i win, never won the big prize but maybe it's
just a matter of time, one day i'll see my name in lights, headlining a poetry show
man i don't know... but it could happen! i could perform with michelle tea in manhattan
and you'd come to my show with your boys and stay for the whole performance
and i could go home with you and see your performance, you know what i mean
young romance, it basically grows on trees, make like Aoide and touch me
i have to say that although i complain i've been blessed with a gift that i'd never give up even when it's a curse, when the pain is worse than any physical cut, i know that it will heal, for this gift is real, never mind the appeal, its something you're born with but you gotta work on it too, now i'ma go work on it, bye boo.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Posted by mermaidqueen at 10:08 AM
Labels: poetry and prose
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