Blank Pages

white noise blinding..........

Blank Pages

 

I often wonder

Does your waste bin

Ever truly overflow

With the countless

Crumpled corpses

Like mine does daily

Mid drafts of

Discarded would be

Poems

Mine always seems

To do just that these days

 

I wonder

Do you anguish

Over blank desolate and

Desperate sheets

While your coffee grows

Cold

And ever more

Despondent

While

Once bright memories

Fog opaquely

 

I wonder

Do you ever consider

Throwing in the towel

Or surrendering

Gracefully to me  

The knowing would

Indeed be

A fine thing and most

Worthy of at least

A senryu surely…....

 

 

 

Reviews

[barleygirl]

From the many poems posted about struggling to write, I'd say your line of questioning will drive an arrow into many hearts. I am lucky that I don't have many false starts when I sit down to write. But then again, I envy writers who spew a bunch of detritus between takes becuz they might begin writing from a place that's closer to the authentic chaos of being human (((WIGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Neville]

aw am gushin here my friend... (PLUGS) a plenty.... N

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice poem about writing. Sometimes it takes a while to craft a poem. Usuallly I make poems base on my life.

[Neville]

I find myself writing about a lot of things... thank you for considering some of them...... Neville

[Kesch (Finding Julia)]

I think about throwing in the towel every day, I enjoyed this write, it is very emotional and makes one think.

[Neville]

thank you again my friend and poet...

[Kesch (Finding Julia)]

not a problem

[Fay Slimm]

Yup - - bin is piled high and coffee's gone cold reading this - - so am gracefully surrendering to thee............... x

[Neville]

cheers Fay... much appreciated as always.. N

[alanwgraham]

I know the feeling Neville. I have spells when ideas for writing swirl around in my head but don't get recorded. I've told myself often to carry a notebook always but I forget. On the other hand there are plenty of other things to do and I have a fair collection of stories from the last five years. It's easy to be too hard on ourselves. There are plenty of us here that enjoy your witty and thought provoking offerings.
Take care.
Alan

[Neville]

Cheers Alan, tis good to know ya not alone innit...... N

[Robert Trakofler]

ha ha were you writing this to me my wonderful friend:) my dustbin is overflowing my coffee cup some days:) no i'm lying i throw the sheets to my cat he loves crumpled paper but not before i transcribe them to my confounded file now that is a lofty file indeed:) now me I must say I doubt very much escapes your hand an ever flowing stream of seems... seem come to your tap!

[Neville]

bless ya Bun.... always appreciated and bloomin true too........... :)

[Kay Salisu Titilola]

Writing fever is what I could called this.
Being carried away by writing. Making mistake, tearing up the page, folding the paper, throwing it down and heading for a new page. It even gets me frustrated sometimes if I kept making mistake over and over again while tearing up the sheet and keep littering the floor with it.
Another thing is that if I'm pondering for what to write, I often forget to eat until I found it penned successfully.

Good one, Neville.

[Neville]

thank you.. just you take care now... ok

[Kay Salisu Titilola]

* smile *

[Neville]

..................... :)ing back at ya

[Lorry]

I find keeping a page of words or phrases that first captured my interest, to be glimpsed at another time. If it captures me again, it was meant to be.
I have no idea what I was thinking when I scribbled potato dwarf explosion though.

[Neville]

smiling my way to oblivion.........

[Lorry]

I'll send an RR when it's done 😀

[Neville]

gotcha... 10 4 good buddy...

[Eilis]

A lot of potential ways for the wondering to go with this. Poetry seems to be a grand way of coming at these questions and the act of it is sometimes enough to not need to know the actual answers.

The gift of creativity is one of the greatest, seemingly superfluous, things we were given in inheriting our humanity. But it is not without snags. The reaching for things that always seem to remain just out of the frame. But, that doesn't stop us trying. Those overflowing waste bins can be a sort of badge of achievement for the struggling poet. The act is sometimes sufficient. Of course sometimes it just frustrates further. But.

A beautiful pleading end to this one, Neville. I hope you are well there, my friend.

[Neville]

I am well and all the better for your kind visit.............

[Chris Shaw]

Par for the course if you are a poet Neville.

I wonder if there's a heaven
for all discarded words
Where far from being wasted
they're found and they are heard.

Chris

[Neville]

You need to get that down darn quick madam... a luverly sentiment indeed & thank you so much for padding out this page Chris.... Neville x

[Chris Shaw]

You are welcome and maybe I might just be able to pad out those lines I added to your page. Have a lovely day Neville x

[Neville]

You too Chris x