Weaving Gold

Mokosha, Anastasia Sophia, and Me, Natalia . . . while the books are written

Writer’s Block, Loosened

400px-John_William_Waterhouse_-_Magic_Circle.JPG

The Magic Circle by John William Waterhouse, 1886 (public domain)

 

Open unmarked page.
Words creep on, splay.
Thoughts contract,
Vanish.
Blank!
Anguish.
Persevere!
Stir the cauldron.
Create magical worlds.


 

Inspired by Jane Dougherty’s Poetry challenge #20: Hourglass poetry. Mine looks more like a chalice than an hourglass.

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Dear Muse

Saraswati by Pieter Weltevrede

Saraswati by Pieter Weltevrede

How do I get you to stay
make my work-writing play?
You gave me a story
in all of its glory
then left me — ran far, far away.

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Uniquely Me

It’s all been done.
It’s all been said.
No need to write.
I’ll stay in bed.

I’ll sit in stillness
on the dock.
Doing nothing
’til it’s dark.

I’ll tweet a ditty,
scroll a while.
If I’m lucky
I shall smile
as I remind myself once more
it’s not been said my way before.

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Inspiring Myself to Write

I want to want to write.
I fight to ignite my delight.

Pencil to paper.
Keys clacking away.
There is so much
I want to say.

I yearn to reveal
the story made whole.
No need to conceal
all that I don’t know.

No need to hide
all the ways that I fail,
sure — without cause —
that I shall prevail.

Characters waking,
their tales to tell.
An urging inside me
is starting to swell.

Delight is ignited.
I’m going to write it.

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The Long Winter

IMG_4959.jpgThe last time I opened the Scrivener document that is my work in progress, 56,944 words were written. That was eight months ago. The word counter reports the same number of words this morning.

I have written about not writing. I hibernated, gestated, lay dormant. I want the seeds of my ideas to sprout. I want them to burst through the frozen dirt, powered by magic and stored energy. I want them to soar skyward with ease, at an astounding rate.

I want Talitha and Anastasia Sophia to wake from their long slumbers. I want their walls to fall away. I want them to emerge from their shells. I want my characters to unleash their stories, whispering lovely and horrid details in my ears, showing me images and movies, so that I may record them in journal pages and computer documents, so that they may be seen and heard.

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