11/05/2015: Stuck

Here is another poem, riffing on the theme of artist’s block.

Sitting, I stare.
Stuck.
The blank screen before me, taunting me like caged prisoner.
The desperation to act, yet the inability to do so.
No words come to mind.
No poem or story or joke or letter.
A camera sits to my right.
A photograph?
Film?
No.
I can’t see the image I want.
The tedium of waiting for the idea is broken by an email sent.
More note than noteworthy.
And then, back to the blank screen.
But what if I did have an idea?
What then?
What if I had an idea?
Then I would have to do something.
Move.
Go… create.
Discomfort.
Comfort.
Discomfort.
Comfort.
Discomfort.
Comfort.
Discomfort.
Comfort.
Discomfort.
Both good.
Both bad.
But still I wait.
Waiting for the idea.
Waiting for the muse to strike me with all the fury of a meteorite.
Sitting, I stare.
Stuck.