When I Used To Write Good

When I used to write well,

I would take hold of any moment,

picture, place, time, and emotion,

and bring the words with me...

everywhere I go.

My hand would write stories.

Flowing perfectly,

like the ink in my pen.

The grasp I had was incredible,

but what happened since then?

The same excitement,

is still a thrill for me.

Although there is patterns,

patterns in the grass,

that confuse me.

As I listen

to the children down my street,

I wonder if they will one day,

be as tainted as I am...

If they can see the same patterns,

in the grass.

 

Maybe one day,

they'll teach me what they mean...

 

Reviews

[Vertigo Cat1111]

When you first begin writing, there's a sense of endless excitement, you write every day and every detail, whether it be good or not, and it's such a huge passion and you love it. And then there comes a time as you get better and better, nothing you write feels good enough. The magical thing about writing, is so much is unique, everyone has a message and only some can understand and interpret it the same you way meant it. Everything is up to interperation, but you, who seems to be a seasoned writer, got across the message SO so well. I can FEEL the writer's block, I can feel the frustration, the longing to 'write good again'. That feeling is so annoying like you can't get past anything, like your stuck behind a brick wall, and you captured it so brilliantly.

It's such an amazing poem and I'm so happy you put it on here. Please keep writing! Because you do so brilliantly and capture the reader's attention and make them feel exactly what you write.

[barleygirl]

I love your title. Makes me want to click & see where you take this. Your message seems to acknowledge, for me, that we have different writing jags thru-out life. Sometimes we have to let one writing jag dry up before the next one will begin. As writers we continually evolve. To me, the ultimate in being ALIVE while writing is to achieve that unbalanced teetering feeling that you're going beyond your usual patterns. I love your "patterns in the grass" metaphor for many reasons, not just as a reflection of how writing might run its fingers thru our hair (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Broken.]

Haha definitely catches a true writers eye huh??? Lol.. Thank you always for your kind words. Sorry I've been behind ): trying to catch up as we speak (: will be visiting your new writes soon! Xxx

[Chris Shaw]

Once a writer always a writer. Something may have made it difficult to concentrate. Illness does that both physical and mental. Not only that the muse can go periodically. You will write again, I have no doubt about that. The children down the street? They will always have their own problems. They won:t be the same as yours because we are all unique.

Chris

[Broken.]

Isn't that true! I am glad you have taken the time to read this one Chris, it shows a lot of my struggle. Thank you for the positivity. It is much appreciated. Cheers

[BrokenButterfly]

The level of dissociation between you and your writing (ie - ...my hand would write... [as opposed to the words necessarily coming from your own mind?]) really struck a chord with me. When the words flow best, rhyme most smoothly, and make the most sense, those are times it comes without trying, it just flows out of you onto paper or screen before you even think it - at least, for me. I wonder if that's what you were getting at here in the first part.

As for the children, they literally and figuratively have a different perspective on the world, so I must say it is quite possible that they're able to see patterns but they may not be the ones you see.

This is an excellent write, the structure is pretty free but it manages to flow so smoothly! And it really makes you think. Even if what I get from it isn't what you meant, it makes a reader think - to see their own patterns, to contemplate what their experiences have done to them. Excellent, really.

[Ronn Michael Salinas]

whoa those kids can't know more than you. I can quite tell you, the grass can't comb or groom itself. don't be counting grass now