Accepting the Punishments of My Muses

A writer's block piece.

 Don't the trees blowing softly in the breeze
Know that they should resemble something else?
They're giving no similes or metaphors
For me to use to convey any connection to my finite mind.

Nothing is cooperating with the poet today.

All of the deeper meanings have sunken into their own dark realms,
No wowing simplifications can be observed.
The rocks are refusing to cry out to me,
The faces have all decided to betray my deeper comprehensions.

Nobody is allowing me to turn the wonders of humanity into catchy phrases.

There's a shoeless little girl sitting on the gravel outside the corner store crying,
I can't compare her to anything. Who the hell does she think she is?
Doesn't she know how important it is for me to put her pain
Into some intangible context so that it doesn't hurt me so bad?

Nothing, no one, no place cares how I feel today.

Even the road kill denies me my escape from it's gut twisting jolt.
The living and the dead have found me guilty of bullshitting.
My sentence is obviously to look at all things for what they truly are;
To feel the lack of relent in a world that is too real to be manipulated by my pen.

The poet reluctantly concedes to his lot.

What good is a poet who is too self absorbed to accept the punishments of his muses?
I will see it all today, with no words to flush the ugliness and beauty away.
I know the Creator; the Eternal Poet, is the Author of all things.
Today, I'll just let all credit go to creation, and I'll shut up for a change.

Maybe the rocks can teach me to be silent and accept what comes.

Reviews

[.s h a d o w s i n s t ..]

"There's a shoeless little girl sitting on the gravel outside the corner store crying,
I can't compare her to anything. Who the hell does she think she is?
Doesn't she know how important it is for me to put her pain
Into some intangible context so that it doesn't hurt me so bad?"

I really found that stanza so welcoming and understandable. Life is inspiration, and not always a joyful one. I'd up the font size a bit, but the poem is really diverse and profound.

[Adelia Alighieri]

I loved it...it's gentle and all true.
Hi 5!