The Writer...

outside the mind...it hurts...

The writer put down his pen

Walked to the front door

Opened it

The rays of the sun burned

His skin

Gravity pulled on his writer’s paunch

All that experience

All that stimuli

Bombarding his eyes

Draining his imagination

The breeze pulled him outside

He shivered with the clean crisp air

Blowing in from the lake

The scent of algae in late june

Dead fish littering the shoreline

Even the pungent whiff of a baby raccoon

That never made it across the busy road

Young women running along the roadside

Tight jogging outfits

Long muscular legs pumping

Multiple neon colors beaming from the garden

The lawn and trees bleeding an electric green

The writer grabbed the door jam

Pulled with all his strength

And managed his way inside

The vacuum sealed the door close

He was safe again

The dim lit home

photos of ghosts from his life

The faint scent of fruit long gone bad

He plops himself down

In his ratty old chair

He took from a dumpster

Behind an office building

He taps the keyboard

Its green light glows brightly

As the CPU fan roars to life

It’s his world again

Where all sensations exist in his mind

And nothing is real

Clickity clack

A new world develops

Clickity clack

People are birthed from

The clay of Microsoft Word

A few more clicks

A few more clacks

And his fingers race along the alphabet

And soon…..

“The writer put down his pen

Walked to the door….”

Author's Note

Reviews

[Ruth]

Yes!!!
Missed you hon :)
"Gravity pulled on his writer’s paunch".......love this line, the imagery speaks for the whole poem love...what weight are the ideas and influences carrying, the depths of the imagination is not a light thing to carry! For me, this line makes it all!!!
Brilliant poem, loved it...and of course...classic song! lol
xoxo

[Brad]

thank you! good to see you...sorry so far and few, hope all is well

[Ruth]

All is well love...good to see you xoxo

[Kimberly "Melody" Carne..]

I know that sometimes the world we create in our heads most often times is far better than what lingers outside our door. Yet, this is where we live, we must. For the readers of the writers world is out there. I loved the verbal- visual. Wonderful poem and my favored line,” He was safe again the dim lit home photos of ghosts from his life”. This made me think…

[Michael of Gilead]

Brad, Brad, Brad. How many times have I told you to go outside and play? ;)

I getcha man, wasted plenty of time inside when I should have been enjoying life....

This tintinnabulation of girls might be hawt, I better look into it ;)

[Ed Hart]

yes...often enough i wonder why i'm inside trying to fit a few words together, when right outside my door the world in all its colors is on parade, including the girls girls girls...see the tintinnabulation of the girls girls girls, of the girls girls girls girls girls girls girls

[...]

Some new stimuli was tempting after all :))) I think it"s like a drunk having one more drink after he is already completely hammered! You are always an interesting read :)

[Brad]

thank you, maidahl, did some editing..i didn't see where i said "green" algae...i just said algae, but i did say "electric green" describing the grass. i wanted the adjectives (though obvious to most) to stand out because this is a guy who spends most of his life indoors and trapped in his own version of reality...and the world outside has so many sensations it is almost alien to him.

[Laura Maidah]

Verbose in places. I like the touch of the scent of green algae, for example, but we know algae is green already. "Green" is redundant. You had a few of those. You might want to opt for an edit.