Ode to Writer's Block - Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community

mojodragon · 01-31-2005, 03:59 PM

I've got words deep inside of me, gasping for air
They try to stay hidden, yet I know they are there
My mission in life is to set them all free
I don't guess it's fun being stuck inside me

I've released a few as you no doubt can see
Yet for every one, I've missed twenty three
My fingers get tied up in knots when I type
They must be great words to be causing this hype

Some are pure genius and some are just tripe
These smell like roses, and those are too ripe
They stick on the tip of my tongue when I speak
This blank I keep drawing makes me want to shriek

I made up my mind and I've planned this all week
Yet when the time came I grew suddenly meek
The words wouldn't come when I needed them most
They all disappeared, I was left with a ghost

To writer's block, I must raise a toast
I've freed so many words that I may as well post
Reader, please comment, as it's only fair
So next time I'm writing, I'll happily share.

tecoyah · 02-01-2005, 08:26 AM

Well.....I gotta say, So much for the writters block.

Well done

vivahate · 02-01-2005, 02:18 PM

What writers block?!

<b>Writer's block.</b>
Embittered lack of ingenuity. It leaves me feeling idle.
I wail; melodramatically
tortured by the complacent energy hiding
in my incoherent limbs & consequentially
I channel this energy into incessent screams.
Words refuse to tessilate.
They repel & collide with the ineptitude of a stagnant puppet,
Radiating effete values of ridiculous passivity.

A strain to allow simple verbs to flow from thought,
to pen, to paper,
to some contradicted reality.
But no reality, as I appear to be indocrinated and obvious.
Beginnings of sentences, inevitable & abominable.
They will never finish.
Thoughts are so rapid that they become a series of flatulent
(but fractured and indistinguishable)
idealisms. "Existance is only a game".
I do not posess the integrity needed to be a writer.
Cellular fingerprints are left all over every medium,
never to be returned and seldom to be remembered.
Appreciation proscribed. Compliments void by default.

Stagefright. The limelight is deadly.

01-31-2005, 03:59 PM	#1 (permalink)
mojodragon Darth Mojo Location: Right behind you...	I've got words deep inside of me I've got words deep inside of me, gasping for air They try to stay hidden, yet I know they are there My mission in life is to set them all free I don't guess it's fun being stuck inside me I've released a few as you no doubt can see Yet for every one, I've missed twenty three My fingers get tied up in knots when I type They must be great words to be causing this hype Some are pure genius and some are just tripe These smell like roses, and those are too ripe They stick on the tip of my tongue when I speak This blank I keep drawing makes me want to shriek I made up my mind and I've planned this all week Yet when the time came I grew suddenly meek The words wouldn't come when I needed them most They all disappeared, I was left with a ghost To writer's block, I must raise a toast I've freed so many words that I may as well post Reader, please comment, as it's only fair So next time I'm writing, I'll happily share. Last edited by mojodragon; 02-01-2005 at 04:26 AM..

02-01-2005, 08:26 AM	#2 (permalink)
tecoyah Illusionary	Well.....I gotta say, So much for the writters block. Well done __________________ Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha

02-01-2005, 02:18 PM	#3 (permalink)
vivahate Upright Location: Hertfordshire, UK.	What writers block?! <b>Writer's block.</b> Embittered lack of ingenuity. It leaves me feeling idle. I wail; melodramatically tortured by the complacent energy hiding in my incoherent limbs & consequentially I channel this energy into incessent screams. Words refuse to tessilate. They repel & collide with the ineptitude of a stagnant puppet, Radiating effete values of ridiculous passivity. A strain to allow simple verbs to flow from thought, to pen, to paper, to some contradicted reality. But no reality, as I appear to be indocrinated and obvious. Beginnings of sentences, inevitable & abominable. They will never finish. Thoughts are so rapid that they become a series of flatulent (but fractured and indistinguishable) idealisms. "Existance is only a game". I do not posess the integrity needed to be a writer. Cellular fingerprints are left all over every medium, never to be returned and seldom to be remembered. Appreciation proscribed. Compliments void by default. Stagefright. The limelight is deadly.