So I’ve been writing a lot lately and unfortunately it hasn’t been on this blog. For that, faithful readers, (all two of you), I apologize. The truth of the matter is that I have been consumed by the desire to write short stories (and I actually started on a novel, which should be fun).
And I know what I just said sounds like pretentious crap (and you’d probably be right to think that), but I recently got over a long bout of writer’s block and I’ve just been glad to celebrate by doing all sorts of sporadic wordsmithing.
So, in honor of my happiness and joy at my rediscovered writing inspiration, I’m going to go a little bit out of my comfort zone (and my element… I looked for a video clip for the scene in the Big Lebowski and couldn’t find one…) by posting one of my previously-written poems relating to this specific subject.
I don’t plan on making this a habit (unless this poem jumps my readers up from like 6 to about 1,000…or if the six of you that do read it give me an overwhelmingly positive response), so if you don’t care for it, just come back for the next blog post and things should be back to normal.
I plan on getting a post up about my musician friend Joey Ryan soon (he has a new band, which is awesome), amongst other posts waiting to be written and read. For now, read this poem and let me know what you think, good or bad. But just so you know, I’d prefer good.
Here it goes:
Writer’s Blocked
My writing’s blocked by writer’s block
and the tick-tock on the clicking clock
tactlessly’s distracting me
from going on my writing spree.
Unlikely that I’d like the write;
excuse me, writing (sounds more right)
if what I’m writing isn’t right.
So, still, I cannot write tonight
or write today, what I’m to say
on pages lit by light of day.
Did I say “say?” I did mean “write;”
“saying” words onto paper is not quite right.
Unless the reader’s lacking sight
in which case saying’s the best write
(or way to write, as I should say)
so that my words are on display
to those who might be out of sight.
Not to say they can’t be seen,
but, their eyes can’t see a scene
unless said scene is painted, see,
with words and sounds of imagery.
And so the job is up to me
to help the blind to better see
and help their minds run blindly free
and send them on a seeing spree.
And now I see it seems to be
my writer’s block’s become a spree.
Creativity’s come back to me;
my once blind eyes, again, can see.
-Mike Billeter (written 5-7-2008…and add an intellectual property claim or copyright or something like that to the poem too)
So that’s my poem. I’m not always inclined to share my writings with a public audience, and usually my stuff isn’t this lighthearted, but I’m in a good mood so I figured it was worth throwing out there. Also, this should be plenty of material for your ever-heartwarming comments that you’re looking forward to leaving, Jason.
-“I’ve been in the poem of many a poet and I reside in the art of many an artist…”