Clearly, I didn’t make my goal of 30 poems in 30 days. Life happens. I still intend to deliver the last three as my writer’s block permits. Persuant to which…

On Not Finishing NaPoWriMo

The words all bleed and blend and blur,

Like sidewalk chalk in rain.

I shriek and moan inside my head,

Gone half-mad with the strain.

 

I try to force, somehow coerce,

Bend language to my will.

Although it’s worked so many times,

It seems I’ve lost that skill.

 

But wait! What’s this? A line or two,

And now a couple more.

Don’t dare to hope, just let them be,

Perhaps they’ll flow once more.

 

But now again I feel them slip,

In muddy, flailing haste.

I try to grasp and desperate cling,

To these poor words I’ve chased.

 

My voice fades out to nothingness,

And with it all I’ve made.

The ragged, tattered pages shred,

And now like them I fade.

 

Please bear with me, I’ll be right back,

My tortured brain must rest.

T’was hubris drove me here for I’m,

Not equal to this test.

 

Cheers, Winston