The Writing Process

Staring at a blank page,
What will it become?
How do I gauge,
What I’ve done?

Will it be funny

Filled with trepidation,

Will my words be seen?
Do I want them to be?
Is it really me?
Am I too mean

To myself,
Forget about anyone else
I’ve got to be true
And love what I do

But still the page is blank
And I haven’t laughed
Nothing left in the tank
But still I go on.

Writings never done
Just go back to page one
Edit, edit, edit some more
Throw it at the door.

Mail it? Nah.
Critique it? Nah.
Hide it?
Keep it secret.

Until it’s ready,
(When will that be?)
Work is steady
Does it satisfy me?

Plenty to say
Plenty to hear
Not enough writing
Done in a year.

Staring at a blank page
Mocking me
Until I visualize the page

Something from nothing,
That’s the dream,
Philosopher’s stone
Or alchemy…

King Midas I’m not,
But I’d like to think
I’ve got some gold
Just on the brink

Of my fingers
Just waiting to spill
Out of the keyboard
Just need the will

To write
To sit still
Clear the mind
Struggle to find

Yet the page is still blank
Ideas float and sail
Reaching for one
My arms flail

Just start typing
Hoping to find
Words to describe
The scene in my mind

And not word vomit
Clouding my page
Polluting the white
Adding to my rage.

No longer blank,
The page stares back
I don’t want to read it
So I’ll walk away

Maybe look at it another day

For now it sits,
Just waiting for eyes to hug

And enjoy the words
Written on the page
Don’t leave it lonely
To die of old age.


About bkreuch

I like to read, I like to write, and I like to make people laugh.
This entry was posted in Humor, Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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