Sharp Tender Shock

I am desperate to write. My story outline sits stagnant, waiting for me to pay attention, the characters are off to the side, and their are arms folded impatiently waiting for me to get my poop in a group.  I am still stifled by the 9 to 5 but maybe now I’m using that as an excuse because my lofty procrastination has turned into another painful bout of writer’s block.  It is entirely my fault for not writing.  I should be writing.  And trust me, I am trying.

The good news is, I am reading a lot and taking in live music shows to keep me breathing.  I did manage to get a lovely weekend away from the grind but I maintain I still require a retreat.  Absolute solitude, no technology, no distractions.  If I didn't require a steady paycheck I’d be gone in a heartbeat.

I just want to be artful. 

And, in the spirit of wanting to be artful on the last day of the long weekend and since I didn't post a single thing in the month of August, I set a goal for myself to write a poem today.  

This was the result:

 Sharp Tender Shock

You, in the brazen sun

a concept easily quoted

a sharp critical engagement

an event among philosophers.

You, fixed in a delicious swirl

throwing a tender muted gaze

speaking an intoxicating language

an unprecedented artful arrangement.

You, safe in the comforts of metaphor

a stimulating shock of necessary illusion

a threshold to the fall of cinnamon rain

a font of deeply decorous translations.

I invited you to the end of this poem

to reference the sharp tender shock I am

in from the tenacity of your turgid heart

where I am permitted to mention a thing

so vulgar as love.

**

Phew.  It's icky but it is writing, right?  Right.

You'd think that after watching Dwight Twilley's soundcheck yesterday, getting a hug from Garland Jeffreys and sitting in on a songwriter's workshop by Brian Potvin (Northern Pikes) and David Pirner (Soul Asylum) I'd have more to say.  But in all honesty, I'm still in awe of my day. of those artists.  I did soak up some mojo though.  Maybe this week I will set small attainable goals for writing.  Even a page an evening.  I think I can handle that.  Maybe I need to revisit the concept of writing prompts again.  Ugh.

In propinquity, 

Nic