A Poem by Sandy Phan
Writer’s Block.
We meet again.
Old friend and fearsome foe,
you know as well as I,
I’ve no time to rhyme away
your wicked, willful sabotage—
the Critic lodged
between idea and action,
amidst my faith in fiction.
I believe the story’s spiraled up inside,
just waiting to unwind
and find its life upon the page.
Each letter waged upon your war
means more moments marching
across my screen,
scenes mingling in dense detail,
dialogue dueling to trade a tale,
roles ripening in twisting plots
and shifting shots at crafting characters
who long to breathe beyond this bookish brain.
I’ll train my muse to pry prose loose
from bouts of blockage…
besting you.
SandyInspired Comments: I have a short story due in my fiction class this week. And each time I sit down to write, my inner critic cries, “Too trite!”, “Not quite right!” and “Give it up, already!” Except, I’m a hopeless nerd who can’t stand the thought of getting a bad grade–even if it’s in a class I’m taking for my own edification. So I’m plodding along to meet this deadline and make the grade. I’ve sucked all the joy out of getting to know a new character and fleshing out a subtle scene.
Writer’s Block has me surrounded at the edge of surrender. But I’m standing my ground and parrying with poetry. There’s a zone I enter when writing a poem, a place where words are luscious morsels of mystery and delight, rapping out a rhythm of unexpected revelation. So here’s my strategy: To bring prose into this spawning space of wordworking wonders. Take that, Writer’s Block!
SandyInspired 