The Fear

Benjamin Jenkins, life, New England, New Hampshire, poem, poems, poetry, Portsmouth, writing

Heavy influence of substances

Stops the thought process.

Heavy influence of caffeine

Keeps me keen.

Write a horrid mass of

Marble-bag words and splatter plots.

 

Gnawing influence of imposed obligations

Stops the flow of ink.

Bleed not from the pen-

But from cracks in the inkwell.

 

I write to keep the crazy away

I write nothing because I don’t write.

Reading is practice for writing.

Living is practice for writing.

 

I need to sit down.

Digest the white noise:

The moments that do not

Make their way into memory.

 

Spill words onto this graph paper.

Record these internal musings.

Ride rapids and river bends,

Reach for squeaky, organic reeds.

Don’t succumb to the doubt,

Eyes closed and fingers pensive.

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4 thoughts on “The Fear

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