Oddments

In search of story


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Dam!

I have been in a place of real horror. It’s somewhere inside me. It stops me from writing. Even emailing has become too much of a challenge.

It isn’t any want of words. It’s that there are too many words. Too many images. Too many feelings, questions. I cannot latch on to a one of them. It is impossible to think a thought from beginning to middle, let alone from beginning to end. Let alone write it! There’s a dam there. And the water keeps rising and swirling, gathering into itself ever more words. And images. And thoughts. But it can’t go anywhere.

I.

Can’t.

Write.

This isn’t a first, and therefore I think it will pass, but meanwhile I am miserable. Writing is a tool for survival, and so when I can’t write I wonder if I will crumple.

My wise writing mates taught me that writing paralysis can be a sign of evasion. What am I evading? What am I trying not to write about? Do I know? Do I know that I know? How deep will this infested water be by the time I find that one twig to yank and bring down the dam?

My writing mates are, I think, pointing the way to that twig. Shirah, with her newly-finished and compelling word portrait, and Tamara, with this morning’s blog post about writing. Both speaking, as writers, to life, the alpha dam.

In the writing of these few words, I’ve had to get up and pace many times. Something in me is trying to stop this measly trickle.


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Change of life

paper petals
ochre dust
yesterday’s tokens
faded troth
but troth still:
change is not
promise broken

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stems crack
leaves crumble
into tingly wind —
Puritan greys
one Hester scarlet
swirled into whispered whistle
a sly din
restive air
crowded with dry voices

knavery!
softly pliant
summer bloom
into leaf crackle
twig snap
hollow wind moan

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERA

scuttling city
racing
mid-air
underfoot —
burrowed
denned
tree’d —
wait for me