11/23/2011 § Leave a comment
I am blank, simply blank. I have myself to Thank, for this miserable blank. An empty tank my mind, damn this blank! Not a thought rolls in or out, lean this mind, which is usually stout. I have no doubt if I had a thought, I would let it out.
All the same, I am blank. I sat to ponder, and then my heart sank, for my mind is a blank.
Damn you blank!
Empty, as a summer creek blocked by a dam. Empty, as a threat from a cowardly man. Empty, as the stomach of a newborn lamb.
Yes I am blank.
No tales with abnormal plots. No pictures with bright green blots. No clay twitted into lopsided pots.
I have nothing to share. My mind does not care. It is all I can bear.
I am blank.
It may be that I’m okay. It may be that I have nothing to say. It may be that I’m pleased. That I could create with easy, but I find not need.
I might be angry. On the other hand, I could be sad. I might be content. What ever it is, it is not evident.
Damnit, I’m blank! I want to pen a poem of the wind, or drop a rhyme of where I have been. I want to paint the sky, or sketch flowers that are about to die. I would like to write a play, or convey my thought of the day.
I could have forgotten everything I have learned. Would that not be ironic if this is where my mind has turned? When to learn is all I yearn.
Still, I am Blank…