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BLOCK AND TACKLE
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And though the world is coming round,
This old heart says I’ve sinned…Sit here breaking no new ground,I’m only breaking wind,But, in the grand tradition,I burn the midnight lamp,And sit here, poised with pen in hand:An imperious knight,With a serious Writer’s Cramp… With miles to go before I reachThe city of my dreams,Where poets walk the streets and eachWrites poetry by the reams;Yet, in the corner where I standThe ticking of the clockReminds me, poised, with pen in hand,Of a serious, mysterious Writer’s Block… Words that do not flow, but mockAnd add to all my fears…How then shall I tame this blockAnd tackle all this passing of the years?Forsaken by the living andMistaken for a rock,I sit here, poised with pen in hand,And a serious, mysterious Writer’s Block…
(This was originally written as the lyric for a song. You can hear the sung version at http://soundclick.com/share?songid=6491198 )