it is not as the white silence of the first snow covering the wilted flowers, not the ambience of city streets of dawn before the mailman arrives. It’s not the infinite darkness in the void between stars.
this lack of words, these anemic syllables who cannot bleed, cannot breathe is hearing without listening, seeing without watching, talking without speaking;
in its drabness I am crushed beneath an unbearable lack of luminosity;
still I have to carry this; my burden of a writer’s block.

yet the maple leaves blushes like a teenage girl when kissed by the night

Today Frank wants us to write a haibun about writer’s block at dVerse. Sometimes it’s hard to start to write but once you start, usually words start flowing.

September, 27

27 responses to “Anemia

  1. ‘hearing without listening, seeing without watching, talking without speaking’

    – I think that’s possibly it, in essence, in our busy lives, we fail to notice the inspiration which is all around!

  2. A heroic tribute to writer’s block; double edged, for the words themselves rise up like flushed skylarks, racing across the page; as noted, terrific word-smithing creating muscular prose.

  3. “Unbearable lack of luminosity” brings out how words actually shed light on our burdensome thought, making writer’s block all the more oppressive.

  4. Love your descriptions in this – ‘the anemic syllables’, ‘the lack of luminosity’ – fabulous write.

  5. Real or imagined, this writers block you speak of — these words are lovely.
    There, you’re officially cured now.
    Thanks for letting me into this world. Lovely. Keep going. 👏

  6. You dragged us down into despair wonderfully — I see the haiku in American sentence style, which you always got right…v good read

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