Thursday, December 29, 2011

My Tiny Terror

By Joseph Hesch

The skittering chill up my spine
doesn’t come from hoodoos, bogeymen,
bugbears or the night bumpers anymore.
I enjoy the company of darkness
in my bed at night,
and I walk these cracked sidewalks,
head held high, as I pass by 
their cracked denizens daily.
Expressing myself to others,
tens or thousands, no longer shakes me.
I’ve stared down disease, criminal intent,
the uncertainty of parenthood
and the whoosh-by of swift death.
But not much scares me so these days
as sitting with a frozen mind
in front of a snowy-white page.

7 comments:

  1. No kidding. Spill some coffee on the white page, make it less perfect unless the white page is your computer, then um... don't spill coffee on it. A less than perfect computer is expensive. *hug*

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  2. ack....yes....i dont believe in writers block any more than i do the boogey man though...smiles...

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  3. I think that terror hits all of us poets & writers from time to time...although the 'whoosh-by of swift death' might do it for me, too.. *wry smile* ..there doesn't seem much wrong with your muse these days, Joe *hugs* :)

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  4. I can relate to that fear....thankfully I don't have it yet...

    Wishing you Happy New Year ~

    Cheers ~

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  5. Well expressed, Joe! You don't seem blank at all : )

    For a while now, I have been quite frozen; and with accompaning anxiety (that part is new...lol)...the other day, I just started writing things on a grocery list, which helped!

    Wishing you a never-ending flow of words for 2012. Thank you for all your support and work with dVerse!
    -Eva

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  6. Every writer's not to 'tiny' terror is to feel a blockade to the usual free flowing thinking and subsequent creation of worded pictures. You expressed the emotion very well. I loved this poem. :)

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