The Writer's Block

[Ctrl Alt Elite]

>> http://wonderingminstrels.blogspot.c...-chidiock.html <<

The Writer's Block

Damp clings to the dungeon walls.
A constant drip pats
against the stone floor
and the scurrying scratch of rats
incessantly moves
from left ear to right
and back again.

Tomorrow looms,
and the writer reflects
On what has been,
and what is to come.

He writes his final reflections
with a tattered feather
on torn paper.
Yet it is a masterpiece
born of the most unusual circumstance.

Tomorrow arrives,
and the writer walks
to the writers block.

Damp clings to the wooden block
Dried drips of blood
litter the stone ground
And the screams of joy from the crowd
fill the writer's ears
left and right.

The axe falls,
and the writer's block
creates eternal silence.
Leaving only a name

And a poem.

[trajik]

man this was a nice read. this imagery was exceptional, vividly i was picturing a scene of a man locked in the dungeon of his own mind. it's barren, dark and dreary just like the writer's thoughts, devoid of coherent ideas. the idea of writer's block being embodied by the physical chopping block creating the looming terror in a mind dearth of optimism. because when you identify yourself as a writer, and you have writer's block you can feel worthless, helpless, imprisoned within your mind. whoa, mind blown, this also reads like a suicide note written by someone crippled by writer's block just looking for anyway to escape the void that suffocated the ideas in the first place.

very enjoyable read.

[Emily]

Wow, what an interesting character Chidiock Tichborne was. And the history in the link you posted was spectacularly brutal,
and yet the poetry within his soul, remained angelic.

Knowing the history behind this piece, really does send shivers up my spine.
And the irony of the style of this being somewhat similar in feel,
to Tichbornes' is a stunning reincarnation of the last day of his life.
The remarkable fear he was able to restrain, all while keeping elegance
about him, and reflecting that in last poem.
I look at this as clear channelling from the heart, and him being an instrument of iconic stature.
I look at this piece in the same light. Influenced by the original story, the air he held, displayed
here in your written work also. The writer's 'block' and the axe, worked in so many ways.
I won't go and quote any part of this. Reason being, I feel the whole lot is quotable.
This is up there for me, as one of my favourite pieces I've read, not only this month, but while I've been here on RB.

Simply beautiful Ctrl Alt Elite.

You've done it again, but this time, with more shine, more polish, more heart, more reason, more light.
More of everything I adore.


Well done.

Great Read.


Thank you.