Like Great Depression
The drought of expression
Without warning invades.

Inflated silence and scarcity
Make surrender taste sourer
To the bold buds of serenity

Fear becomes a new dwelling
Its main formal feature
Is frustrated facial phrases

Like this!

K.Q.

Khalida,

It seems we are on the same page this morning. I, too, am having trouble writing. I have found myself dissatisfied with almost everything I have written in the last six months. Piece after piece seems disconnected to me, as if I can't find the thread in the poem to lead the reader to even the most basisc understanding of what I am saying, presuming I am saying anything at all. I understand completely when readers say my poems are enigmatic or cryptic, but I can't seem to resolve the pieces into anything straightforward...poetic frustration.

I feel I just have to keep at it, keep pushing the poetry to wherever it does go, let it have its own head, so to speak, because that is how I write, allowing the language to speak, with me as its guardian from time to time.

Its main formal feature
Is frustrated facial phrases

as you say so well.

amo,


Peter

ps

I like the title, since as I peel off layer after layer of misdirections in my own writing, I get the gnarling feeling there may not be anything at the center if I peel off too many layers. scary.

pax.

Khalida:

Great idea, writing about the frustration of not being able to write. Our muse is a fickle young lady, coming and going as she pleases without regard for our fragile psyches. I think your approach here bodes well; this poem signals a return of inspiration for you. Write on!

Joe

Peter:

I wish I had your forbearance. When inspiration abandons me, I am more more inclined to say, "screw it" for the time being rather than pressing on as you do.

Inflated silence and scarcity
Make surrender taste sourer
To the bold buds of serenity


I think of a stalemate when reading this... no more moves in a game of chess.

Mary

Peter and Joe,
Thanks for the kind, encourang words that really do make me feel better. I hope to be able to "Write on" Joe.
As for the title, Peter, I have to tell you my thoughts on how it came up. I was quite dissatisfied with this little piece but decided to post it anyway. There is a saying in Arabic about doing something petty after a long period of doing something of worth that goes to the effect: s/he fasted for so long then had an onion upon beaking fast. That is the title's reason.

I cannot but thank you again for being such good poetic friends!

Thanks for reading and commenting MAry. To add to your imagination, picture a person playing against him/herself, no more moves left cause either way it is self defeat! I didn't reach that point yet, though!