FINDING A WAY IN...

I'm struggling with a poem. It's a full on wrestling match. I flip the poem, the poem does a somersault and I end up in a full nelson...and just when I think I have it cowering in a corner, after some amazing moves including a one-two piledriver -jawbreaker combination - it flips me and I'm the one on the floor not understanding how I got there.

I know what I want to say, the emotion I want to convey. I just can't find a way in.

Every story/poem/novel needs a way in. A doorway we want to go through.


Some opening that offers the writer (and reader) a chance to slip through. And at the moment I can't find it. Words are swirling like falling autumn leaves, images are dancing in hobnail boots, and phrases are clogging my throat.

I've attempted putting down a few words.

A few images.

But they are isolated dots on the page and no joining them together will make the image become clear.

I've tried to leave the poem alone. Concentrated on work, on family. Thought the poem would become annoyed at this neglect and begin to make loud whinging 'look at me' noises.

Nothing.



I'm not giving up. I'm merely allowing other thoughts to take over. I'll rework the poem about my nephew, edit the short story I wrote last week, put down some more words on my YA novel...and hopefully while I'm thinking of something else the poem will appear.

Or perhaps while I'm staring through the opening I will see something else. A glimpse of a shape, glimmer of colour, some movement that will capture me.

That's the interesting thing about doorways - you can never tell what will come through.

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