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Poetry

Stuck

9/2/2020

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I’m stuck
Not because I don’t have anything to think about
But because my head is full
And I don’t know which idea to choose
To focus on. To tease out. Make bigger
Into what, I haven’t yet figured out
Tired. And stuck
Thoughts about ghosts both past and present
Thoughts about the planet and how much I want to see a future
Thoughts about my family and how much I miss them and can’t wait to see them
Sad. And stuck
There it is again. That word.
Some days are blue sky days where ideas and feelings soar and my hands fly across the keyboard
Some days are black cloud days where my ideas and feelings lay in a dark sticky tar
My hands hover for hours waiting to pluck the ideas from the mire
I know I have to experience both to realise what the other is
But on black cloud days it’s hard to create honey from tar
I look out of the window in my apartment on a world that seems so busy and noisy
As I observe that world my mind starts to quiet
Thoughts slowly begin to unravel
Jumbled scenes become a recognizable thread
Tar is not honey. Not yet.
But there is something. A beginning.
Not so stuck anymore. 

Stuck.© Kerry Gittins 2020. All Rights Reserved.

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