I can’t seem to get to that pen,
I am stuck somewhere between wanting to and
not even being able to think about it.
Where have my words gone?
Poems sometimes spin forth and at other
times I can even find my pen and paper.

Inspiration is a funny thing that is nurtured
day in and day out when we just write.
Even when no inspiring thoughts come.
we must work to build up those writing muscles,
we must put in the hard work, must spend the time
in order to reap the harvest.
No pain, no gain.
Just must write, even when it is junk
because within the junkyard some hidden buried treasure
will rise to the top of the heap.

Can’t stop, must keep writing.
Can’t quit, must keep pressing on.
Nothing slows down, time is unforgiving.
It will roll right over you if you let it.
So don’t let it, but roll with the punches,
and write out your secret, hidden hunches.
Keep getting up when life’s blows knock you down.
When the winds of weariness blows holes in your sails
get out the duct tape and patch the holes.
Pick up your broken pencils and crumpled papers
and. . . . . keep writing.

December 8, 2003

Great message James, thanks....Very enlightening.....:)

Thanks Joan.
I have not written as much as I would like to lately and it has been bothering me.

Sorry to hear that your furniture STILL has not arrived :(