new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
Don't the words on the page absorb some of the bitterness or do they only add to it? A good question.
Writer's Confessional"Father, I am not at peace, my soul is endlessly driven..."From the invisible flies, high in the darkened rafters, over the vaulted arch of the proscenium, these words, relayed then behind his hand (the one not holding the whip) to the audience by the smiling sergeant-at-arms of the Diabolus, having consulted his Master:"Drive, he said".
E,A bit of both I would say! Tom,That's exactly what I did!