A couple of more months whizz by .. In limbo, in movement , in inaction , in action , in work , in un-work. And not a single word has poured out of me. And suddenly this urgent need to write something , to type some bad poetry , to drop by the old faithful blog ..
The ink bleeds and spurts from pen,
in a fit of coughs and clotted blue-ness,
Rorschach pattern it creates,
Crying a vibrant indigo of the rainbow.
The nib strains and scratches,
Threatening to tear the paper into rags,
The indigo , translucent and dark at the same time,
a black-hole, a reminder of the recent struggles of the pen and the paper.
But the show must go on..
The pen has to move, the ink has to pour forth, while the paper sits tight,
In anticipation of ideas, tears , happiness, sadness , anger..
Anything but laziness and inaction.
Ah, the priceless C&H to the rescue again :)