Clouds in my coffee

Swirling round and round...scatterbrained threads of ideas, whirling at the tiniest motion of my stirring spoon--so easily within reach yet determinedly unattainable.  I watch as each idea filters through my fingers like fog, sliding down into the cup of chaos--efficiently evading my attempts to capture it with ink upon paper.  The pen is listless in my hand...words refusing to pour from its tip.  
And I watch, as yet another whimsical notion escapes my grasp and sinks into the bowl full of brilliant but unwritten masses of my inklings that a publisher has yet to discover. 

Tangles of mindless thoughts eddy around: clouds in my coffee...


  1. This should be a free verse poem. You used such pretty words!

    1. Awwww, thanks, Shorty! I didn't mean to attempt free verse :) I was just writing about what writer's block feels like--how you want to write SO badly, and you have everything eddying around in your head, but it just doesn't come out. :) You're comment made my day!

  2. If I were rich and famous, everybody would be experiencing the joy of your writing because I'd have references to it plastered everywhere. Unfortunately for the rest of the world, I'm not, so they'll have to wait in the dark until you become rich and famous on your own :)