The Writing Block

The Pen is mightier than the sword, for while the sword can make someone fall with a single swipe, a pen can touch someone with a single swipe

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  • The Early Bus
  • Half and One Half
  • Scavengers
  • My Dream
  • Running into Walls
  • Never a Bitter End
  • Short Epitaph
  • If Only
  • A Norse Tradition
  • Rainy Day
  • Doublespeak
  • Crunching Sounds
  • Talk About the Weather
  • Choppy Sailing
  • Shadowy Reflections
  • An Unbridled Untitled Minute
  • Midnight Vindication
  • Same Old Story
  • Sitting on Nothing
  • Note to Self
  • The Other Road Chosen
  • When in Doubt...
  • Let Me Help You Up

    The Early Bus

    11/29/99; 7:06 AM

    I sit on a bench at the bus stop
    Wondering when my ride will come
    Thereís five minutes left to spare
    That is, if the air will spare me that long
    My bones are already ten minutes chilled

    The man to my right is huddled on the end
    Feverishly puffing his cigarette
    He shakes with every cough
    While his eyes glow with delight
    But when his smoke stops spewing forth
    He runs to the gutter to renew his stock

    The man to my left, the opposite of the opposed
    Is truly different in every way
    While not exactly intelligent
    His glasses make him quite interlectual
    For how could a man reading before morning not be smart?

    He looks nervously to his right
    Seeing me staring at him
    But the intellect stares at the addict
    First with concern, then with dread
    But did the brute make him move down the bench?

    Ten minutes pass without much occourence
    Iím cold, heís scared,
    And the bumís consumed in his fumes
    But good things come to those who wait
    Even if they come too late

    Half and One Half

    11/29/99; 1:08 PM

    They were laying in the bed
    Lying to themselves
    Wondering how much they loved each other
    Compared to everyone else

    Sure, they say theyíre something more
    But that is merely love of words
    Which loves to muse the befuddled and muddled
    And words are confusing all the time
    When everyone confuses them in their mind

    They walk the town
    Looking as cute as can be
    And they hold hands
    As they skip down the street
    One is content
    The other wants more
    But neither knows what to ask for

    They never question each other
    But freely question themselves
    But only in front of everyone else
    They donít know what they want
    Nor what each other needs
    This is indeed not true love

    Tell them that and they will frown and turn away
    Cuddling and caressing each other
    In the most physical way


    12/2/99; 1:13 PM

    They marched slowly down the street
    With the bleak and unrelenting snow piling upon them
    Their story was long, harsh,
    And just as unforgiving

    It was also left unremembered
    No one cared to notice them
    They lacked the pretty boy that everybody wanted
    And now theyíre forgotten

    No mark in time
    No fancy special parade
    Unless you count the one they did back then
    They stalked their desire across the countryside
    But their only glory was when their mission was over

    They found the truth and they despised it
    They got what they wanted and didnít like it
    Never were they so disappointed
    And again they marched the field
    No so slow and ever faster
    They only wanted to get home

    They forgot the truth
    They lost their reason
    And ever since their desires left them
    Life had been that much darker

    My Dream

    12/2/99; 1:54 PM

    I weave a spell on the day of the dead
    To forgive all of us living for nothing
    My incantation is my proclamation
    That we have left all the dead laughing

    My abjuration will sweep us all off our feet
    And our routine will be nothing more
    Next time you know
    Weíll be laughing at the show thatís everyday
    Not pouting and doubting about our next raise

    Money gets no one ahead in the greed beyond
    For next payday we are dead by greedís knifeís gleam
    Money can just as easily be spent as seen
    And even if itís spent well
    The same only last for a while

    My conjuration will open eyes by closing others
    And keeping us from climbing up the social ladder
    Do we wish to fight our troubles out,
    Or set our troubles away for the while?
    Personally, Iíd rather have the latter

    My sorcery will be only illusion
    And my only hope is to awaken people from their jaded struggle
    I only desire to make people live for each other
    And not the paycheck from their lifeís horrible endeavors
    Can you believe they made witchcraft a crime?

    Running into Walls

    12/6/99; 10:25 AM

    They ran away and down the hills
    Through the boroughs to never be seen again
    Their squarish faces werenít there to please
    And that was something they most certainly werenít

    They were a disheartened bunch
    Quite a crazy crop of men
    But a very lazy group of men
    They didnít like what they had
    So they became blind window shoppers
    Running into walls

    A loud grunt later and theyíd try again
    If they could pull themselves off the ground
    But the walls stole their composure
    Staying as sturdy as could be
    Leaving the blundering men
    To lead their lives feeling empty

    They headed home, but got lost at the junction
    There were too many signs to read
    And these men, being as lazy as could be
    Settled on scattering down the streets
    And off to their respective boroughs

    They left home and never returned
    And they came away the typical holiday shopper
    Disgruntledly sifting and shoving through the crowds
    Forgetting the seasonal cheer they set after

    Never a Bitter End

    12/7/99; 4:00 PM

    They never wondered
    They never worried
    I was the only one who was caught looking
    It wasnít worth it
    I did it and I knew it
    But a bitter end is that much better

    Yet when I was caught I cried
    I was trapped in my own emotion
    And caught in the wiring that was the lining
    Of all of my hopes and desiring
    But it was withering with each second

    In the beginning we end
    And my end isnít near enough
    I am not tough
    I canít take the way I treat me
    But that is the only thing I know

    Itís not that I didnít want them to see me
    They knew that I slipped and I was falling
    They never cared when I was weeping
    But all I do now is count the days away

    My bitter end will never come by my hands
    Only by those who didnít catch me while I was falling
    But I was the one who tripped

    Short Epitaph

    12/7/99; 4:36 PM

    Damn me
    I cannot see them wishing they were me
    I refuse to see them wishing for my presence
    I am blindÖGod help me for I am blind!
    I am a heartless blind man
    Who has let his compassionís passion fall from his fingers

    Curse this wretched life
    Itís as I make it
    And as it is everything is falling
    All of the tasks look much more daunting
    And trust me, they will never be completed

    Only on this account and no other should I be entrusted
    My pain is encrusted on my familyís crest
    My pain is embedded in my sorrow-laden chest
    My curse is that I never will get up
    For I never had a chance

    But damn me still
    Just the same, Iím the wounded duck lying lame
    People wish for me
    Hope for me
    Even depend on me
    Even though God disdains it
    And I refrain to see that Iím important

    Maybe one day on my flower laden grave
    There shall be a message that only reads my name
    For Christopher Thomas Ward is my only true mark
    In my life marred wish demise
    And there will be at least one person who walks away
    With tear covered eyes
    The damned one

    If Only

    12/13/99; 11:03 AM

    I am my own best friend
    I am my own worst enemy
    I bite my own ankle
    I shoot myself in the feet
    And I cower in the corner
    As they walk by down the street

    I am my delight and demise
    For Iím the only one that recognizes their disguise
    And they see me much differently as well
    They donít fear me
    For they know less
    And Iím scared of them
    Theyíre the source of my distress
    That keeps me from another nightís rest

    Iíll lie in bed tumbling and turning
    Wishing I could away myself to somewhere else
    If only I could snatch up one of their disguises
    Then I could lead my life by my own devices
    But the price is too high
    And I dare not take the stakes

    And onward I blunder rolling out of my bed
    Wondering if life could ever be tranquil again
    And never again in this life would I dread
    If only my mind could be freed from my head

    A Norse Tradition

    12/13/99; 11:17 AM

    The Yule log burns on the open fire
    The Yuletide comes sweeping in
    The Norse man has the sleeping fever
    That has drowned drowsily in his head

    He sleeps, he wakes
    He nods on the bar and takes a drink
    Eggnog, more delight to thrill the man
    What a Norse man he is
    Heíll drink 7 or 10

    Just a few swift gulps later
    The Norse man is up with a roar
    The Yule log roast upon the open fire
    There are no chestnuts at home

    Eggnog delights and alcohol stained veins
    And all the man must do
    Is return to where he stayed
    But in the old tradition of Yule
    One must sing the Yuletide song
    Of bar frogs and bull crap
    To the barís favorite mule

    Norse man doesnít know woman from beast
    He serenades his wife
    And gets slapped across the cheek
    She storms from the bar
    He trips to the table
    Ordering 15 more eggnogs
    To make the Yule log more able

    Rainy Day

    12/15/99; 11:31 AM

    It was raining that day I remember so well
    Raining tears, reigning tyranny, raining regret
    Yes, it was raining everywhere
    And when it rains, it pours

    I walked home ever so slowly
    And the countryside looked ever so dreary
    The dirt road was muddy
    And I was weary
    The decadence of the deluge had deserted me
    For the dream of my walk home was fleeting

    The day was ever-impressionable
    The king was killed by a sheep flock herder
    Who had affairs with the queen
    But not everything was exactly how it seemed
    I had seen the shepherd before
    But the king wasnít there to listen to me

    There was no trial
    There was no conviction
    A poor manís crime wasnít in the courtís jurisdiction
    The queen was hanged
    After taking the hand
    Of a ravenous old dirty poor man

    She swayed to and fro
    The country fell to the pits below
    And I walk through the countryside
    Wondering what happened to times before
    When light rain was lovely
    And I enjoyed my walk home


    12/21/99; 7:54 PM

    I love the way they say everythingís gonna be okay
    That things are fine
    And theyíre turning out the way they should
    They say the world would love to hear from you
    But if you walked through their gathering
    Theyíd only love to see you go

    They run to you wishing for your good will
    Or at least to have their name in it
    So they can mooch off you when youíre gone
    Then theyíd love to see you go
    So they could call their lawyers
    And get on with the show

    Everything is cool they say in a calm collected manner
    As they shiver their body fat to the floor
    And in a world where everything is going from fast to faster
    Everyone forgets what ďitĒ is
    And runs off to the great pay-check giver

    What ďitĒ was was forgotten
    In the mad dash for the perfect gift
    Insanity ensued in the search for showing mass affection
    And friendly times were pummeled with mass aggression

    Maybe someday everything will be okay
    But for now anyhow, loveís taken a short vacation

    Crunching Sounds

    12/21/99; 8:10 PM

    Fresh leaves crumble under tiny feet
    And suddenly, fallís failure of living sets in
    It is a time where much of life wants to sleep
    But moaps around with its head swaying very low

    The tiny feet donít give up
    They thump, they thrash
    They tear the dying leaves apart
    The little boy laughs in glee
    As the crunching sounds make him dance faster

    Heíd dance all day if he had no bedtime
    And if he wasnít afraid of the dark
    But his deeds are stark and ghastly enough
    Itís better off that heís in bed by ten

    The boy notices the leaves are tearing
    Suddenly he sullenly crouches to see them
    For a moment, he is in awe of one of natures dying beauties
    That is the fallen leaf before him

    It sets in
    His romping and stomping decapitated many leaves
    And now they fly estrunley about
    One shard hits the boyís eye
    Its revenge had, the speck laughs loudly and dies

    They boy begins to tear, whine, and cry
    Seeing that nature had thwarted his good time
    But the burning in his eye brings out the beast in his heart
    And he performs the killing dance that much faster

    Talk About the Weather

    12/21/99; 8:20 PM

    The water gleams forever brightly
    And it cascades on the rolling rocks
    The birds sing their merry tunes
    And reply to the waterís quaint hello
    They both wish they couldíve talked longer
    But the water had to go

    The sun shined on the water below
    The water loved when it did that
    Helios is a fellow Poseidon rarely speaks to
    But when they do
    Their talks can last for hours

    This is another such instance
    As a cloud begins its ascension to the heavens
    Funny how a fog can look so ominous one morning
    And become so beautiful the day after

    The birds chat with the cloud on its voyage to the sun
    They discuss how things are going
    And what needs to be done
    But tea time never last forever

    Later that day they parted their ways
    For the cloud had finished its business with the sun
    And it returned to the river in gentle spring drizzle

    Choppy Sailing

    12/27/99; 11:27 PM

    They were lost at sea for three weeks
    No friends, no family, no home
    Only each other for them to hold
    And they refused to do so

    Working together is tough
    When one doesnít comply with the demands
    Of the situation at hand
    Go home or go west
    Itís times like these that could be the best
    New adventures at sea
    But running away leads to many roadblocks
    Many of which are rough

    Their strength was their weakness
    They were too proud of themselves to need each other
    And when ominous clouds come barreling towards them
    They had no thought to help each other

    They never thought about the tempest
    As wave after wave struck their ship
    And the sea swallowed all they owned
    For while separately acting on their pride
    Together, they let a storm destroy their way home

    Shadowy Reflections

    12/27/99; 11:55 PM

    The shadow stared at me coldly
    I was shivering, being exposed to the mirror
    My shadow was frail, old, toiled, and worn
    Could anything be so closer to collapsing?

    I raised my right hand
    It raised itís left
    And we toasted each other
    For meeting during times of such shit
    Was the shadow the other me?
    Had it seen what I so carefully chose to not decree?
    And then I stood exposed in the mirror
    As we drink our water
    And stand wondering what will become of us

    Oh, what a horrible taste
    But truth is usually that way
    No matter how surprising it may be
    For not all new things taste so sweet

    The shadow began to crumble
    Its painful goodbye was all I could stand
    It stepped back into the mirror
    And waves itís left hand again

    I swallowed the liquid and smirked
    As my shadow fades from the mirror
    The truth in tow, I turned to go
    With a shadowy future following me

    An Unbridled Untitled Minute

    12/31/99; 7:30 PM

    Father, why must these times go so fast?
    Why must you run around all day,
    And not let these times last?
    Is it your need for vengeance?
    Is it your need for speed?
    What need is there
    For you to need to leave me here

    Have fun and leave me all alone
    Things will be great while Iím the one left home
    These are the things we need
    These are the times that bind
    And we bide our time
    Saying goodbye

    A quick and faint wisp later
    Father is gone
    Again, off to some faraway land
    He will have fun
    Even if itís without his sons and daughters
    For we are the only ones who are graying

    I check my watch
    And think of father running away
    As heís coming to meet me
    Yet going further down the way

    Midnight Vindication

    12/31/99; 7:49 PM

    The sheets are getting warmer and warmer
    As my skin is crawling
    Getting colder and colder
    Than the fleas begin to advance
    Crawling hastily up my back
    And all I can do is swat them away

    I spin forever in a trance
    Standing there
    Watching the moments pass
    And many merry thoughts mingle in front of my face
    My dreams manifestation begins to make haste
    And I begin to make chase
    With my hands grasping cold winter air

    The sheets are hot as the tumble about
    Searing with a semi-greenish glow
    As my fingers begin to wonder where to go
    For the fanciful dreams have hastily run off

    I stiffen as the fleas crawl in my head
    A moment later my dreads are long gone
    But not gone for very long
    There will be a few others to see them

    I stare at the ceiling as the fleas crawl from my eyes
    And there I was looking ever so surprised
    For I met a yeomen who hasnít visited in the longest of times
    Then, I knew everything was all right

    Same Old Story

    1/1/00; 2:23 PM

    I had reached the top of the mountain
    And looked down upon the hills
    They were as small as they said they would be

    At last, my troubles were behind me
    At last, peace and quiet surrounded me
    The storm below looked so tranquil from above
    This mustíve been my new home

    A gentle spring rain cascaded the countryside
    As the flowers were invited to bloom
    And the winds began to dance to springís gentle boon

    The angry speeders appeared to be going so slow
    And my smile began to grow
    As I realized that the shouting and curing
    Of mid-morning driving
    Was that much further away

    I turned about and began to stare
    And saw only a few beams of the sun pelting the land
    Almost like the heavens were trying to grasp
    What once was and may still be rightfully theirs

    But why would the heavens want the festering problems below?
    Itís eternal bliss enough for an angel?
    Or do they need a dose of reality to keep them there,
    Up in heaven, where eternity is theirs

    Could heaven not be perfect after all?
    How could such a pretty place high in the sky
    Even be infringed upon
    By many and many a human lie?

    As I wondered why angels act so wickedly
    I heard a panting come up the mountain
    My peace, which was already quivering
    Was broken very quickly

    One who runs so hastily
    For the entirety of such a long and tumultuous journey
    With his voice shaking
    From such haste making
    He couldnít have come to tell of good fortune

    I had traveled all this way to escape my trouble
    But I guess Iíll never see the day when my troubles stay away
    I am beginning to see heavenís imperfection
    I guess itís the same old story after all
    I take one step forward and begin to fall

    Sitting on Nothing

    1/2/00; 9:51 PM

    There are people out there
    But I scream into the nothing anyway
    Wondering if anyone is there to listen
    To my multitude of pleas
    Of just to what I have to say

    I see the empty mist before me
    Nothing there
    Tells me of nothings done
    Because nothing was going on

    Is it all nothing?
    I donít mean nothing about anything
    Except for the something that I do
    But could all my efforts be wasted
    By the something that is the nothing that surrounds me?

    Is there really anybody out there
    That can understand my pain,
    Or see things from my eye level?
    Maybe even just looks me in the eye?

    Yes, there are many people out there
    But are they as alone as I am?
    Do they see me for who I am,
    Or for the nothing that surrounds me?

    Note to Self

    1/2/00; 9:59 PM

    If she could speak to me
    I would show her how much I cared
    Iíd be there for her
    And tell her just what I meant to say

    No, I had to keep my lips shut
    Purging my feelings
    Keeping them all in

    I wouldnít show the anger
    I wouldnít show the joy
    I would just tell of how I felt at the time

    I must be honest
    I lie to myself when I lie to someone else
    Oh, how Iíve committed that crime too many times

    Iím sorry if Iíve done anything wrong
    Hurt you in some horrid way
    Or had poor taste in writing this song
    But I am bleeding
    And my veins are the buckets of my blood
    That bleeds eternally on the inside

    They come for me now
    Theyíve come to summon me away
    Maybe things will be better on a new day
    But during the next times of dire trouble
    Iíll remember to show I care, okay?

    The Other Road Chosen

    1/2/00; 10:10 PM

    Let them rest in pieces now
    Let their ashes burn my chest
    I will breathe in their torched carcasses
    Their job may be done
    But mine has just begun

    Maybe Iíll just run away when Iím done
    Or follow my will when the want comes
    Iíll watch the scribblings on the wall
    Begin to take shape
    Then Iíd erase them all
    And begin to write again

    Oh, the drunken high of murder
    The scent of salty blood is sensational
    I love the taste
    I love the knifeís grace
    But my favorite part is the look on their face
    When your job is done

    Maybe the pain will all go away when itís over
    Then I can go home
    Kiss my wife and three kids
    And return to my job at the button factory
    Then my life will begin to take shape again

    But while my bloody hands show my guilt
    I feel as innocent as a lamb

    When in DoubtÖ

    1/2/00; 10:19 PM

    I wilted that day
    I saw my reflection and turned away
    And when the reporters asked if I had something to say
    There was nothing I could tell them

    I crashed and burned
    Is that all Iím good at?
    Two terms later and thatís that?!?

    I wouldnít stand up for it
    Not with my power taken away
    So I progressed in the lonely torture
    Strangled what I only had to grasp
    And began to stagger down the way

    I am caught in defeat
    And I need to eat
    What could I have for my final dinner?

    Could I be buried in a quiet place
    Away from all of these pad people
    But not near the empty space
    That seems to lay vacant in my heart?

    The final petal fell off the flower
    And it blew forever in the wind
    Until it glided gently to the floor
    And ever so slowly
    The pain set in

    Let Me Help You Up

    1/2/00; 10:28 PM

    I am the frenzy
    I am your bright shining light
    I may not be your last hope
    But Iím your only one for now

    Of course you may not like me
    But my name is not Pandora
    So you better not start labeling me as such
    I am not be the twelve evils
    Even though Iíve committed eight of the deadly sins

    But I am the light
    Even if it shines through a murky background
    I may not be perfect
    But I am your only one

    You wonít listen to me though
    To all of my questions your only response is no
    Where is the bathroom?, NO!
    Which way to the show?, NO!
    What happened to all of the love
    That someone said would be raining down today?

    I am the ultimate bastard
    For no one cares about what I do
    So I will have no one to return to

    I am in the frenzy
    And Iíll feed forever in the murk
    That is, until I can find something of worth

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    All writings are copyright of Chris Ward 1998-1999