The Enemy

The nugget of something
Is there
But in the act of putting it on the page
It disappears

No flare of wit or will
Nothing to separate
Me
From all the other people struggling to take bits of language and string them together in a way that is meaningful

Wavering in the face of the need to be
Decisive
Shadowed by all those
Names and Ideas and Prose that people
Praise

Writer’s block
Is simply the scorn of myself
Nothing that can’t be seen
In a mirror

The wall that rises up
Is my own self-doubt
Laughing at the preposterous notion
That I could ever be a writer

This is truly the enemy to my writing this week! Whatever you do, don’t let your own self-doubt or lack of belief hold you back. We all start somewhere.

Poem – No Ending

Wrote this a few weeks ago – think it nicely covers what’s been wearing me down so much! I think other teachers might understand this during the build up to exam season.

 

No Ending

Exhaustion sucks you dry.

Caffeine perks and jitters,
Drugs race through the nervous
system.

Pink eyes gape,
Masks of parched-mouthed smiles.
Limbs erratic.

Inevitably slumber
Creeps up
Dragging you into
Fitful
Guilty

Rest.

Running

I’ve been running for many years now, and have completed an array of distances in events, including a marathon in Dublin. Nothing takes me away from myself quite like it. Here’s a poem I wrote to try to capture that feeling:

Ephemeral

Gallant swathes of sky,
Searing,
Lending majesty to the mundane.

Breathless, glowing ache,
Glistening of sweat on skin,
Delirious, heady,
Steady, thumping.

Union of body and sky,
Lifting above the worldly,
Euphoric,
Fleeting,
Rooted in the earth,
Bodily.