Writers Block!

You know what my real problem is latey? Writers Block!

That’s why I’ve been wandering aimlessly around this blog the last couple days like I’ve been… I’ve got Writers Block again! I sit here and stare at a page and the words just don’t flow… In fact they hardly come at all. I’ve always had an issue with Writers Block. I go through phases where writing is the easiest thing in the world, and then suddenly my imagination and vocabulary just dry up like a shallow river in a hot August drought.

They say that authors and other creative types have what’s called a Muse. A Muse is a spirit, usually female, who gives a writer his or her inspiration. Apparently, I’ve done something to piss mine off, cause she’s just not coming around to see me lately.

So what could I have done to piss off my Muse? Did I miss her birthday? Do Muses have birthdays? Happy Birthday! my mystical, magical and ever so lovely Muse! I’m so sorry if I missed your special day! Please forgive me! Here’s a dozen roses and a card for you!

There, maybe that will help… But I think that I should think carefully about what else I could have done to offend my Muse… I don’t think I’ve been flirting with other Muses, and I certainly haven’t been fooling around with any. I’m not even sure how you “make it” with a Muse…

Uh Ohh… Maybe that’s the real problem here! Did you hear what I just said? Ohh Boy!!! If that’s the problem, no wonder my Muse is unhappy with me! If I haven’t been giving her the kind of attention she needs to fulfill her passionate desires, and her deepest, most urgent needs, well no wonder she’s giving me the cold shoulder!

How about a Poem of Love… devoted to you, my incomparable Goddess Muse…

I will love you for a thousand summer moons
and for eternity
You are a delirious dream vision of beauty
Your enchantress eyes knowingly glow
with a luminescent light of fantasy made real
I must feel your luscious womanly symphony
of windy hair, warm velvet skin
and sweet peach breasts
centered with pink rose petals
Your smooth long languid legs
leading up to hot misty fluff
and down to bare feet I worship
with soft kisses
Like a warm gentle summer rain
I will love you for a thousand summer moons
and for eternity

Gee, I sure hope she likes it! Maybe I’d better add just one more thing to go with it…

I offer you, my only Muse… this candle that burns brightly into a rainbow… a symbol of my deepest longing for the sweet scented balm of your forgiveness, which is the only cure for the hollow emptiness of my soul.

If I’ve been insensitive, please forgive me, my most precious Muse! And then we’ll meet tonight in the Land of Dreams… where I will offer you all I have and all I am, just to know the ultimate intimate pleasure of your presence.


So how’d I do? Think she’ll go for it??? I sure hope so! This Writers Block is killing me!

About Chris Sheridan

I’m a 56 year old guy who is young (and immature) at heart, and I love humor and laughter. Married for 22 years, but still enjoy all the glories of womanhood everywhere, even while dedicated to one woman only - and I hope my wife never finds out about her!
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19 Responses to Writers Block!

  1. Sheena says:

    Perhaps you should do your Muse’s dishes, nothing says “I care” like housework.

    • Now that’s an excellent idea! Should I dress up in a little outfit for her too? Lol – A while back somebody at work gave me a glitter and rind stone jock strap as a joke gift… Maybe I should actually try wearing it while doing housework for my Muse. Or maybe if I do that, you’ll never hear from me again – because my Muse left me forever! Lol

  2. She is not a-mused huh… ;)

  3. How do you have writer’s block? You just wrote a 200 word comment on my blog!

  4. Aww, I am glad I make you smile :)

    Hey wait, another man who cracks up laughing whenever he sees me!??!
    A gal could get a complex here!!!

  5. David Eric Cummins says:

    Your post reminded me of a poem I wrote several years ago. It’s a bit long, but I hope you won’t mind.

    Muse 7/28/2006

    Where are the words?
    They’re lost
    They’ve jumped like lemmings from my mind
    Into a chasm of loss

    Once upon a time they would come
    I didn’t have to think
    They came
    Leaping from my pen
    Ink jewels
    In blue and black
    As if they weren’t mine
    But channeled
    From some eloquent spirit
    Longing to be heard

    Where are you now spirit?
    Whatever name best fits you
    You fed me words once
    Now I’m starving
    Craving the language that once nourished me

    Were you pushed away?
    Revolted by my filthy cynicism
    My reality
    My day by day drudgery
    Thoughtless of any future
    Any possibility
    “There is a rot on us all”
    I let the rot grow over me
    And my muse withered with it

    Can I resurrect you?
    Practice makes perfect
    If I raise my pen once more
    Will you return,
    Like a soldier fresh from the front,
    With countless new tales to tell?

  6. Pingback: VERSATILE BLOGGER AWARDS « flashingformoney

  7. I have nominated you for a versatile blogger award. Check it out and join in—> http://flashingformoney.wordpress.com/2012/01/06/versatile-blogger-awards/

    Loved this post! I can definitely relate!

  8. Lav Chintapalli says:

    I’m sure your muse fell hook, line and sinker! :)

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