Frustrated. Please Help

V

vampiredust

Guest
My writing is going nowhere at the moment. Everytime I try and start a poem, the whole thing just crashes into an awful mess and I end up getting frustrated and delete the whole thing.

Need help before I end up like Brad Pitt's character from Twelve Monkeys
 
vampiredust said:
My writing is going nowhere at the moment. Everytime I try and start a poem, the whole thing just crashes into an awful mess and I end up getting frustrated and delete the whole thing.

Need help before I end up like Brad Pitt's character from Twelve Monkeys


take a walk, and find some children.

sit, and watch them -- don't say a word . . . just watch. :rose:
 
Last edited:
hmm, I think that if not writing well would turn you into anything Brad Pitt, you might re-consider trying to fix it... I know I am shallow, but even psycho Brad makes me mmmmmm....

seriously though, I did not notice this turn that has frustrated you, you have been churning out some great passion pieces....sometimes it is just a matter of perception. Either way, I would suggest trying something else creative, photography, gardening, fingerpaint....things may be stuck in another part of your brain.

If all else fails, go back and edit some work from a year ago.... now that you are one spring older, maybe you will see it in a new light and turn out something even more wonderful and wise :)

Good luck and do not feel alone, we all spend time in the poetic doghouse.

woof
 
sometimes

I find if we stay on the same topic of flavor..we become unbalanced in the flow...try writing something other than your usual subject..but, opposite...works for me...I like writing more of the darker work..but it dries up easy...hope this helps... :)
 
I agree with the aformentioned suggestions, and dont be too hard on yourself. After all, to write Poetry is an excersize in self immolation, as it were. Take a breather, perhaps take Rain Man's advice and go listen to and watch children. Sometimes we must unlearn, cast aside all prediliction and slide down the slide, play dodgeball or marvel at the birds.

;) :rose:
 
Have a Rest

Sometimes you can try to hard and want to write poetry non-stop. I felt I was coming on here far two much and decided to have a few weeks rest. Also went away for a few days over Easter. I felt I was getting stale and frustrated. But now I have returned and have two poems pending.The new Adele Howells has returned and refreshed. Its only a suggestion but has worked for me. Good luck
SISSY ADELE
 
There's nothing wrong with taking a break from writing. Sometimes we just get overloaded and need to be still and take time to recharge.

Read. Find new poets to love or delve more into work by poets you already love. As you read, think about why you like these writers, what qualities in their poems grab you. Just give yourself time to think and internalize what matters to you in the poetry you read: what kinds of images and constructions appeal. For example, do you like more abstract or concrete writing and so on.

If you absolutely have to tinker with writing, I agree with Anna that editing poems you've written previously is a good idea. That can be fulfilling because you'll likely be able to improve them and discover, in that process, how you've grown as a writer.

But mainly give yourself a rest from the "I have to produce" pressure. Nobody (but you) is testing you to see how many "great poems" you can produce.

I've gone through what you describe and have found it usually precedes my writing taking a new direction. That's growth. It's a good thing. :)

:rose:
 
Keep writing if only to jot down ideas. Suddenly the pieces fall into place and you'll be off again. Reading a lot helps me too, not necessarily poetry - anything.
 
Tristesse said:
Keep writing if only to jot down ideas. Suddenly the pieces fall into place and you'll be off again. Reading a lot helps me too, not necessarily poetry - anything.


What she said!!! I have a horrid newspaper habit, need rehab er something to kick the jones.
 
vampiredust said:
My writing is going nowhere at the moment. Everytime I try and start a poem, the whole thing just crashes into an awful mess and I end up getting frustrated and delete the whole thing.

Need help before I end up like Brad Pitt's character from Twelve Monkeys
Poetry is a cruel bitch of a mistress, isn't she?

She knows you can't get enough of her. She knows you can't turn away. She knows you're losing sleep and friends because of her. But she doesn't care. She just takes and takes and takes.

She humilates you when your weaknesses show, but demands that you reveal them. She wants you to be romantic yet unsentimental, tender yet tough, clever yet simple, assertive yet humble, profound yet unpretentious, and wants you to take her breath away every single time!

Like all of us, you've probably wondered what you get from this relationship, and whether the heartache is worth it. You've probably packed your bags and your pen and prepared to walk away. But when you scribble your goodbye note the words just fall into place and suddenly she's right there for you, and she makes you feel so good that you're right back in her palm.

I wish you well, vd.
 
One thing that helps me is to write something other than poetry. Write a Lit Blog entry, for example, or a mini-story for the 100 Words thread. Or just write some journal entries—walk to a park and sit and write about what you see.

Reading is good also—as Ange said, looking at why a particular poem works.

Or just go to the movies or play tennis or something. Take a nap. I get a surprising number of starts to poems in dreams.
 
Tzara said:
One thing that helps me is to write something other than poetry. Write a Lit Blog entry, for example, or a mini-story for the 100 Words thread. Or just write some journal entries—walk to a park and sit and write about what you see.

Reading is good also—as Ange said, looking at why a particular poem works.

Or just go to the movies or play tennis or something. Take a nap. I get a surprising number of starts to poems in dreams.
Yes, sometimes she does that to me, too. So I keep a hand towel nearby.
 
flyguy69 said:
Yes, sometimes she does that to me, too. So I keep a hand towel nearby.
You're supposed to write it down before you finish, Fly. :rolleyes:
 
vampiredust said:
My writing is going nowhere at the moment. Everytime I try and start a poem, the whole thing just crashes into an awful mess and I end up getting frustrated and delete the whole thing.

Need help before I end up like Brad Pitt's character from Twelve Monkeys

Sounds like you might be starving for renewal. Not saying your burnt out, but every flame needs to be nourished and fed. Every field needs a fallow period for the soil to rejuvinate, and all that jazz.

Do something that your body likes to do, something that gives you pleasure, for at least three days and/or nights in a row before you go back to writing.

Hope you can find something that works for you in all of the sage advice people are offering in this thread.

Also, this, too, shall pass.

S&D
 
My sure fire never fails always guaranteed method for fighting writer's block

1) strip completely naked

2) pour yourself the beverage of choice

3) drink it all

4) repeat steps 2 & 3

5) Take your five favorite earlier pieces and read them aloud

6) repeat steps 2 & 3

7) Find five other pieces you love from other authors and read them aloud

8) repeat steps 2 & 3

9) think of 3 forms, themes or ideas you haven't written with before

10) Make a box or notebook or folder of story and poem prompts

11) repeat steps 2 through 9

12) write like crazy

See 12 step program and if for some reason it doesn't work, you can put your clothes back on.
 
vampiredust said:
My writing is going nowhere at the moment. Everytime I try and start a poem, the whole thing just crashes into an awful mess and I end up getting frustrated and delete the whole thing.

Need help before I end up like Brad Pitt's character from Twelve Monkeys

take a break for a few days. :) refill your senses with Life. you'll be okay.

:rose:
 
flyguy69 said:
Poetry is a cruel bitch of a mistress, isn't she?

She knows you can't get enough of her. She knows you can't turn away. She knows you're losing sleep and friends because of her. But she doesn't care. She just takes and takes and takes.

She humilates you when your weaknesses show, but demands that you reveal them. She wants you to be romantic yet unsentimental, tender yet tough, clever yet simple, assertive yet humble, profound yet unpretentious, and wants you to take her breath away every single time!

Like all of us, you've probably wondered what you get from this relationship, and whether the heartache is worth it. You've probably packed your bags and your pen and prepared to walk away. But when you scribble your goodbye note the words just fall into place and suddenly she's right there for you, and she makes you feel so good that you're right back in her palm.

I wish you well, vd.
Why isn't this a poem?

Sincerely,
Mistress Carrie
Cruel Bitch-Muse
 
champagne1982 said:
Why isn't this a poem?

Sincerely,
Mistress Carrie
Cruel Bitch-Muse
Oh, take me! what virgin cries
at an Aztec table of stone, the granite jaws
of priests already intoning prayer?
As if another reason was needed
for giving up her cherry at first chance.
To give it all up: the dreams
of picket fences and children,
the weekend spa, the mid-life crisis
and chance to see Paris. No one
I know. But when the goddess reveals herself
in Eliot and Addonizio, in Thomas and Hirschfield,
when her prayer is exactly
the best words in best order, why
do so many bare their breasts
in offering? Why do we recline
in the gore of her sacrifice, why do I join
the mad chorus crying Oh, take me!
 
eagleyez said:
I agree with the aformentioned suggestions, and dont be too hard on yourself. After all, to write Poetry is an excersize in self immolation, as it were. Take a breather, perhaps take Rain Man's advice and go listen to and watch children. Sometimes we must unlearn, cast aside all prediliction and slide down the slide, play dodgeball or marvel at the birds.

;) :rose:


I have two any of y'all can watch.

Anytime.

That way I might get to write some poetry.
Trust me, children are not always inspiring. Sometimes they are just whining, snotty pains in the asses.

hehe

oh I know mine is just stubborn like his dear old mom and nature or nurture, I am just gettin' my own.... :heart:
 
Salvor-Hardon said:
My sure fire never fails always guaranteed method for fighting writer's block

1) strip completely naked

2) pour yourself the beverage of choice

3) drink it all

4) repeat steps 2 & 3

5) Take your five favorite earlier pieces and read them aloud

6) repeat steps 2 & 3

7) Find five other pieces you love from other authors and read them aloud

8) repeat steps 2 & 3

9) think of 3 forms, themes or ideas you haven't written with before

10) Make a box or notebook or folder of story and poem prompts

11) repeat steps 2 through 9

12) write like crazy

See 12 step program and if for some reason it doesn't work, you can put your clothes back on.


Note: Make sure you videotape the whole thing as incentive to never do it again.
 
damn you are brilliant

flyguy69 said:
Poetry is a cruel bitch of a mistress, isn't she?

She knows you can't get enough of her. She knows you can't turn away. She knows you're losing sleep and friends because of her. But she doesn't care. She just takes and takes and takes.

She humilates you when your weaknesses show, but demands that you reveal them. She wants you to be romantic yet unsentimental, tender yet tough, clever yet simple, assertive yet humble, profound yet unpretentious, and wants you to take her breath away every single time!

Like all of us, you've probably wondered what you get from this relationship, and whether the heartache is worth it. You've probably packed your bags and your pen and prepared to walk away. But when you scribble your goodbye note the words just fall into place and suddenly she's right there for you, and she makes you feel so good that you're right back in her palm.

I wish you well, vd.
 
Don't try

The fact of the matter is, that once I saw what one famous song-writer had written on a flight over Denver, I saw something I would never have understood no matter how many people thought to tell that what I'm doing is wrong! (Yes, it is extended.) But I don't write poetry, I can't write poetry. It writes me. It sounds corny and stupid as all hell! But I didn't ask to find the words anymore. I let them bubble up from the most mysterious depths of my soul. I can't write the words, I can only feel them walk with me. And then, sorch that vibration on to some fragile paper.
 
Back
Top