Writers Block.

©Mwangi Njoroge

I have a lot to write,
stories to tell
white lies to sell.
my heart has the
words,
my mind, runs ablaze with images.
Images that can't wait to occupy my notebook

but it’s a conspiracy!
my fingers refuse to write ,

they refuse to relay the message,
I feel them go numb,
feel them go frost bite cold, 

they have put down the pen,
misplaced the writing pad.
Its disorganized labor in my house,
I need to write! 

To just write, on sidewalks and estate gates.
I want the last graphite to tell my story,
to hold the secrets behind my eyes,
to let free the stream of thoughts,
to let free of the saint and imp making love in my soul.

I need to write!
about classical literature and galaxies,

 human folly and fallacies
Unrequited love and secret gardens
writing is my burden

My good friend.

Let’s have a cup of tea,

and welter in these verses,

fall into a trans of words

and keep at bay

our  friend procrastination;

before he  binds forever our imagination.