Often times, when you first start writing, you are like a ball of fire that spews out flaming words of poetic rapture. The verses never seem to stop flowing forth. It's a marvelous feeling, especially considering how much is accomplished and the personal satisfaction of it all. But we all, as writers and poets, may reach a point where the well of thoughts just dries up. What is this? A writer's block? Or is it just not your time to write?

This can be frustrating, so what could one do? Fot the most part the best advice one gets is to stay away from writing when nothing comes to mind. Keeping your mind on different things gives your mind time to sort things out and absorb some of the energy that you had been releasing in your writings. Eventually ideas and thoughts will come to you.

But now what if it's not that you are shot for ideas. What if you are just not comfortable with the way in which you are expressing yourself? Perhaps you do not like the style you use, you have grown out of it? In cases such as this a few more things would have to change. Like, for instance, the subject matter of which you write about. Since different types of ideas influence different styles of writing, why not try writing about something other than what normally come to mind?

The most important thing to note is that you do not always have to write the way that you are accustomed to. Doing something different every now and then strengthens your style and builds your integrity as a poet, author, and writer.

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The Battle of Mind and Soul
by Amanda Tankersley

I see you watching me.
But could it be
a reflection of me
watching you?
I feel you wanting me,
but it seems again that
it's all just make believe.
Why must my love go unfelt?
Why must by you my pain be dealt?
The one I treasure,
tearing through my heart.
I give you my all,
why isn't that enough?
Do you know the tragedy you have caused?
Can you understand the emptiness?
No,
you cannot feel my wounds.
But you are the only who can heal my wounds.
How very odd.
The only one who can repair my scars
is he who re-opens them with every glance.
Oh, how rechid a beast you are!
Yet, I continue my quest for your love.
Is it worth it?
Why go on?
Will I ever win the battle?
My brain says no.
My heart continues to persist.
Battle of mind and soul,
the winner the ultimate loser.
It shall go on . . .

Not Me
by Michael Casares

Eleven O' clock rolls forward ever toward
your direction.
You, as I, am trapped behind a wall
that sways us away from a horrific site.
A site that wreaks of impurity
and would rid our minds of mental light.
Yet, you are astounded to see that I am not as you once thought,
and perhaps that dank mold has already
beseached my soul.
For not a wall could protect me.
No pain which would strike through my
skull could brace me.
When most vulnerable, when most disturbed,
that could not hold me back.
Yes, the eleven o' clock hour rolls on and
you write indiscriminately in denial of
words that prove to be true.

>Submitting<

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And so this, the second issue, of The Poet's Forum draws itself to a conclusion. This month was fun, pleae be sure to check out the poems from last months article in there respective galleries in Th e Poetry Forum if you did not get a chance to last month. Also, if there is anyone who you think might be interested in receiving a copy of The Poet's Forum please forward them this issue, I am sure they would appreciate it. Finally, if you received this issue via a forwarded message, please drop us an e-mail and subscribe (for free of course) to our e-zine. And that wraps it all up for this month, so we shall see you next. Farewell.