Wild Wednesday: dead words talking

Pull them out

one by one

Each word

standing, 

straight and tall

stiffly moving, 

side by side

Each line

stretching,

solid and long

flat lining,

dead words talking

Put them back

one by one

 * there are so many times I feel the stream of words inside me-  fluid and ever so flexible...but when I pull them out and put them on paper (or the screen) they march stiffly across the page-- taunting me. I scratch my head, wondering where the fluidity went....I play with each line attempting to make it move to the rhythm in my head....but the lines mock me with their deadness.The words shrivel up...my attempts at writing are "prune like phrases"...."pickled lines"...causing me to choke as I reread each sentence. They strut along stilted...wooden words lining up side by side. No life emanating from them; they just stand awkwardly, awaiting dismantling.  

I explore means and methods to revive my words. I breathe on them wishing for them to touch me. They stare back at me like matchstick drawings instead of oil paintings....click clack...words rubbing the wrong way against each other...knick knock...the idea is in my head...I feel the flow.... I look at the words...turn them upside down....plop.

Oh for layers upon layers of words...words slipping through my brain and onto the paper in front of me...like honey or intoxicating perfume...seeping through each pore... but no, each word stands in defiance....no matching pair can be found. I put them back for now...in the meantime, the above piece was born.