top of page
Search
  • Anxious Poets Society

The Art of Sitting Vacantly


How many days do I need to blur my eyes in front of my laptop just to get a single shred of inspiration before my brain atrophies to the point where I cannot formulate a single thought and before I transfer my frustrations to a cloud where my files reside and not transfer myself to a cloud reachable only through the hands I'm currently using to type this poem?

 

Jack M. Freedman is a poet and spoken word artist from Staten Island, NY. He penned the chapbooks Never Lick the Spoon, Tobias, and Art Therapy 101. Publications featuring his work span North America, Western Europe, and Southeast Asia.

#eyes #inspiration #brain #thought #cloud

29 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

I. Your skin is wet paste sticking to a hospital wristband Under an empty wide gaze that sees nothing. Though I imagine how pretty you must look With your friends at the park, Lying on a picnic table,

blank paper sheets waiting to be filled on the study table, she picked her pen up every ink burst’s her spell word by word, she started weaving kingdom—her utopia. before her eyes, an ethereal scenery

More powerful than a locomotive, able to leap reality in a single bound, it’s a nuclear bomb, it’s a super computer: it’s the age-old strain of virulent addiction. Once in its ravenous and raptor claw

bottom of page