Writer's block
is your brain being an old battery, 
too full of internal resistance 
to force another idea through it.
The power is all present, 
but there is no illumination.

It is the dam on a stream.
standing against the turbulent water
that surges and bubbles,
tries to flow uphill,
going everywhere, anywhere
except straight through.

It is the fig bar
that gets caught on the last loop
of the spiral in the vending machine,
hanging like the Sword of Damocles,
throbbing with potential energy,
swaying as you curse and jostle
the impassive cabinet.

It is the warm-up poem
that hangs in blankness
with blinking cursor,
until...
       [i]tip, tap, tip[/i]
the faucet loosens
and the rattling words flow!