#1
i am finding writing anything to be increasingly difficult. help.

while the summer is melting away,
the otters are floating down the canals and with the barges,
the sides of the river grow thin and transperant;
maybe archetypes cannot describe this life
and the otter is just an animal
indeginous, just like human beings in trucks

while the summer is humid and idle,
the otter climbs up a tree along the river
and admires a equinox sunset blown up upon its pupils.
the sides of a sun grow brown and shakey - waves.
there are no immortal thoughts, and maybe
the best part is that there are no immortal thoughts

the river never ends in a sea
they say that the ocean is ugly, anyway -
the same reflections on the impossible reach of
architecture, higher than our arms' grasp
clawing out the skies;
we have conquered the frontier. every one believes it, too.
how terrible to lose what we didn't know
and what seemed to count

but the cars are still as far out
in the road and idle. but the trees still
foam at their pores. but the grass is
brown velvet, no chemical can undo
this.
#2
while the summer is melting away,
the otters are floating down the canals and with the barges,
the sides of the river grow thin and transperant;
maybe archetypes cannot describe this life
and the otter is just an animal
indeginous, just like human beings in trucks I don't care for this line all that much. It just seems like "trucks'' don't really fit the scene that is already described

while the summer is humid and idle,
the otter climbs up a tree along the river
and admires a equinox sunset blown up upon its pupils.
the sides of a sun grow brown and shakey - waves.
there are no immortal thoughts, and maybe
the best part is that there are no immortal thoughts You already mentioned ''immortal thoughts'' in the previous line and I don't think it sounds all that great repeating it.

Also I think you should switch the first and second verse, just because the second one is about the middle of summer, while the first one is about the end of summer going into autumn


the river never ends in a sea
they say that the ocean is ugly, anyway -
the same reflections on the impossible reach of
architecture, higher than our arms' grasp
clawing out the skies;
we have conquered the frontier. every one believes it, too.
how terrible to lose what we didn't know
and what seemed to count

but the cars are still as far out
in the road and idle. but the trees still
foam at their pores. but the grass is
brown velvet, no chemical can undo
this.

I really like it. The last two stanzas especially have great imagry. I think this has a good point/moral and was well written Keep on Writing
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I am the 24 Wild Rovers
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#3
When you find it difficult to write, don't write. You can take a break for a little bit. Just don't write until an idea just kinda comes. It might take a day, it might take a month. Just wait, take a break, live your life. You'll find that you will write much better once you start writing again.

The absolute worst thing you can do is try to force it, because then it's gonna start to suck.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
#5
there's no life to it, there's no colour - it's not flowing.

don't force it man, have a rest. I haven't written a thing in months.