The Poetry In My Pocket

                               For some years now, I do not recall precisely how many, perhaps the last 8 or 10; I have carried poetry in my pocket. Not complete poems but bits and pieces I am working on. Some will remain on these sheets of paper for years before I get to them or make any progress towards their completion.
                              Mostly it's just a line or an idea. Sometimes it's only a working title. I look them over to get the proverbial creative juices flowing. Some days are better than others. Lately, I feel I suffer from perpetual writer's block. I wonder if artists or other poets or writers do the same or similair? Hemingway carried a little black book or was it Kerouac? Painters and sketchers I'm certain doodle and do studies or exercises of some sort.
                              The folded sheets will get tattered and worn at the edges and corners and I'll transcribe them onto fresh paper. Once I misplaced them and was going apeshit tearing about the house and truck and backtracking in a frantic search for them. I thought they were caught in the wash, but thankfully I found them. My anxiety relieved.
                              One of these days I'll get to them. Writing is work, so I've read. Poets are supposed to challenge themselves daily or do writing exercises or such. Maybe they're the successful ones? Anyway I'll get back to those sheets of paper today or tomorrow. The edges and corners are so worn there are holes in them. time to transcribe them or actually get to work on them or something.