Swallowing Poems

Have you ever taken a really big gulp of water and got it stuck in your throat? And it feels like your throat is swollen to twice its size? It feels like its stuck there and the bulge of water will never move. You have a choice to make, up or down. Sometimes you spit it up and sometimes you wince and swallow it, against your better judgment.

That's what it feels like to swallow a poem, I think. For the past week or so, I've been so busy at work and finals and stuff, that I haven't really been able to sit down and write. So my poet-mind is still working and I see or feel things that could be poems, if I spend the time to jot them down. But I'm rushing around so much that I have to swallow it down. It's slightly uncomfortable, but necessary on busy days.

I wonder how other poets deal with this. Do they take the time to write when they're busy in their other lives or do they swallow it and remember it for later? I think I should be grateful that at least I'm still noticing little snaps of images and that I can catalog those for later. I just hope that they remain in my memory long enough to write on them later.