Guest Phoenix Posted December 13, 2006 Report Posted December 13, 2006 time was words were my escape pouring frustration onto the page like liquid couched in florid lines of expression woven fantasties around my miseries looking forever forward my dreams would lead me on images of pure clarity resounding across my battered mind in peals which brought me peace but now i'm tired i stare at page after blank page scribbled with meaningless words and feel empty too drained of i know not what to weave my castled flights of fantasy i am numb from the beating, drumming endlessness of it my hands shake fatigue across the page as i write in spider crawling handwriting my view of the world angles too exhausted to even lift my head my pen drops the ink blot spreads erasing the scratchings words are not enough
reverie Posted December 13, 2006 Report Posted December 13, 2006 (edited) Too true. Writing is great escape, but only in the short run. Here's a few suggestions. Think you're close to something here. rev... Time was (colloquialism, haven't heard that one in a while--cool) words were my escape pouring frustration onto the page like liquid couched in florid lines of expression-- woven fantasies (sp) around my misery. Forever looking forward my dreams would lead me on images (consider subing: journies, travels, escapes, retreats etc) of the purest clarity resounding / resonate across my battered mind in peals, which (for a time) brought me peace, but now I am tired I stare at page after blank page scribbled with meaningless words and feel --empty-- too drained of I know not of what to weave my castled fortressed flights of fantasy I am numb from the beating--drumming endlessness of it my hands fatigued, shake across the page as I write in spider crawling handwriting scrawl (or in spider scrawled/ing handwriting) my view of the world tipped at a (describitive word here) angles too exhausted to even lift my head my pen drops the (possible describitive word here like: bitter) ink blot spreads erasing blotting out the scratchwork -- or : Words are not enough. Edited December 13, 2006 by reverie
Regel Posted December 14, 2006 Report Posted December 14, 2006 Words are not ever enough. If I could speak to the message and not to the art form here is what I would say. There is a time for words but there is also a time to act. When words fail it is because everything that needed to be said has been said. My question that I often of late ask myself is " Have I done what needed to be done?" I do not pretend to know your circumstances Phoenix but that is the message within the message I read.
Guest Phoenix Posted December 29, 2006 Report Posted December 29, 2006 (edited) its taken me a while to come back to this i wrote it a while ago and it still jars me, i guess i'm more worried about making it a tight poem than about the issues it raises for me i'm dealing with them, and will continue to but thank you for your concern, Regel Reverie, i've taken some of your suggestions and not others.. some of the part you dropped - like the 'shaking fatigue' for example, were my favourite images. i'm hoping they fit better now with the rest of the piece. it does feel tighter than it did before. Comments on the new version would be nice, if you have time, or if you feel like it thanks Nix *sheepishly comes back and adds the revised version to the post* *wanders off to find her brain...* Time was words were my escape pouring frustration onto the page like liquid couched in florid lines of expression woven fantasies around my misery Forever looking forward my dreams lead me on images of pure clarity resound across my battered mind in peals, which for a time brought peace but now i am tired I stare at page after blank page scribbled with meaningless words empty... too drained of I know not what to weave my fortressed flights of fantasy I am numb from the beating, drumming endlessness my hands shake fatigue across the page as I write in spider scrawling handwriting my view of the world falls to a jangling angle too exhausted to lift my head my pen drops ink spreads Words are not enough i haven't got the brain to go through and highlight the parts i've changed and haven't right now i'll come back later Edited December 29, 2006 by Phoenix
reverie Posted December 29, 2006 Report Posted December 29, 2006 No problem Nix. Time was words were my escape pouring frustration onto the page like liquid couched in florid lines of expression woven fantasies around my misery (period? or do you want the thought to continues into the next stanza) *** Hmm, can't really suggest anything concrete for the first stanza, but I can attempt to bring something to your attention; Lets look at the stanza as if it was a sentence: Time was words were my escape--/: pouring frustration onto the page like liquid couched in florid lines of expression--woven fantasies around my misery. Double meanings here. "pour" --to cause to flow; to vent/express combine with "couched" specifically "liquid" being "couched" --to embroider, to express/phrase. Liquid Images vs woven images vs variations on the act of expression. Conflict? not sure. Liquid images are explicit because of "simile" Line four qualifies/explains the simile, thus "woven fantasies" line is a really a metaphor for line one and two. Neat. *** Forever looking forward (not sure if this is a continuation of last line of previous stanza or not.) my dreams lead me on images of pure clarity resound across my battered mind in peals, which for a time brought peace *** Hmm let's do the same thing for this stanza: Forever looking forward, my dreams lead me on ---> images (dual beginning/ending word phrasing?) of pure clarity resound across my battered mind in peals, which for a time brought peace I think punctuation can clarify some of the syntax/phrasing issues. Forever looking forward my dreams lead me on. (think you need the hard stop of a period to avoid a clash with the next image. A colon or dash wouldn't work unless you rephrased*) images of pure clarity resound across my battered mind *my dreams lead me on: images of pure clarity resounding across my battered mind. am a little tired, so that all I can do for now. take care, rev...
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