Eiji Tunsinagi

At this hour even the sun
presses the snooze button -

my hammer and my sweat
beads red as the trees light

red dust floating at dawn
exposing the flaws
within the window, rusty

my grip prying off
the many faces this
Victorian dresser attempts

to hide in fading night
the hawk's stare blind

eyes masked and ears open
a silver knot at his back


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I've been working with this one a bit...wonder if it's getting anywhere.

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"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Mermaid on the breakwater

I had to read this one through a few times to understand it but I still don't get the last two lines...

It has a certain still quality to it but it's just a bit jarring. I can't get the rhythm in this one.

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Ambiance Artists Anthology: http://www.lulu.com/content/2293077

Baron

I have to agree with MotB on this one. You don't seem to quite have the magic on these last two posts and I think that you should put a little more work into both of them.

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Eiji Tunsinagi

Yeah, I don't know what's going on...I'd say I'm trying different things, but I'm really not. I think I'm just writing through a few crap spots. I like this one but it is definitely missing something...

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"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Mermaid on the breakwater

No, it's fine, don't put yourself down becuase you can't make a poem click. We all have good ones and bad ones, that's just the nature of the beast. It's not that this is crap, far from it, but it's lacking that spark and the rhythm just isn't there. Try changing the stanza lengths, try shuffling the words and try writing it again. There's a still quality to this poem, as there is in a lot of your poems but this one is lacking the punch.

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Ambiance Artists Anthology: http://www.lulu.com/content/2293077

vangoghsear

I was with you right up to the last two stanzas. Tell us what you are trying to say in those, it may trigger a way to say it in the poem. Your experiments seem to be cutting down on the words, that is good, but they still need to say what you mean them to say.

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If writing is wrong, I don't want to be right.

SteMcGrath

It seems like your rushing work out. Writing with thought but without feeling. It's moments like these that makes you better (I think). I had to wriggle my way out of the green grocers!

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"He was over at our house struggling with a poem he could not finish, so I took him upstairs and gave him sex. He came down and finished that verse in twenty-five minutes."

Eiji Tunsinagi

I think I am going to rewrite this and come at it from a different angle. Thanks guys.

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"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Eiji Tunsinagi

LOL Thanks, I know what you mean. I need this, so I can see what I am missing...

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"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Baron

You're not there yet

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Baron

Once again, strangely, I agree with most of what MotB says. Work on it ot put it aside for a couple of days and come back to it.

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Mermaid on the breakwater

It's becuase we're so similar, baron; we both get pissed off at our own inability to convey ourselves at times and react in a way that is not entirely necessary. Am I right? And by the way, this is the closest you'll get to an apology.

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Ambiance Artists Anthology: http://www.lulu.com/content/2293077

SteMcGrath

Nothing of the sort has been mentioned for at least...Three poems.

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"He was over at our house struggling with a poem he could not finish, so I took him upstairs and gave him sex. He came down and finished that verse in twenty-five minutes."

Baron

Take a look in the latest poetry chalenge thread.

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SteMcGrath

You wait Baron. Another chance to obliterate my future posts with taunts of fruit and veg!

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"He was over at our house struggling with a poem he could not finish, so I took him upstairs and gave him sex. He came down and finished that verse in twenty-five minutes."