stAge Fright Edit 1.01 Ella, leah, christophersea

[tectak]

Say what you wish, now we're alone
inside our common dread.
I will not speak to criticise, for time we squeeze
between warm palms must not slip free
to run like sands through clapping hands,
hot with praise and swollen red.
I say so little anymore,
of consequence or worth,
since youth bowed out, exit stage left,
and credence left on cue,
this play has gone from bad to worse.

tectak
2012

Hi, Tom, I think I'd prefer it without the "for" on L2. I don't see the need for the commas on L7 & 8.

Is your formatting same as mine, ella? It is L3 on mine. Anywhoo, I hoped it was conditionally dependent...that is, to stop to criticise permits time to be wasted. Does that make sense?
The comma issue...you are more right than wrong. The one after "worth" should be a period. Stupid of me. This has been an edited grammatical car crash. The "exit stage left" was originally, and determinedly, a Stage Instruction. You are amongst friends. It will be changed.
Best and thanks,
Tom

---

Hi, Tectak
I struggled with the image of sand running through hands that were so enthusiastically applauding that they were red and swollen.
I get "the sands of time" but we don't use hourglasses any more, and it's a stretch to try and turn a pair of applauding hands into one. Also it's really hard to squeeze and clap at the same time.
I liked 'alone inside our common dread.'
I want to know more about why 'credence left on cue'.
Best, Leah

Hi leah. Good crit. Right queries.
Yes to your interpretation....criticism and praise are a waste of time when time is running out...so do NOT clap (must NOT slip through) is the expressed wish. Just hold hands. That's what love is ultimately all about....no more fawning, no more complaining. Just hold hands. No, I didn't mention the hourglass so that cliche is only yours IF you know what an hourglass is....never underestimate the knowledge of the reader.
Why did credence leave the stage? How old are you? At a certain point, nobody believes your old stories, your tales of daring do, your truths. I guess it must be a novel thought....no one cried cliche
Best,
Tom