09-07-2017, 06:04 PM
at first reading i'd think it a keeper, it's still a keeper after subsequent reads.
i know it's 4 line stanza but my heart does little for me in the first. the 3rd stanza is the weakest, a suggestion would be to make it stronger or leave it out. i do enjoy the original imagery when you use it in this and other poems.
i know it's 4 line stanza but my heart does little for me in the first. the 3rd stanza is the weakest, a suggestion would be to make it stronger or leave it out. i do enjoy the original imagery when you use it in this and other poems.
(09-05-2017, 08:40 PM)ClaireLou Wrote: I was going to have this deleted as I lost all inspiration, it seemed like such a good idea at the time to try a different format! I have made a few amendments thanks to guidance which is appreciated, feel free to comment further, I am now on a more positive pathway with it although I'm still not liking verse 4 ... I'm thinking of deleting it altogether but it can remain for now:
My heart,
Wrapped in brown paper
Tied with old fraying string
Hollow as thoughts, silent of cry.
The patterned tag long forgotten
Hanging unwanted by my side
Words blur, Paper cockled
Like a riverbed in Summertime love the image
The Clock stopped,
Silently waiting silent feels a bit redundant.
To be reintroduced to the day
Its voice unable to share.
Breathe cold,
A floating cloud
In a blank space
Of self-doubt.
My way lost,
The tissue that crinkled with love
Now ripped & torn, the passion gone,
No happy smiles, No celebration.
This is who I am,
Forgotten as the moon on a Summer day,
A distant memory,
A deflated balloon polluting the stream in which I float. for some reason i'm minded of a spent condom but i think that's just me
---
Just written, it was harder than I thought to write something with 4 x lines for each verse! All comments welcome:
My heart aches,
Wrapped in brown paper
Tied with old fraying string
You can still feel its pain.
The pattened tag long since forgotten
Hanging unwanted by my side
Words blurr, As the tears cried
Steadily flow like a river in Summertime.
The Clock has stopped,
Silently waiting
To be reintroduced to the day
Its voice unable to share.
Breathe cold,
Once rose tinted glass now clear,
Transparent, filled with fear
That this blank space is all there will ever be.
My way lost,
The tissue that crinkled with love
Now ripped & torn, the passion gone,
No happy smiles, No celebration.
This is who I am,
Forgotten as the moon on a Summers day,
A distant memory,
A deflated balloon polluting the stream in which I float.
