The mirror of the my artist's soul- chips.
When such cracks bubble over with the requiem that silently becomes the hearts blood,
That blood transcends into tears and thoughts unshed, and one can only observe that the sweep of the sun brings relief,
the nightingale's song- tangled content,
and the resonance of man- troubling.
the one with sewn lips
whose only defense is a pencil in her teeth and the boundless paper in her hands, she strikes
the dirge of the romantic's soul.
2007-08-14 06:11:41 · 3 answers · asked by Manny 1 in Arts & Humanities ➔ Poetry
Nice job, though you really didn't find your "voice" until "the nightingale's song-tangled content." I'd work on it a bit more, and change "blood transcends" into blood transforms" to get the imagery right. Thank you for sharing.
2007-08-14 06:56:59 · answer #1 · answered by Mr. Grudge 5 · 0⤊ 0⤋
Well, there are certainly a number of contrasting, and sometimes conflicting metaphors here. The title shows the pains of the poem..."the mirror of the my artist soul-chips"...what? "of the my"? "soul-chips"? You really need to find an image and relay "that" image...you have so many of them that we can't stay with you. It's not that they are all bad, but they are just too disjointed...they don't work together, and sometimes, as in sewn lips, pencil in the teeth, etc., they work against each other. Editing could help this a great deal...cut, cut, cut...trim it down until it's lean and crisp. you have a good ear, tell it that you want short, sharp and clear.
keep writing
2007-08-14 20:03:36 · answer #2 · answered by Kevin S 7 · 0⤊ 1⤋
Like it. But she can't have a pencil in her teeth if she has sewn lips.
2007-08-14 06:33:50 · answer #3 · answered by Jackolantern 7 · 0⤊ 0⤋