Words So Futile
I breathe out a verse into
the palm of my hand, air curving my gnarled fingers through its wearisome grip, nostalgic for a time and place I can't name; But I can feel its wind getting ready for winter, And can see its wire trees undressing themselves, And I can hear this place laughing when it finds out I'm trying to convey it in a single breath. |
Apt title.
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I've re-read this several times...it's actually quite good.
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Haha, okay. Thank you!
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Yeah I think its really really good too.
/not constructive |
I saw that you made a comment in one of Cquill's lyrics that his attention to punctuation and the sort would be beneficial for his craft. I think that is an admirable observation on it's own, yet I see that your own use of these things might lead some readers to confusion. I would say pay attention to your capitalization at the beginning of your lines and the run on first sentence, which is grammatically incorrect but useful in some forms of prose and poetry. I did enjoy the poem, though. The imagery and the aches you feel for the narrator's futility in his nonification issues is really subtle and rich. This is not easy to accomplish in such a short piece. Nice~
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I've got no idea why I capitalized "grip" and "air".
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I like it. Simple but very poetic. Do you have music for it?
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No, it's just a poem.
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Good stuff. I think you can tell it's a poem and not a lyric because of the word "gnarled", which would sound stupid in a song.
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