invitation for public slicing, dicing, and other constructive skewering

legerdemer

lost at sea
Joined
Dec 11, 2014
Posts
7,319
I've been thinking about putting a few toes out here. Tentatively. The first is definitely a work in progress, it has an unfinished feel to me. Have at it, critics!


To Simpler Times...

When rose petals distilled to their essence
so only the scent remains,
when fingertips touch naked skin, leave fire trails,
when you hum softly, unaware,

that's when I recall the quiet in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savoring the flavor of orange marmalade and buttered scone
at silent dawn,
a cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces
of implied promises kept,
or not.
The dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still, you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams and stormy seas
and pain and drought.

And I recall that once we shared all that
and more. We now set store by blind watches,
shredded statues;
marble crumbles where it falls.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out, and once again,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I, again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.
 
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The Spring Challenge, I think, legerdemer, is spawning a lot of imaginative efforts. I've picked up a few ideas from some that didn't make the final cut, some that did, and also from tod's recent revision on another thread.

I'll look forward read this in detail tonight or tomorrow when I have more time.
 
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Naught to skewer, leger, but perhaps a little to slice and dice.

Overall I find it subtle and very pleasing: good images and metaphors in a fitting rhythm, and, were I to re-write it in a fit of hubris, I'd make very little change. Line three, possibly "leaving fiery trails," or "leaving fire trails" if the fire is the object. Line five, I definitely find "moments in between" suits the meter and emphasizes the sense of the limnal. And the middle couplet, "Forged...," seems very intrusive of both rhythm and sense to my mind and tongue. I'd drop it, but, then, I'm not sure what role you saw it playing. If you think the sense necessary, I'd suggest you give some thought to the phrasing.

Thanks again for the offering; I did/do very much enjoy the piece.
 
Naught to skewer, leger, but perhaps a little to slice and dice.

Overall I find it subtle and very pleasing: good images and metaphors in a fitting rhythm, and, were I to re-write it in a fit of hubris, I'd make very little change. Line three, possibly "leaving fiery trails," or "leaving fire trails" if the fire is the object. Line five, I definitely find "moments in between" suits the meter and emphasizes the sense of the limnal. And the middle couplet, "Forged...," seems very intrusive of both rhythm and sense to my mind and tongue. I'd drop it, but, then, I'm not sure what role you saw it playing. If you think the sense necessary, I'd suggest you give some thought to the phrasing.

Thanks again for the offering; I did/do very much enjoy the piece.

Thank you, Tio. The "forged" couplet is definitely giving me trouble - I add and delete it over and over, can't make up my mind but I deleted it now.

Thanks for the suggestion on" leaving". I'm not sure...

And thank you for reading it and commenting. :rose:
 
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An edit...

To Simpler Times...

When rose petals distilled to their essence
so only the scent remains,
when fingertips touch naked skin, leave fire trails,
when you hum softly, unaware,

that's when I recall the quiet in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savoring the flavor of orange marmalade and buttered scone
at silent dawn,
a cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces,
of implied promises kept,
or not.
The dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams and stormy seas
and pain and drought.
And I recall that once we shared all that
and more.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.
 
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I'd cut it further if you'll excuse the intrusion!
.
Rose petals distilled to their essence
only scent remains,
fingertips touch naked skin, leave fiery trails,
you hum softly, unaware,

I recall the quiet in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savoring the flavor of orange marmalade
and buttered scone at silent dawn,
a cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces,
implied promises kept,
or not.
Dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams, stormy seas
of pain and drought.
And I recall that once we shared all that
and more.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.
 
I'd cut it further if you'll excuse the intrusion.

Of course, the intrusion was invited and is welcome. I like most of your suggestions. A few, like in the first stanza, change the sense a tad too much IMO as they stand, but I think I see a way forward that will take advantage of your advice and keep closer to my intent.

Thank you! :rose:
 
I've been thinking about putting a few toes out here. Tentatively. The first is definitely a work in progress, it has an unfinished feel to me. Have at it, critics!


To Simpler Times...

When rose petals distilled to their essence
so only the scent remains,
when fingertips touch naked skin, leave fire trails,
when you hum softly, unaware,

that's when I recall the quiet in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savoring the flavor of orange marmalade and buttered scone
at silent dawn,
a cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces
of implied promises kept,
or not.
The dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still, you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams and stormy seas
and pain and drought.

And I recall that once we shared all that
and more. We now set store by blind watches,
shredded statues;
marble crumbles where it falls.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out, and once again,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I, again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.

Lovely poem, legerdemer. I wanted the "to" in the first line deleted until I looked up "distill" and found it can be either a transitive or intransitive verb. It convinced me that you gave that simple word thought; it wasn't just a tossed in word.

"Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass," didn't work for me, particularly with tea and scones following. These one drinks and eats. Molasses is more an ingredient that is added to something to eat. It felt like you were trying make the line smoother. If so, I think "Reisling" may have been a better choice.

I would have emphasized the past tense more in the second stanza:

that's when I recall those quiet in between moments.
Evenings poured slowly, Reisling in a glass,
and then the morning when I savored
marmalade on a buttered scone
silent in the dawn

a cup of tea in hand.

Somehow I think you as silent, ie, peaceful" works better than a silent dawn.

A very enjoyable read, legerdemer.
 
To Simpler Times...

When rose petals distilled to their essence
so only the scent remains,
when fingertips touch naked skin, leave fire trails,
when you hum softly, unaware,

that's when I recall the quiet in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savoring the flavor of orange marmalade and buttered scone
at silent dawn,
a cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces,
of implied promises kept,
or not.
The dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams and stormy seas
and pain and drought.
And I recall that once we shared all that
and more.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.

i like almost all of this as it stands; a slight tinker with words, line breaks if i may and see if you like it any better. no guarantee you will, but i like to keep a poem's original words and sense as much as possible:

To Simpler Times...

When rose petals
distilled to their essence
so only scent remains;
when fingertips touch naked skin, leave fire trails;
when you hum softly, unaware,
that's when I recall the quiet in between moments.

Evenings poured slowly, molasses from a jar;
times spent savoring the flavor of orange
marmalade and buttered scone
at silent dawn,
cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces,
of implied promises kept,
or not.
The dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams and stormy seas
and pain and drought.
And I recall that once we shared all that
and more.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.
 
I've been thinking about putting a few toes out here. Tentatively. The first is definitely a work in progress, it has an unfinished feel to me. Have at it, critics!


To Simpler Times...

(When) rose petals distilled to (their) essence(,)
(so) only the scent remains,
(when) fingertips touch naked skin, leave fire trails,
(when) you hum softly, unaware,

(that's when) I recall the quiet(,) in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savor(ing) the flavor of orange marmalade and buttered scone
a(t) silent dawn,
(a) cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
(and) embraces
(of) implied promises kept,
or not.
(The) dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still, you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
(of) heedless dreams and stormy seas(,)
(and) pain and drought.

(And) I recall that once we shared all that
and more(,) (We now) set store by blind watches,
shredded statues;
marble crumbles where it falls.

I watch your naked(,) sleeping(,) folded form
breathe in and out, and once again,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I, again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.

I'll have a go
 
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thanks to gm, butters & HarryHill

More good suggestions to tinker with and ponder....


I'm sure others have found something similar, but I "discovered" after the fact that this one goes with a poem I submitted earlier in the year, Seeds of Doubt. Now I'm trying to figure out how to link them in some way, if only by their titles.
 
More good suggestions to tinker with and ponder....


I'm sure others have found something similar, but I "discovered" after the fact that this one goes with a poem I submitted earlier in the year, Seeds of Doubt. Now I'm trying to figure out how to link them in some way, if only by their titles.

Can you re-post here so I can compare it? I like your poetry. You have a wonderful way with diction, and I'd like to imagine how you might link the two.
 
Seeds of Doubt

Words sometimes skip like stones
across the surface of a limpid lake.
Each kiss makes rippling waves,
peaks and valleys that reverberate.

Or they can surf like a leaf
fallen from a weeping willow,
connecting all points
between here and there.

They may whisper like feathers
across skin warmed by an evening fire,
or a glass of brandy's liquid heat.

Convey love,
banish doubt and fear.
Those words warm me
from the inside out
and outside in.

But when contempt scorches all in its path,
cuts swaths into the ice,
carves an abyss between you and I,
Do I distrust the words and the love they bring?

If I forgive you and you forgive me,
is that bridge enough to walk across
the fallow field, plowed under,
burned in the winter,
awaiting seeds of love in spring?

poem appears here
 
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Supercalipsychobabblepseudofragilistic

I was thinking about a conversation I was having today, and the start of this little ditty just hit me. Coitus poeticus interruptus. I think I may need to replace 'whore' in the last line.

And the title is most definitely a 1 am, not able to sleep, confection. One of those made up words you fall in love with and know you should flush down the toilet, but I just can't. I like it too much. :)




I like to think the best of folk,
occasionally the worst.
Sometimes I put my foot in it,
adding my two cents' worth.

The internet's a foggy mirror
that's smeared with Vaseline,
reflecting our own defeats,
and some false modesty.

It rarely lifts its veil for us,
this creature of distrust.
Tempts us to flirt, sometimes to sin,
then treats us with disgust.
 
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I was thinking about a conversation I was having today, and the start of this little ditty just hit me. Coitus poeticus interruptus. I think I may need to replace 'whore' in the last line.

And the title is most definitely a 1 am, not able to sleep, confection. One of those made up words you fall in love with and know you should flush down the toilet, but I just can't. I like it too much. :)




I like to think the best of folk,
occasionally the worst.
I love putting my foot in it,
a clumsy oaf-y roast.

The internet's a foggy mirror
that's smeared with Vaseline,
reflecting our own defeats,
a falsely modest ghost.

It rarely lifts its veil for us,
this creature of disgust.
Tempts us to flirt and, yes, to sin
and treats us like a whore.

Youre writing cryptograms again, and studying tea leaves (or your garbage). Make your coherent point and illuminate it creatively.
 
I'd cut it further if you'll excuse the intrusion!
.
Rose petals distilled to their essence
only scent remains,
fingertips touch naked skin, leave fiery trails,
you hum softly, unaware,

I recall the quiet in between moments.
Evenings pour slowly, molasses in a glass,
savoring the flavor of orange marmalade
and buttered scone at silent dawn,
a cup of tea in hand.

Lovers turned thieves of kisses
and embraces,
implied promises kept,
or not.
Dawn's the only time to mourn
what once we had.

Still you turn that smile on me,
a touch of melancholy,
of heedless dreams, stormy seas
of pain and drought.
And I recall that once we shared all that
and more.

I watch your naked sleeping folded form
breathe in and out,
the space between the breaths no longer seen
nor heard.

Perhaps it's you and I again, my friend.
A few more years, a restless tune
deferred.

^^^^^another garbage browser without a point.
 
Youre writing cryptograms again, and studying tea leaves (or your garbage). Make your coherent point and illuminate it creatively.

My navel, dear Jimmy, my navel. And as a parallel to what you said elsewhere, it's mine to study.
 
I Float Above The Hanging Gardens - wip

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
suspended in Malaysian water,
the sun above, abyss beneath,
gorgonian ruff around volcanic reef.

The lacework fronds sway not, or very gently.
I still my breath,
trick fish into mistaking me
for their own kin.

Color sprays vivid as azaleas in spring,
pinks, fuchsias, oranges, and purples.
Delicate tendrils, reaching
deceptively; brittle, not soft.

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
imagining my walk through alleyways,
through gates, 'tween hedges, beneath arches
where silence roams with me.

The clowns and triggers, angelfish, and even sharks
ignore or consider me, curious.
The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks
their nips echo throughout.

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
go back to lose myself in dreams.
I feel the warm touch of blue water,
its solace easy to get lost in.


(Two people have suggested that last line needs to go... hmmm... inspiration, where the hell are you?)
 
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I float above the Hanging Gardens,
suspended in Malaysian water,
the sun above, abyss beneath,
gorgonian ruff around volcanic reef.

The lacework fronds sway not, or very gently.
I still my breath,
trick fish into mistaking me
for their own kin.

Color sprays vivid as azaleas in spring,
pinks, fuchsias, oranges, and purples.
Delicate tendrils, reaching
deceptively; brittle, not soft.

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
imagining my walk through alleyways,
through gates, 'tween hedges, beneath arches
where silence roams with me.

The clowns and triggers, angelfish, and even sharks
ignore or consider me, curious.
The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks
their nips echo throughout.

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
go back to lose myself in dreams.
I feel the warm touch of blue water,
its solace easy to get lost in.


(Two people have suggested that last line needs to go... hmmm... inspiration, where the hell are you?)


Ditch the last line, it's that insidious tell ;) and you described the feeling in all before it, I feel the warm touch of blue water is a beautiful image and great end cap.

Does hanging gardens need to be here?

"I float above the Hanging Gardens"

I float as an opener adds curiosity and draws the reader along into the wonderful images you create further along,

could cut "abyss beneath"

ruff and reef have enough alliterative and sonic connotation to hold the line with out the near rhyme of reef and beneath. Abyss also makes me see deep empty nothing, as opposed to the reef and beauty you want depicted.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The lacework fronds sway not, or very gently" I found this line a tad awkward, it to me would read better

the lacework fronds sway gently,

which ties into the theme of floating on water a soft lap of waves, and give the line definite structure, as opposed to two opposing thoughts, I mean are they swaying or aren't they ;) .
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would cut this,

trick fish into mistaking me
for their own kin.

to me it adds nothing to the poem.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

this section is beautiful a rainbow treat to the imagination, but I don't think "deceptively" is needed
if it's brittle, not soft, then the contrast suggest deception.

Color sprays vivid as azaleas in spring,
pinks, fuchsias, oranges, and purples.
Delicate tendrils, reaching
deceptively; brittle, not soft.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

would maybe switch imagining, to imagine? not sure I screw up tense etc all the time, but to me "imagine" puts more immediacy to the word, and is almost a trigger for the reader to "imagine" the next set of lines. and I would probably cut either tween hedges, or beneath arches, condense it down a little

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
imagining my walk through alleyways,
through gates, 'tween hedges, beneath arches
where silence roams with me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(sorry GM) I would cut "the" from the first line, and maybe restructure the stanza i.e.

"clowns and triggers
angelfish and sharks,
ignore or consider me, curious
as parrot fish attack the reef
ticking clocks who's echo's
nip throughout"

The clowns and triggers, angelfish, and even sharks
ignore or consider me, curious.
The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks
their nips echo throughout.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
First, thank you so much, Todski, for the analysis. I like many of your suggestions.

Ditch the last line, it's that insidious tell ;) and you described the feeling in all before it, I feel the warm touch of blue water is a beautiful image and great end cap.

Does hanging gardens need to be here?

"I float above the Hanging Gardens"

It doesn't but the place really exists. Not that it needs to in the poem...I'll definitely try it without.

I float as an opener adds curiosity and draws the reader along into the wonderful images you create further along,

could cut "abyss beneath"

ruff and reef have enough alliterative and sonic connotation to hold the line with out the near rhyme of reef and beneath. Abyss also makes me see deep empty nothing, as opposed to the reef and beauty you want depicted.


Actually, I really do want to convey that stark contrast between the richness and lushness of the reef itself and the stark empty blue water right next to it. Do you dive? Or snorkel? Being near the GBR and all...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The lacework fronds sway not, or very gently" I found this line a tad awkward, it to me would read better

the lacework fronds sway gently,

which ties into the theme of floating on water a soft lap of waves, and give the line definite structure, as opposed to two opposing thoughts, I mean are they swaying or aren't they ;) .


Either, depending on the current. Needs more work...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would cut this,

trick fish into mistaking me
for their own kin.

to me it adds nothing to the poem.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

this section is beautiful a rainbow treat to the imagination, but I don't think "deceptively" is needed
if it's brittle, not soft, then the contrast suggest deception.

Color sprays vivid as azaleas in spring,
pinks, fuchsias, oranges, and purples.
Delicate tendrils, reaching
deceptively; brittle, not soft.

Agreed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

would maybe switch imagining, to imagine? not sure I screw up tense etc all the time, but to me "imagine" puts more immediacy to the word, and is almost a trigger for the reader to "imagine" the next set of lines. and I would probably cut either tween hedges, or beneath arches, condense it down a little

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
imagining my walk through alleyways,
through gates, 'tween hedges, beneath arches
where silence roams with me.

I like imagine. Thought about cutting down to two from three, will try various combinations.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(sorry GM) I would cut "the" from the first line, and maybe restructure the stanza i.e.

"clowns and triggers
angelfish and sharks,
ignore or consider me, curious
as parrot fish attack the reef
ticking clocks who's echo's
nip throughout"

The clowns and triggers, angelfish, and even sharks
ignore or consider me, curious.
The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks
their nips echo throughout.

Perhaps no 'as' as well, in the third line of your version...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Just a few thoughts.


todski28 said:
could cut "abyss beneath"
legerdemer said:
Actually, I really do want to convey that stark contrast between the richness and lushness of the reef itself and the stark empty blue water right next to it.

Agree with you here. I like the way these two lines play with each other:
the sun above, abyss beneath,
gorgonian ruff around volcanic reef.​
And it places you and the reef in suspension between the sky and the deep. I really like this stanza as a whole.


Aside from my own ear, I have no reason behind it, but I keep wanting to lop off "the" in a few places as I'm reading this:

The lacework fronds
The clowns and triggers
The parrot fish​


I really like this piece, by the way. So lovely and peaceful. :)
 
Thank you for your input, Lyric_Calli. I will play with your suggestions as well.


Just a few thoughts.




Agree with you here. I like the way these two lines play with each other:
the sun above, abyss beneath,
gorgonian ruff around volcanic reef.​
And it places you and the reef in suspension between the sky and the deep. I really like this stanza as a whole.


Aside from my own ear, I have no reason behind it, but I keep wanting to lop off "the" in a few places as I'm reading this:

The lacework fronds
The clowns and triggers
The parrot fish​


I really like this piece, by the way. So lovely and peaceful. :)
 
I float above the Hanging Gardens,
suspended in Malaysian water,
the sun above, abyss beneath,
gorgonian ruff around volcanic reef.

The lacework fronds sway not, or very gently.
I still my breath,
trick fish into mistaking me
for their own kin.

Color sprays vivid as azaleas in spring,
pinks, fuchsias, oranges, and purples.
Delicate tendrils, reaching
deceptively; brittle, not soft.

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
imagining my walk through alleyways,
through gates, 'tween hedges, beneath arches
where silence roams with me.

The clowns and triggers, angelfish, and even sharks
ignore or consider me, curious.
The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks
their nips echo throughout.

I float above the Hanging Gardens,
go back to lose myself in dreams.
I feel the warm touch of blue water,
its solace easy to get lost in.


(Two people have suggested that last line needs to go... hmmm... inspiration, where the hell are you?)

I would take out "tween" and "sway not." It's not so much a problem that they are archaic but that they don't match the voice of the rest of the poem.

I'd look at the commas overall. In some cases other punctuation is right. For example:

The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks

You either need a conjunction ("and") or you need a full stop between "reef" and "like." I think the best solution is to delete "like ticking clocks." The image doesn't add to the poem.

I'd comb through the poem and try to cut back ten percent. Let it sit for a few days and then try to cut another ten percent. Keep going till you feel there is nothing more you can lose without affecting the essentials of the poem. See what you come up with. It's a way of forcing oneself to think about exactly what one wants to say and it makes a poem tighter. I struggle with this all the time but find it really helps to push myself to do it.

I do think there are problems with that last line. The main thing is ending with "in." That's a weak word in a place where you need a strong one. It's the last thing a reader gets from your poem. You could say more directly "the solace where I am lost." "Lost is an important word in that line (the other is "solace"), so better to find a way to emphasize it. You could also be metaphorical and end with an image, like looking for a map (for example).

You have a lot of great imagery and I love that your poem stays on track as far as the theme of losing yourself.

These are just my opinions so if they don't work for you, no worries! Also you did say "skewer." :)

:rose:
 
I would take out "tween" and "sway not." It's not so much a problem that they are archaic but that they don't match the voice of the rest of the poem.

I'd look at the commas overall. In some cases other punctuation is right. For example:

The parrot fish attack the reef, like ticking clocks

You either need a conjunction ("and") or you need a full stop between "reef" and "like." I think the best solution is to delete "like ticking clocks." The image doesn't add to the poem.

I'd comb through the poem and try to cut back ten percent. Let it sit for a few days and then try to cut another ten percent. Keep going till you feel there is nothing more you can lose without affecting the essentials of the poem. See what you come up with. It's a way of forcing oneself to think about exactly what one wants to say and it makes a poem tighter. I struggle with this all the time but find it really helps to push myself to do it.

I do think there are problems with that last line. The main thing is ending with "in." That's a weak word in a place where you need a strong one. It's the last thing a reader gets from your poem. You could say more directly "the solace where I am lost." "Lost is an important word in that line (the other is "solace"), so better to find a way to emphasize it. You could also be metaphorical and end with an image, like looking for a map (for example).

You have a lot of great imagery and I love that your poem stays on track as far as the theme of losing yourself.

These are just my opinions so if they don't work for you, no worries! Also you did say "skewer." :)

:rose:

And I really meant "skewer," but I don't feel that you really did - thank you for the very thoughtful run-through. Much to think about.

Only one place I want to explain (I often find explanations aren't adequate, or useful, but this one might be one or both) - "the ticking clocks" is there to convey the sound of the reef, both literally and in some way figuratively. Reefs grow and decay, they are degraded by man's carelessness but also benefit from conservation efforts. They really are natural works of architecture and art, preserved through time. That's what I need to get across, in my mind. Now to put it on paper....
 
And I really meant "skewer," but I don't feel that you really did - thank you for the very thoughtful run-through. Much to think about.

Only one place I want to explain (I often find explanations aren't adequate, or useful, but this one might be one or both) - "the ticking clocks" is there to convey the sound of the reef, both literally and in some way figuratively. Reefs grow and decay, they are degraded by man's carelessness but also benefit from conservation efforts. They really are natural works of architecture and art, preserved through time. That's what I need to get across, in my mind. Now to put it on paper....

You're welcome. I think about this stuff a lot. :cool:

There are various ways to say "ticking clock." You can imply it with something like "tick of decay" or "crumbling echo." Just a thought.

I like to read sort of related poems when I am writing, so I can see how great (imho) writers do something similar. Your poem made me think of Diving Into The Wreck.
 
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