12·June·2006 · "writing graciously on angry paper" · My Erotic Trail

[The Poets]

writing graciously on angry paper

Outside, my mind's lips whisper
to fingers graciously gliding over gilded lines.
Exhaling passion heavily in earnest
my cursive breath made the paper rise.
I inhaled deeply a hot thought of a summer scent
and the paper died, but its spirit revived
in a gust. That breeze that brings life
to thoughts.

I grasped the angry page in a death grip,
demanding it receive thoughts I penned.
Reaching for a draft to strangle hold,
mere dust devils in tornado training.
I swirled in the literary sand box of white
building images to be granules
in the wind.

Tattooing saw dust and glue,
branding this albino creature,
its wings slapping the table
as a breeze passed by. Wanting to fly.
Showing its temperament in a rustled tantrum
while I held it down. Tackling corner pages
still wanting to fight.

A chained slave the paper whimpers
pleading in ripples upon its fringes.
I drive a spear across its flesh,
my patriot the pen killing sentences.
Submissive ink did as it was told, scrolled,
writing graciously on angry paper.

 

[cherries_on_snow]

writing graciously on angry paper

Outside, my mind's lips whisper
to fingers graciously gliding over gilded lines. This feels like too much alliteration. I'd take
Exhaling passion heavily in earnest out gilded because later you speak of
my cursive breath made the paper rise. tatooing, and that makes me think
I inhaled deeply a hot thought of a summer scent black, not gold.
and the paper died, but its spirit revived
in a gust. That breeze that brings life I'd replace the period after gust with a
to thoughts. comma and eliminate the fragment

I grasped the angry page in a death grip, The page becoming angry seems
demanding it receive thoughts I penned. a new circumstance not entirely explained.
Reaching for a draft to strangle hold, more foreshadowing of it being angry
mere dust devils in tornado training. or hinting to why it is angry would be good (love dust devils in tornado training. you
I swirled in the literary sand box of white don't need the comma after hold.
building images to be granules
in the wind.

Tattooing saw dust and glue, sawdust (eliminate verb ambiguity)
branding this albino creature, I'd put a subject in here (I brand) to eliminate the frag.
its wings slapping the table
as a breeze passed by. Wanting to fly. (I'd make the period after fly a comma)
Showing its temperament in a rustled tantrum (put in a subject before showing... it shows?)
while I held it down. Tackling corner pages (take out period after down & combine)
still wanting to fight. (make corner pages page corners or just corners?)

A chained slave the paper whimpers (comma after slave)
pleading in ripples upon its fringes.
I drive a spear across its flesh,
my patriot the pen killing sentences.
Submissive ink did as it was told, scrolled,
writing graciously on angry paper.

Overall it is a good poem, Art. I tend to like poems that stick to grammatical construction, so that explains some of my comments. It was a really evocative read though, and I do hope you polish it up. It deserves it. You've put in so much work on it already, and it shows. Good write!

 

[WickedEve]

I just read cherries' comments, so I'll only add this: drop "death grip." I don't think it's needed. You're grasping the page and you're demanding. I think that's enough. Besides, death grip sounds a bit cliche.

I grasped the angry page,
demanding...

 

[wildsweetone]

Such a difference in this poem compared to others you have written Art. Awesome stuff. And also, congratulations on taking the next step and posting one up here for everyone to comment on. Just keep in mind, it's the words of the poem that the comments are about. Anyone who comments on other things is not giving a responsible critique, in my opinion.

Take any of my thoughts and use them, only if they make sense to you. If they don't then you have the option of asking me to explain them better, or simply ignoring them.

And remember, I'm still learning about poetry too, so I make mistakes.




If I ever get to write metaphorically as you have done here, I will pat myself on the back. I mess up my metaphors all over the place and am in awe of this poem for that reason alone.

Having said that, I get the feeling that there are almost too many metaphors. I don't know enough about them to comment specifically, but to me, I wonder if it would improve the writing to choose one metaphor and work with it through the whole poem.

writing graciously on angry paper

Outside, my mind's lips whisper
to fingers graciously gliding over gilded lines.(slight mouthful here - just as an aside, the lines on my paper are green. would 'green' sound better?)
Exhaling passion heavily in earnest(is 'heavily' needed to keep the reading smooth flowing?)
my cursive breath made the paper rise.
I inhaled deeply a hot thought of a summer scent(the word 'summer' indicates to me 'heat'. is 'hot' needed also?)
and the paper died, but its spirit revived
in a gust. That breeze that brings life [b('gust, that' - is that any better?)[/b]
to thoughts.

(will come back and continue the next chance I get.)
I grasped the angry page in a death grip,
demanding it receive thoughts I penned. (receive the thoughts)
Reaching for a draft to strangle hold,
mere dust devils in tornado training.(I can see the two images but don't feel the sentence is a complete thought, what is the 'dust devil'? is it the 'draft'?)
I swirled in the literary sand box of white
building images to be granules
in the wind.

Tattooing saw dust and glue,(sawdust)
branding this albino creature,
its wings slapping the table
as a breeze passed by. Wanting to fly.(i'd change the by. to a by,)
Showing its temperament in a rustled tantrum
while I held it down. Tackling corner pages (again i'd change the . to a ,)
still wanting to fight.

A chained slave the paper whimpers
pleading in ripples upon its fringes.(the paper has a fringe? do you mean edge?)
I drive a spear across its flesh,
my patriot the pen killing sentences.
Submissive ink did as it was told, scrolled,
writing graciously on angry paper.

I

 

[MyNecroticSnail]

writing graciously on angry paper

Outside, my mind's lips whisper
to fingers graciously gliding over gilded lines.
Exhaling passion heavily in earnest
my cursive breath made the paper rise.
I inhaled deeply a hot thought of a summer scent
and the paper died, but its spirit revived
in a gust. That breeze that brings life
to thoughts.

I grasped the angry page in a death grip,
demanding it receive thoughts I penned.
Reaching for a draft to strangle hold,
mere dust devils in tornado training.
I swirled in the literary sand box of white
building images to be granules
in the wind.

Tattooing saw dust and glue,
branding this albino creature,
its wings slapping the table
as a breeze passed by. Wanting to fly.
Showing its temperament in a rustled tantrum
while I held it down. Tackling corner pages
still wanting to fight.

A chained slave the paper whimpers
pleading in ripples upon its fringes.
I drive a spear across its flesh,
my patriot the pen killing sentences.
Submissive ink did as it was told, scrolled,
writing graciously on angry paper.

1.) congradulations - today, you are a man
2.) mentioned earlier I have a problem with "graciously" - explain why? Does not seem to go well with the rest of the poem
3.) These two lines are very good, don't lose them - the images
branding this albino creature,
its wings slapping the table
they fit it very well with "draft" - good play; this is the real beginning of poetry, integration and play with the words. You may want to consider more play with it, less tornado, more "draft" - think about words that serve two purposes. I think "patriot" is a brand name for pens, if so good, but it may be lost.

 

[Recidiva]

"Writing graciously on angry paper" is a whimsically evocative phrase that brought up an intriguing emotional lure and made me want to read more.

Thank you for sharing.

 

[MyNecroticSnail]

4.)"my cursive breath" - good one, work it out.
5.) overall, to make a statement as this seems to make, winning over the paper, requires that it be damn near flawless,(it is not, it shows potential) otherwise it is overblown. Dare I say pompous.
6.) "saw dust" has potential, but where is the rest of the wood?
7.)I agree with C_O_S "to fingers graciously gliding over gilded lines." This feels like too much alliteration. But can you guess what I would toss?