Awesome, thanks alot for your feedback and I’m glad you loved it.
Cheers,
Amy
All these years with an empty canvas
I paint the solitude of my thoughts,
Smudge the black into my portriat
and smother my eyes with duct tape.
Til my portriat is no longer a canvas,
but a walking STOP sign desperate to move.
Take the brush, and paint my mind carefully
before I turn your dreams into smoke,
and your ashes into bones.
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good poem. abstract. Got me back in the lab.
Wow, It was mind boggling and you the author or artist or whatever you are trying to portray is amazing. Its almmost like you are painting with your words, like you have no paint. This poem definently made me think a lot about writing and art in general and how words can mean so many different things in so many different types of context. I think you can really expand on this poemand the ideas you are trying to convey within it. ALso I am not sure but when I read this poem aloud something about the scheme seemed off it may be because of the different number of lines in both stanzas or because only the last two lines rhyme. Again awesome peice I loved it
I loved the closing line. I feel almost a rejuvinated feeling when I’m done reading it. Good job.
:)
Wow!!!! This is the work of a master! ” ...your dreams into smoke, and your ashes into bones.”!
This is the kind of creativity that I long for!
Job well done!
L1 and L2 – Excellent verse, expressive and lyrical
L3 – I’d replace ‘smudge’ with ‘brush’ or something that gives the impression of tool use. Smudge made me thing of finger painting while the first two lines made me thing of brush strokes.
L4 – ‘smother’ is too similar to ‘smudge’ and breaks the rythym. I’d look for a different sounding word.. perhaps ‘blind’ or ‘deaden’
L7 to L9 – you return to beautiful verse here again. I’d look closely at L3 to L6 and try to capture that same sense of polish.
i like it alot its beautiful
I was enjoying this up to the first two lines of he second stanza. They feel as though they are a part of the last lines of the first stanza but by separating them the flow is lost.
The metaphor and imagery is good but, for me at least, let down by the interruption. Sorry.
I really like the use of some of your words. For me, using words such as “black” and “smoke” and “ashes” in poetry is moving, almost strong in a sense. It makes me think about sitting up in a loft overlooking the city, down at the people who are no more than a speck of color moving every which way. Almost as if I am sitting still while the entire world moves around me. Good job!
i definetly could feel this poem, almost reminds me of the times when i can’t get my creative energy out onto canvas but i desperatly need that release. dreams into smoke and ashes into bones… taking something intangible and turning into something tangible..like turning your imaginationinto reality…i like it…
Your word choice in line four made me stumble. “smother” with eyes was confusing and I had to stop and re-read it. Also the soft sound of “smother” wasn’t an easy match with the hard sounds (and images) of “duct tape”. I’d like to have heard more, too. Short can be blunt, but it can also be just short. Don’t stop, keep going.
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