Like chocolate chips in bread batter
I’m homely with that little something extra.
 
Average height, weight, foot size,
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of cardio,
Satisfactory with attitude!
 
But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.
 
Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, a caustic voice,
That basic dismissal of your natural image,
The choice of how you see yourself.
 
I will never be perfect
With desires more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
Always emotionally charged
To the beat of Energizer Bunny’s drum, I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.
 
I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line
Is a smile, a frown.
 
I do not believe in Photoshop.
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream 
Gym membership be damned!


--
Like chocolate chips in bread batter
I’m homely with that little something extra.
 
Average height, weight, foot size,
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of cardio,
Satisfactory with attitude!
 
But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.
 
Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, caustic voice,
Basic dismissal of your natural image,
Your choice of how you see yourself.
 
I will never be perfect
With desires more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
Always emotionally charged
Like the Energizer Bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.
 
I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line
Is a smile, a frown.
 
I do not believe in Photoshop.
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream
And gym membership be damned!

-----

I believe that I'm ok.
Like chocolate chips in bread batter,
I'm homely with that little extra something.

Average height, weight, foot size.
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of the word diet,
I am a satisfactory version of me.

But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.

Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, the caustic voice,
The basic dismissal
Of your natural image, your choice of how you see yourself.

I know that I will never be perfect
With desires so much more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
I will always be emotionally charged,
The Duracell bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.

I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line,
Is a memory, good & bad.

I do not believe in Photoshop!
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream & make me smile

Good Morning!

(You seem to be more of a morning person than me, at least today with a ~4am post.)

I like the poem, after a first quick read. BUT, one thing jumps out: Duracell doesn't use a bunny in its ads; it's the Energizer bunny.

Will have more feedback after some re-reads.

MJW

Arh a good reason to increase my TV viewing .... or at least my advertisement attention span ..... I shall look forward to your input ..... say whatever you feel, all constructive observations welcome it only helps you to learn Ps I think the clock is wrong on my IPad I was definitely asleep at 4 am!

Hi Claire, some comments for you.

(09-01-2017, 06:08 PM)ClaireLou Wrote:  I believe that I'm ok.--This reads fine but as first lines go it doesn't do much to draw you in. Perhaps a more evocative starting point.
Like chocolate chips in bread batter,--Like this both for content and implication
I'm homely with that little extra something.--extra might be a stronger end word thematically. Maybe try swapping the order "something extra" just a thought. In general, I wonder if this strophe would be better served ending with the I believe that I'm okay and mirroring what you so in S2. Again just thoughts

Average height, weight, foot size.
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of the word diet,--While this is related you're moving away from the exercise question pretty quickly. Might be okay or you may want to rework the driving question.
I am a satisfactory version of me.--You could choose to make these statements go in a direction either getting more resolved on your fine default state or growing more and more uncertain. That might be a structural change if you decide to go that way.

But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along--I like bobbing along playing off your previous line.
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.

Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, the caustic voice,
The basic dismissal
Of your natural image, your choice of how you see yourself.

I know that I will never be perfect
With desires so much more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
I will always be emotionally charged,
The Duracell bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.

I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,--like this, for its doughy sense and its echo from line 2
Each crazy paved line,
Is a memory, good & bad.--something a little less generic

I do not believe in Photoshop!
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream & make me smile--like the specificity of the dessert. I'd consider some closing line that gives a sense of closure back to the opening or the title though.

I hope some of that is helpful.

Best,

Todd

Hi Claire. rarely do poems about self, imaginary or otherwise, work well. it is a bit show and tell though you do have some imagery. nonetheless it really works well. the attitude comes through as does the emotional hurt of the eight words. a suggestion would be to edit out some of the smaller words that add little or nothing,

(09-01-2017, 06:08 PM)ClaireLou Wrote:  I believe that I'm ok.
Like chocolate chips in bread batter, would this be a better opening line?
I'm homely with that little extra something.

Average height, weight, foot size.
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of the word diet,
I am a satisfactory version of me.

But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words. nice tie in to the title.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small are these the lies we tell ourselves?
But still deception nonetheless.

Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, the caustic voice,
The basic dismissal
Of your natural image, your choice of how you see yourself.

I know that I will never be perfect
With desires so much more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
I will always be emotionally charged,
The Duracell bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.

I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line,
Is a memory, good & bad.

I do not believe in Photoshop!
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream & make me smile

Thank you. I've amended it slightly to try & fit in all suggestions which are always appreciated.

My general style is to write as if its about myself although I have to admit it isn't necessarily I just don't know how to get out of the habit! Once I've improved perhaps I should consider trying something new, may take a while

Ps Yes the lies are those we tell ourselves, in my case, no Claire you don't each too much chocolate

I think it's improved. A few more points to consider.

(09-01-2017, 06:08 PM)ClaireLou Wrote:  Like chocolate chips in bread batter
I’m homely with that little something extra.
 
Average height, weight, foot size,
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of cardio,--good improvement
Satisfactory with attitude!
 
But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.
 
Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, caustic voice,
Basic dismissal of your natural image,
Your choice of how you see yourself.-- a lot of you/yours here. How about replacing you with to.
 
I will never be perfect
With desires more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
Always emotionally charged
Like the Energizer Bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope--instead of hyper-mode how about incorporating more senses by using the drum that bunny beats on as it moves. Maybe incorporate more of the image you started and play with it some.
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.
 
I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line
Is a smile, a frown.
 
I do not believe in Photoshop.
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream
And gym membership be damned!--Nice tie back to the title.

-----

Oh, and to your comment below. There is an entire school of confessional poetry. There is nothing wrong with using that as a starting point for your poems. Experiment all you like, but again there's nothing wrong with confessional poetry.

Best,

Todd

any poetry done well is well done poetry. while this is confessional it better than most and not full of cliche woe is me stuff.

Hi, this is so relatable. A few thoughts below...


I believe that I'm ok. 
Like chocolate chips in bread batter, - wondering if you could start the poem with this line? It would link with the end of the poem. 
I'm homely with that little extra something. - "little extra something" could mean: special/sparkle 

Average height, weight, foot size. - N.B weight is not over-average 
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of the word diet, - glasses  mist over while running.
I am a satisfactory version of me.

But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception, - now we start peeling off layers 
Unwanted but present, bobbing along - "bobbing along" reference to  running
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.

Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool, 
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness, - lovely sugary food reference
Masking the bitter pill, the caustic voice, - ouch re 8 words 
The basic dismissal - 
Of your natural image, your choice of how you see yourself. 

I know that I will never be perfect
With desires so much more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
I will always be emotionally charged,
The Duracell bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.

I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin, - dough reference
Each crazy paved line,
Is a memory, good & bad. - maybe  "good and bad" are not necessary here and could be cut.

I do not believe in Photoshop!
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake - YES!
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream & make me smile - :-)

looking better, great opener. i think it still needs a small edit or two but much better so far.

(09-01-2017, 06:08 PM)ClaireLou Wrote:  Like chocolate chips in bread batter
I’m homely with that little something extra. yummy start straight away we want to see like what.
 
Average height, weight, foot size,
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of cardio, cardio is much stronger
Satisfactory with attitude!
 
But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.
 
Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, caustic voice, this line and next feels a little clunky as though it's missing something? maybe a 'that' and an 'a' before dismissal?
Basic dismissal of your natural image,
Your choice of how you see yourself. just 1 You maybe start the line with 'the' or something else.
 
I will never be perfect
With desires more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
Always emotionally charged
Like the Energizer Bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.
 
I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line
Is a smile, a frown.
 
I do not believe in Photoshop.
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream
And gym membership be damned! no real need for 'and'

-----

I believe that I'm ok.
Like chocolate chips in bread batter,
I'm homely with that little extra something.

Average height, weight, foot size.
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of the word diet,
I am a satisfactory version of me.

But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.

Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, the caustic voice,
The basic dismissal
Of your natural image, your choice of how you see yourself.

I know that I will never be perfect
With desires so much more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
I will always be emotionally charged,
The Duracell bunny stuck in hyper-mode, but I have hope
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.

I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line,
Is a memory, good & bad.

I do not believe in Photoshop!
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream & make me smile

Yay, more suggestions, fingers crossed we're getting closer, thank you all for your comments, it is always appreciated.

Energizer and duracell both have used bunnies in their adds, it was a wierd thing with copyright. I remember seeing somethign abou this on QI https://www.theguardian.com/business/201...lawsuit-us
Anyway, I like the poem, it's got a good flow. talk about whichever bunnies you like

Hi ClaireLou. I love the lovely honesty of your poem. I like how it makes me feel safe and I don't have to worry the next line may have me hiding under the sofa in despair. You are sunshine peeping through puffs of my own darkened clouds. Hope, I guess I should say. Lovely write. I do wish the title had been boldly placed above the piece, it was partially hidden in a ribbon above. Thank you for this write and such kind honesty.


Like chocolate chips in bread batter
I’m homely with that little something extra.                                             I love this so much.
 
Average height, weight, foot size,
My glasses mist over at the mere mention of cardio,                                yeah, I get heated at this, too, hahahaha
Satisfactory with attitude!                                     
 
But, someone always needs to introduce those eight little words.
Eight words drifting in a polluted sea of misconception,
Unwanted but present, bobbing along
In between the lies, small
But still deception nonetheless.
 
Surely they should be wrapped in cotton wool,
Coated in Candy Floss to add to their sweetness,
Masking the bitter pill, a caustic voice,
That basic dismissal of your natural image,
The choice of how you see yourself.                                                            
 
I will never be perfect
With desires more than a selfie stick & millionaire status,
Always emotionally charged
To the beat of Energizer Bunny’s drum, I have hope                               
In each photographic image, I can cope with the inflections.                    
 
I know that each roll of softly kneaded skin,
Each crazy paved line
Is a smile, a frown.
 
I do not believe in Photoshop.
So pass me the chocolate fudge cake
With a double scoop of salted caramel ice cream 
Gym membership be damned!                                                 hahaha, okay, this L says much, indeed!

Thank you Troubadour/Nibbed for you kind words, I'm very pleased how the poem has turned out to be honest, everyone's help/advice has been invaluable