The Clock

[tectak]

Tick! Tick! It clicks. Avoid "it"until you define what "it" is. The indefinite rarely describes...that should go without saying. You are already a victim of style over sense. tick tick it clicks just seems lazy.
Though we hear its chime, "it"is a clock. Say clock. What's wrong with clock? Is this a quiz? Hang on. It clicks,ticks and chimes. Yeh. A clock. Wasn't sure for a while...
we do not always heed the silent advice Nor could we if we wanted to. It is silent. Can I give you some advice worth heeding? OK. Listen up. "......................................". See what I mean. You are talking in riddles and I want a piece of poetry
that time is running out
for us to paint our little pictures
on the canvas of life. Clunky and over extended sentence leading up to an inexplicably disconnected metaphor. The canvas of life.You may as well have said tapestry. Oh.No. That is a cliche.
Let us paint as deftly as we can: What is this. It reads like a North Korean ethics tutor wrote it.
contours designed with vision and worthy aims, ditto. You are preaching to me and I do not like it. If you have a point to make, and I believe you believe you have, then quite apart from the unsuitability of the poetic medium as a soap-box, you must try to be subtle. Who are you to offer up pearls to me? Qualify yourself IN the poem by making me trust you. It may take effort...meter, imagery, original thought...but that is the nature of poetry. Tick tick click and the canvas of life and the silent advice. It is not working
filled with the hues of our talents and creativity, gobbledygook. What the hell is the hue of a talent?
embellished with the sweat of toiling hands, Embellished?I don't think so then cliche.
and scintillating with the colors of virtues
expressed in virtuous deeds. This is just too much verbal excrement.  It is excruciatingly OTT. See end.
In the unfolding beauty of our creations
we too may find
fulfillment and bliss. OK. Come on, fess up. This is a doctrinaire thesis. Dalai Lama? Kim? Mao?
Poetry? No. You may well have burgeoning poetic desire but this is listlessly list-like, preachy, anal, self-aggrandising and lacking in depth. A hotch potch of idealistic adages. You can do much better. Take it apart and get the core metaphor in front of you. Now look at it, naked and bare and clear.  Now dress it from top to bottom...without frills and fringes. Read your own work out loud...to "see" how it "sounds".  You started it. Hue of talent.Sheesh.
Best,
tectak

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