12-15-2017, 06:23 AM
It started with dread and finished with embarrassment. -Good beginning, had an "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times" feel to it
There was nothing to blame except the scratchy -I like scratchy sponge because it makes me think more of someone
sponge resting in my skull. perplexed, though I am not sure the enjambment helps
the poem's trickling formation enough to be worth it.
Grace was given and exceptions made, -What Grace? Exceptions? Those are given to submission deadlines?
but there it was, the final hour, -thank goodness it's not the Appointed Time!
and what had been achieved? -makes me think of things unseen, that's good.
The church bells tolled, -I love the sound of church bells(I can hear them on River Street, sometimes).
one after the other.
The cigarette burned, -I hate cigarettes, for many good reasons, so I understand how this is an
down to the stub. unpleasant scene.
Time had
run
out. -the last 5 lines reminded me of a time bomb. You know, the kind in movies
where they use a cigarette burning down, some sort of
guarantee of activation, lighting a wick, or tripping a trigger. Kinda like
what an assassin would do, but we needn't fear even them, if we have trusted
Christ.
interesting and provocative poem.
when I first read the title I was
thinking of a mental ward, not so much
a writer's block.
thanks for the read.
-nibbed <3
There was nothing to blame except the scratchy -I like scratchy sponge because it makes me think more of someone
sponge resting in my skull. perplexed, though I am not sure the enjambment helps
the poem's trickling formation enough to be worth it.
Grace was given and exceptions made, -What Grace? Exceptions? Those are given to submission deadlines?
but there it was, the final hour, -thank goodness it's not the Appointed Time!
and what had been achieved? -makes me think of things unseen, that's good.
The church bells tolled, -I love the sound of church bells(I can hear them on River Street, sometimes).
one after the other.
The cigarette burned, -I hate cigarettes, for many good reasons, so I understand how this is an
down to the stub. unpleasant scene.
Time had
run
out. -the last 5 lines reminded me of a time bomb. You know, the kind in movies
where they use a cigarette burning down, some sort of
guarantee of activation, lighting a wick, or tripping a trigger. Kinda like
what an assassin would do, but we needn't fear even them, if we have trusted
Christ.
interesting and provocative poem.
when I first read the title I was
thinking of a mental ward, not so much
a writer's block.
thanks for the read.
-nibbed <3
there's always a better reason to love