08-16-2018, 08:30 AM
Perplexed
trying to connect
strands together
into something
considered to
be beautiful.
Your first stanza, with its first word, announces your confusion, and the possibility of mixed metaphors, or aborted attempts. . . . You could start another poem, or you could get to the mixed point of this one.
Attempting
to spin words
into a pretty
sweater
which I can wear
when it gets cold.
You're still carrying the thread, weaving towards a start.
I put myself in mind
of a car missing wheels;
engine revving loudly
Shifting many gears
Here's where I assume you've consciously broken the thread and changed gears. The first line here can be read two ways. Or maybe three. And I assume that was your intention.
But always staying
stuck in one place
rusted to the spot
crying oil, in leiu
of my tears.
The last three lines, really, could be changed and fix the whole thing.
trying to connect
strands together
into something
considered to
be beautiful.
Your first stanza, with its first word, announces your confusion, and the possibility of mixed metaphors, or aborted attempts. . . . You could start another poem, or you could get to the mixed point of this one.
Attempting
to spin words
into a pretty
sweater
which I can wear
when it gets cold.
You're still carrying the thread, weaving towards a start.
I put myself in mind
of a car missing wheels;
engine revving loudly
Shifting many gears
Here's where I assume you've consciously broken the thread and changed gears. The first line here can be read two ways. Or maybe three. And I assume that was your intention.
But always staying
stuck in one place
rusted to the spot
crying oil, in leiu
of my tears.
The last three lines, really, could be changed and fix the whole thing.