Ink Stained Mindset

[Mungo man]

Edit 5 *legitimately thoughtful edit*
The cool touch of brick
rubs against his tattered frock
from behind as he tries to cry.

Tears fall from his fingertips
when he takes them from his face.
Miniature rivulets of regret
that flow from this alleyway.

Always with the same pen, he
sketches words and scenes
onto coarse sheets
of cheap parchment.

When he’s done with one idea,
it’s a race to chase another.
His life; A crushing race against
a falling sky. He looks for light
in an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.

A forlorn artist with nothing to say.

/edit 5

I deleted two of the edits, for they were foolish edits indeed.

Edit 4 *thoughtful edit* (is this better or worse than the original?)

Ink black and pen chosen
to sketch words and scenes
onto coarse sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A forlorn artist with nothing to say.

An idea lost in translation,
It's slipping from his feeble grasp.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his shaking hands
never wrote anything new.




Original:
Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new....

[Polar Bear]

Hi there!

For me, there is something lost by using the overused terms "lost in translation" and "starving artist." Are there not other, more unique ways of illustrating your scene?

Also, the first stanza and the latter stanzas seem starkly different in setting. I'd consider perhaps switching S2 and S1; it seemed shocking to me that the subject all the sudden was in an alleyway after digesting S1.

Thanks you for sharing, and I resonate with the emotional tone and content.

Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.

[Mitya]

This is really good, Mungo Man. The three stanzas act like specific details in a well painted scene. Together, they work together to portray the frigid desperation of your 'starving artist'. You use imagery crisply and concisely, such that I could almost see the breath of the narrator as he speaks. I also much enjoyed the metaphor of 'an idea lost in translation'.

On its own, that phrase might have been cliche. But if fits superbly into the sense of the poem.

The first stanza has a bit of a stumble in the third line. 'onto temporary sheets' is off by one beat as I read it aloud. You might think about just replacing those two lines with 'onto cheap parchment'. Also, the first line works well as an introduction. I think, however, that it is too easy for the reader to skim past it too quickly.

This may be because of the parrallel structures of 'Ink Black' and 'Pen Posed'. You might add commas between Ink & Black, and Pen & Posed, so as to slow down the reader. This would reinforce the images of Ink and Pen poised over a sheet of paper, as well.

[Mungo man]

Thank you all for your suggestions and I uh... Wow I'm glad you guys liked it. Haha, really this is all great stuff to take into consideration.

I'll post an edit tomorrow, and when I'm not quite so... Tired, yeah, I'll critique some more stuff as I've finally got time. No uni for 8 days and I can relax; it's finally time to see what I can do *cracks knuckles, dips pen* *laughs as he realizes that he owns no such quill*

*scuttles out of the room* Have a good night all of you

[wowalexan]

Edit 3: *another posibility*[/b]
Ink black, and pen posed
to etch words and scenes-you can say to etch words and sketch scenes to add so rhyme schemes
onto cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new

Edit 2: (*these are my considered changes*)

Ink black, and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new




[b] Edit 1: Reversed s1 and s2

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.





Original:
Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.

your poem gives so much to see in my mind its very nice to see imagery and rhymes combined[/b]

[Mattisimo]

I think its rather beautiful. More than not when i come to write i seem to be in that place you are describing.. yet there is something beautiful in describing its despair. An energy that i beleive most artists can identify with. As a poets expression is his sanctuary. When there is not a story to be told therein lies a story..

[Mungo man]

Thank you all for your compliments. Which are your favorite edits?

[tectak]

Edit 3: *another posibility*[/b]
Ink black, and pen posedMake sure of your word choice...do you mean "pen poised"?
to etch words and scenes
onto cheap parchment.Similarly. Etching on to parchment is an unlikely pastime...and cheap parchment just would not take the process at all;certainly not with a pen! You may etch in to wood, stone, leather, potatoes and PRINT from the etching...but parchment?

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.a worthy stanza but "staring" is weak and meaningless in the context.

It's slipping away, off the page,Beware it! It is non-definite and begs a question....what is it? L2 should be L1 to stand a chance
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed handsDon't make word uses up. Though "benumbed" exists this beuseless technique beconfounds your readers and bemuses those who KNOW their words.. What is wrong with NUMBED HANDS?
never wrote anything new
[/b]Hello,
You have a concept here which is worth developing. Try to write what you FEEL not what you want your reader to be impressed by. Apart from the interesting fact that you will find that this is easier (NUMBED instead of BENUMBED) it is more likely that your concept will become prominent rather than your construct...and when you begin writing poetry that is important. Keep it simple, keep it clear, keep it within your grasp. You are in charge of the words.....not the other way round. Even your Muse will leave the poetry to you.
Best,
tectak[b]

Edit 2: (*these are my considered changes*)

Ink black, and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new




[b] Edit 1: Reversed s1 and s2

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.





Original:
Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.

---

Edit 3: *another posibility*[/b]
Ink black, and pen posedMake sure of your word choice...do you mean "pen poised"?
to etch words and scenes
onto cheap parchment.Similarly. Etching on to parchment is an unlikely pastime...and cheap parchment just would not take the process at all;certainly not with a pen! You may etch in to wood, stone, leather, potatoes and PRINT from the etching...but parchment?

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.a worthy stanza but "staring" is weak and meaningless in the context.

It's slipping away, off the page,Beware it! It is non-definite and begs a question....what is it? L2 should be L1 to stand a chance
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed handsDon't make word uses up.Though "benumbed" exists this beuseless technique beconfounds your readers and bemuses those who KNOW their words.. What is wrong with NUMBED HANDS?
never wrote anything new
Hello,
You have a concept here which is worth developing. Try to write what you FEEL not what you want your reader to be impressed by. Apart from the interesting fact that you will find that this is easier (NUMBED instead of BENUMBED) it is more likely that your concept will become prominent rather than your construct...and when you begin writing poetry that is important. Keep it simple, keep it clear, keep it within your grasp. You are in charge of the words.....not the other way round. Even your Muse will leave the poetry to you.
Best,
tectak[b]

Edit 2: (*these are my considered changes*)

Ink black, and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new




[b] Edit 1: Reversed s1 and s2

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.





Original:
Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.

[Mungo man]

Excellent feedback tectalk, thank you

[tectak]

Excellent feedback tectalk, thank you

Good egg,
Now work on the edit. It could be a good read.
Best,
tectak

[Mungo man]

I spent some time on it and made my first real edit. I like the changes that I've made, but I fear I have given the rhythm a stumbling quality, aside from the cold, crisp meter I had initially tried to convey. Anybody have any opinions on it?

[Speaktaboo]

I feel like you're describing me at some points of this poem. The theme is perfect, maybe a little over emphasized but that's not necessarily a bad thing with this topic. Great read. I'm new here and I was wondering if the whole revision with. Original is how you guys do it here. It was a little much to read over and over. I liked the original the best. The gut makes perfect mistakes!

[tectak]

Edit 4 *thoughtful edit* (is this better or worse than the original?)

Ink black and pen chosen
to sketch words and scenes
onto coarse sheets
of cheap parchment.Much better but to open with a non-sentence is a little worrying. Your poem

In an alleyway with no shoes,You say you shot an elephant in your pyjamas? This is a school boy howler. Alleyways don't wear shoes.
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.Again, the punctuation needs to be "complete". You are using a clipped technique that is not wise. You have two clauses here that are neither complete sentences nor do they bond together with the prit-stick of punctuation. The rewrite of this stanza should be easy and I know you can do it.
A forlorn artist with nothing to say.

An idea lost in translation,I am afraid this is a cliche and you could do better. However, see later.
It's slipping from his feeble grasp."It" is not a definitive word. Drop "it". "An idea lost in translation is slipping from his feeble grasp."
A pen that never stopped moving
in his shaking hands
never wrote anything new.You have good thoughts. This is a good stanza.
The syntax is just this side of bizarre. Am I saying the same thing? Your poem but:
"The pen that never stopped moving
flutters in his shaking hands.
Translated thoughts are old cul de sacs
where meaning slips from his feeble grasp;
he never wrote anything new."

I said I would come back to this. You are making progress steadily. All you need to do now is tell me my suggestions are rubbish but then write your own improvements. I get the feeling you know exactly how to do this.
Best,
tectak







Edit 3: *another posibility*[/b]
Ink black, and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new

Edit 2: (*these are my considered changes*)

Ink black, and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A staring artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new




Edit 1: Reversed s1 and s2

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new.





Original:
Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new....

[ruagun]

Very good poem
what makes it stand it
is the fact I can picture a homeless guy right now in my head



Great poem

[tectak]

Edit 5 *legitimately thoughtful edit*
The cool touch of brick
rubs against his tattered frock
from behind as he tries to cry.You still make awkward links. The simultaneity of the "as" word implies a connection that does not exist. His crying is not caused by or dependent upon the touch of brick. Leave out the "from behind as" . Semi colon after "frock"

Tears fall from his fingertips
when he takes them from his face. ...and again with "when". Do the tears stop falling from his fingertips if he puts them back to his face? No. So lose the "when" and restructure the sentence.
He takes his hands from his face;
tears fall(ing) from his fingertips
in rivulets of regret that flow
out from the sobbing alleyway......or something. Your poem

Miniature rivulets of regret A rivulet is already miniature. Over modified . Wasteful.
that flow from this alleyway. Which/what alleyway?

Always with the same pen, he why break the line here? You have no meter or rhyme to concern you. Feel the rhythm. So:
Always with the same pen,
he sketches words an scenes
on to parchment,
coarse and cheap.....

sketches words and scenes
onto coarse sheets
of cheap parchment.

When he’s done with one idea, Link these two lines. Being "done" is not the gun to start a race. So:
When he has captured one idea
the race to catch the next begins....make EVERY word count...and always read your stuff out loud. HEAR the words. Hear the flow
it’s a race to chase another.
His life; A crushing race against Now it is your turn.Do NOT use "race" again. Avoid duplicated words. There is a very nice line here, but you must find it.
a falling sky. He looks for light
in an alleyway with no shoes, AN ALLEYWAY DOES NOT WEAR SHOES! Aaaaarrrrgggghhh! Avoid this urchin alleyway (repeat) at all costs. Say something else.
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.

A forlorn artist with nothing to say.

You make fundamental errors but you have a good inner eye.... try using the other two. You miss your mistakes because you read without looking. Get the feelings on to paper but then link, join, meld and connect them with the glue of grammar. There is a worthwhile poem here.
Best,
tectak

/edit 5

I deleted two of the edits, for they were foolish edits indeed.

Edit 4 *thoughtful edit* (is this better or worse than the original?)

Ink black and pen chosen
to sketch words and scenes
onto coarse sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A forlorn artist with nothing to say.

An idea lost in translation,
It's slipping from his feeble grasp.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his shaking hands
never wrote anything new.




Original:
Ink black and pen posed
to etch words and scenes
onto temporary sheets
of cheap parchment.

In an alleyway with no shoes,
toes frozen and poking through
socks that frayed last year.
A starving artist with nothing to say.

It's slipping away, off the page,
an idea lost in translation.
A pen that never stopped moving
in his benumbed hands
never wrote anything new....

[Mungo man]

Wow! I can't believe so many people replied to this! You've all been a ton of help. Many of yours' comments has been very encouraging these past few weeks. It has always been something to fall back on when my studies kept me from feeling the poetry. I gave it some time and spent a while in consideration of this 5th edit. I feel as though I have missed a few things yet.
Ah, yes. I need to replace a semi colon with a question mark and fix a syntactical error (or two ;-) ).

Thanks again for the feedback tectak! Along with mitya, polar bear, and all the rest. To the guy who felt like this spoke to him: I'm glad I could help someone make that connection. It's humbling to know that people think about my writing *gulp*

But I have fun doing it, and helping others see there way whenever I can


on with the poetry!


p.s. Since I've only posted like 9 critiques, should I wait to post a third poem in a different subforum? Or should I give this poem another run through and repost it in an "upper subforum"?

Passionately curious,
-M.m.


edit: I posted this before I had read tectak's excellent feedback. It is oh so very much appreciated. And humbling. I see that I need to work on this before I move on to bigger and better things.