Smelling Books

[ralex003]

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves,
I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others.
Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair.
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor.
My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind.

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages.
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble,
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me.

[Keith]

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves, Nice opening I'm with you and good use of sonics
I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others.
Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair. not sure about dragon's it brings in fantasy
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor. I'm not sure this line is needed as flavour would be a lick
My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind. book scented wind feels a bit clumsy could be smoothed to make the moment more precious

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages.
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble,
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me. I'm up there with you nice closing stanza

I have enjoyed this a lot, I particularly enjoy the way you build the moment, I don't think you need the spoiler at the start most readers enjoy the discovery and I am one of those readers, I have put some comments up for consideration. Best Keith

Ps Great to see you leaving good feedback for others.

[ralex003]

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves, Nice opening I'm with you and good use of sonics
I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others.
Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair. not sure about dragon's it brings in fantasy
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor. I'm not sure this line is needed as flavour would be a lick
My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind. book scented wind feels a bit clumsy could be smoothed to make the moment more precious

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages.
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble,
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me. I'm up there with you nice closing stanza

I have enjoyed this a lot, I particularly enjoy the way you build the moment, I don't think you need the spoiler at the start most readers enjoy the discovery and I am one of those readers, I have put some comments up for consideration. Best Keith

Ps Great to see you leaving good feedback for others.

Yeah, I guess "savor the flavour" doesn't match the act of smelling. It just sounded funny.

Hmmmm titles are so hard. What would you suggest that wouldn't be a spoiler?

[Leanne]

Since you're a full member now, would you like this moved to the main forums? Just pick novice, mild or serious and we'll shift it if you like.

[ralex003]

Since you're a full member now, would you like this moved to the main forums? Just pick novice, mild or serious and we'll shift it if you like.

Okay. I would like it moved to novice. Thanks!

[aerickson]

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves,
I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others.Great line!
Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair.
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor.
My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind.

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages.
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.This seems a bit dramatic since the book is small and you had do dive into the crease to even get the smell.
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble,
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me.

I like the poem up until you dive into the crevice (I like THAT line, though). The poem gets a bit over dramatic, maybe? I would think it would be better to focus on where that smell takes you - for example, maybe that smell takes you back to your first new book for Christmas, or the smell of your father's library or something. Thank you for posting this. I love the smell of books too!

[constellation]

Great poem. Makes me want to go to the closest used bookstore and savor the flavor!This is not considered critique. It is about you, not the poem. Try to give the writer some indication of WHY you like the poem and where it could be improved.
Mod

[Thoughtjotter]

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves,
I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others.
Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair.
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor. a we bit cliche, to the point of lessening the moment

My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind. wonderful imagery

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages. I see virtual virginity
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble,
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me.Fantastic finish

To have the inclination to take a smell, sound, sight or anything you feel, touch or remember and write it into a beautiful expression of words is a true sign (at least to me) of a person with a live poet living with their Soul.
I am no expert but, I believe your soul is not alone.
Any mechanical attention this poem may need will need to come from those with the knowledge to do so, and for sure I will return to learn.
I have read this poem aloud five times. Now I have no doubt what I will be doing on my next visit to a book store.
Just a silly notion of my own but I believe this poem deserves a more fragrant title. something like, Page Garden or The Word Rose, maybe even "Smelling Books" if you prefer!

[billy]

come on guys you can do better than this. why does it make you feel this way. what part of the poem affects you. stop with the one liners. /admin

Great poem. Makes me want to go to the closest used bookstore and savor the flavor!

---

good attempt , some things that might help with an edit. cut down the wordiness. i've gave a few suggestions look at the other lines, can the same be done with them without losing the theme of the poem?

thanks for the read.

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
                Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves, the 2nd part of the sentence feels redundant. a suggestion would be [sheltered in the isle...]
                I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others. [from its cosy nesting place] we can assume the place is full of books, and no need for bad syntax.
                Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair. feels a bit wordy, a suggestion [lost treasure from a dragon's lair] move from simile to out and out metaphor.
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor.
My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind.

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages.
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble,
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me.

[Magpie]

Here's a poem I wrote about smelling books, because I like smelling books. They smell so good.


Smelling Books
Standing in the isle of a book store, sheltered between shelves,--- isle or aisle? "Standing" seems redundant, you could turn the whole line round so it would read "sheltered between shelves in the aisle of a book store"
I slide a slick covered novel from its nesting place cozy among the others.---second part of sentence seems redundant, could end after "nesting place"
Smoothly, it slips into my palms.
I cradle it like a lost treasure in a dragon’s lair.--- "dragon's lair" seems out of place with the rest of the poem, could end it after "treasure" and it doesn't lose anything
Slinking out of the prying eyes of passersby, I stroke the shiny cover--- I like the use of "slinking" here
feeling the raised type of its title beneath my finger tips.--- excellent detail here, "fingertips" should be one word

Slowly, gently, I open the book to its middle and eye the crease
where the pages join in the binding.
Peering in, I hesitate. Not yet, I tell myself.
Savor the flavor. --- this doesn't work well in the sense that it's a smell as opposed to a taste
My thumbs run along the edge of the pages
and flick through them, creating book-scented wind.--- "book-scented wind reads a bit awkward, although I'm lost for any alternative suggestion at the moment

That’s it, I tell myself, practically drooling
all over the unsullied pages.--- "unsullied" is a good word choice along with "slinking" it gives the overall feeling that the "scent" is like a drug to you
It’s time.
Forcing the book open to that middle once again,--- is "Forcing" necessary here, some kind of gentler action would work better I think
I dive into its dark crevice, inhaling deeply.--- I like this line, it adds a slight sexual element to the whole process
The earthy, musty scent washes over my body.--- not sure about a scent that "washes over" especially in context with the next line, for it sounds like the reason for the "goose flesh" is because of the scent washing over your body whereas it's really because of a scent interacting with receptors in your brain
Goose flesh raises the hairs on my arms.--- This line is good detail
Getting my fix of book scent, my knees tremble, --- I like the use of "fix" in this line
a light, floating feeling fills my brain as I leave the ground,
leaving everyone else behind me.--- not sure about this line, firstly because of the repetition of leave/leaving from previous line... Also it's sort of cliche in some respects, at a stretch. Considering the previous line with "leave the ground" you could say something like "leaving everyone else below me"

I really like this poem a lot, you really have managed to capture some excellent sensory details which for me are the essence of this poem. I also like the way that you allude to the "scent" as if it were a drug. I really look forward to reading this again after you have edited it. Thanks for the read.

Mark