Wayward

[nikkisto]

The route, painstakingly penned from my own hand,
stalls before me now, lost to the humors of fate.
Once crisp and clear, it is given way.
It looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me.

Yet in it I have found a space.
I am free to inhale its milky breath,
the heaviness of it weighing on my lungs.
I wait for consciousness to fade, to absorb into the gray.

But it does not. It will not.
Instead of screaming to leave, I am drawn to stay.
My self is speaking now and it is not afraid,
it has uncovered an engaging apathy.

I will take it up, this fog.
I will let it lay in my hair, against my skin.
I will soften my edges until it pours into me.
There is no need to flow forward, to push on.

I am here, in this mist,
and I am brighter than I have ever been.

[Erthona]

The route, painstakingly penned from my own hand,
stalls before me now, lost to the humors of fate.
Once crisp and clear, it is given way. (What is "it"? Beginning with an undefined abstraction "the route" (one assumes) it is unclear if the "it referenced in the next two line refers to "the route" or to some other undefined abstraction)
It looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me.

(If one substitutes "the route" for it the stanza reads:

The route, painstakingly penned from my own hand,

stalls before me now, lost to the humors of fate.
Once crisp and clear, the route is given way.
The route looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me.

So it the "it" is the route the section reads as somewhat senseless, or at least lacking in information. If the "it" refers to something else, the reader is left to guess without any help from the writing , what "it" is. )

Yet in it I have found a space.
I am free to inhale its milky breath,
the heaviness of it weighing on my lungs.
I wait for consciousness to fade, to absorb into the gray.

But it does not. It will not.
Instead of screaming to leave, I am drawn to stay.
My self is speaking now and it is not afraid,
it has uncovered an engaging apathy.

I will take it up, this fog.
I will let it lay in my hair, against my skin.
I will soften my edges until it pours into me.
There is no need to flow forward, to push on.

I am here, in this mist,
and I am brighter than I have ever been.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Often new writers fall into the trap of thinking (unconsciously so) that the reader knows what is in the writer's mind, when this is obviously not the case. This seems as that may be the case here.

One of the major failings of this poem is it begins as an undefined abstraction and continues as such. The main character appears to be this amorphous "it". In the beginning it appeared that "it" might be "the route", but substituting "the route" for "it" made little sense. Latter "it" appeared to be the speaker,

"My self is speaking now and it is not afraid"

Yet, latter this is disproved as " it pours into me" and if "it" is the speaker's self, the self cannot pour into the self.

Persevering we finally find out what "it" is. "it" which was once a " crisp and clear" "it", now is a "mist, an entity". Yet this is written so clumsily that it is not until later that one can piece it together.

"It looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me."

Note: It does not say it is mist, which one can conclude by the end of the poem (more on that later), but vapor and mist are written as though they are aspects of "it", yet later on we find that "it" is a fog, or a mist.

"I will take it up, this fog."
"I am here, in this mist"

OK, so now we have identified the mysterious "it". "It" is "mist".

What do we know about this mist? The only thing we really know is that it makes the speaker "brighter than" he "has ever been." Which may in fact be the case, but it leaves the reader in the dark.

The only time when "mist" and "it" are not interchangeable is the following passage:

"But it does not. It will not.
Instead of screaming to leave, I am drawn to stay.
My self is speaking now and it is not afraid,
it has uncovered an engaging apathy."

"mist is not afraid?"  A little shaky there, so "mist" is probably not it in this passage.

So here is the problem. "It" as has been bolded throughout the poem, does not seem attached to any one thing, yet neither is it ever defined, either particularly in a line (besides being mist), or in general throughout the poem.

If "it" is the primary character and as it is referenced 12 times one must assume it is and yet remains mostly undefined and even when it is defined "mist" it is closer to an attribute than a thing, it conveys little to nothing to the reader. Something like the following passage.

She was there, but sometimes not,
a wondrous wonder of serendipity,
floating and falling, all the time
coming closer to brush against me
leaving me fuller than I had ever been.

In the future, try letting a piece set for a few weeks without referring to it, then look it over and see if it makes sense (this helps to clear out all of those assumptions that are unconsciously in your head). In the beginning when I did this I needed to wait a month, but hopefully you are brighter than I am.

Best,

dale

[nikkisto]

The route, painstakingly penned from my own hand,
stalls before me now, lost to the humors of fate.
Once crisp and clear, it is given way. (What is "it"? Beginning with an undefined abstraction "the route" (one assumes) it is unclear if the "it referenced in the next two line refers to "the route" or to some other undefined abstraction)
It looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me.

(If one substitutes "the route" for it the stanza reads:

The route, painstakingly penned from my own hand,

stalls before me now, lost to the humors of fate.
Once crisp and clear, the route is given way.
The route looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me.

So if the "it" is the route the section reads as somewhat senseless, or at least lacking in information. If the "it" refers to something else, the reader is left to guess without any help from the writing , what "it" is. )

Yet in it I have found a space.
I am free to inhale its milky breath,
the heaviness of it weighing on my lungs.
I wait for consciousness to fade, to absorb into the gray.

But it does not. It will not.
Instead of screaming to leave, I am drawn to stay.
My self is speaking now and it is not afraid,
it has uncovered an engaging apathy.

I will take it up, this fog.
I will let it lay in my hair, against my skin.
I will soften my edges until it pours into me.
There is no need to flow forward, to push on.

I am here, in this mist,
and I am brighter than I have ever been.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Often new writers fall into the trap of thinking (unconsciously so) that the reader knows what is in the writer's mind, when this is obviously not the case. This seems as that may be the case here.

One of the major failings of this poem is it begins as an undefined abstraction and continues as such. The main character appears to be this amorphous "it". In the beginning it appeared that "it" might be "the route", but substituting "the route" for "it" made little sense. Latter "it" appeared to be the speaker,

"My self is speaking now and it is not afraid"

Yet, latter this is disproved as " it pours into me" and if "it" is the speaker's self, the self cannot pour into the self.

Persevering we finally find out what "it" is. "it" which was once a " crisp and clear" "it", now is a "mist, an entity". Yet this is written so clumsily that it is not until later that one can piece it together.

"It looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me."

Note: It does not say it is mist, which one can conclude by the end of the poem (more on that later), but vapor and mist are written as though they are aspects of "it", yet later on we find that "it" is a fog, or a mist.

"I will take it up, this fog."
"I am here, in this mist"

OK, so now we have identified the mysterious "it". "It" is "mist".

What do we know about this mist? The only thing we really know is that it makes the speaker "brighter than" he "has ever been." Which may in fact be the case, but it leaves the reader in the dark.

The only time when "mist" and "it" are not interchangeable is the following passage:

"But it does not. It will not.
Instead of screaming to leave, I am drawn to stay.
My self is speaking now and it is not afraid,
it has uncovered an engaging apathy."

"mist is not afraid?"  A little shaky there, so "mist" is probably not it in this passage.

So here is the problem. "It" as has been bolded throughout the poem, does not seem attached to any one thing, yet neither is it ever defined, either particularly in a line (besides being mist), or in general throughout the poem.

If "it" is the primary character and as it is referenced 12 times one must assume it is and yet remains mostly undefined and even when it is defined "mist" it is closer to an attribute than a thing, it conveys little to nothing to the reader. Something like the following passage.

She was there, but sometimes not,
a wondrous wonder of serendipity,
floating and falling, all the time
coming closer to brush against me
leaving me fuller than I had ever been.

In the future, try letting a piece set for a few weeks without referring to it, then look it over and see if it makes sense (this helps to clear out all of those assumptions that are unconsciously in your head). In the beginning when I did this I needed to wait a month, but hopefully you are brighter than I am.

Best,

dale

Hi Dale, thanks for the feedback! I have to admit I was bracing myself for disaster when I saw you were the first response. I was ready to tuck tail and run back to the novice forum   But I have survived relatively unscathed and with a load of work to do, which I appreciate. What I was trying to convey in this is the freedom that one can find when once carefully laid and predetermined plans give way. To go from having a singular focus on a very clear goal ahead to just existing in a much less solid present. Having the best laid plans flicked away by reality can lead to falling apart, or can find a person embracing the uncertainty and finding a more authentic self. But if I have to lay it out, I have failed in what I was aiming for. 

I did not even see the crazy number of times 'it' was used throughout this, and I definitely fell into the trap of assuming connections that were clear to me would be clear to the reader. I will work on clarification. Despite a very pressing urge to immediately go back and revise, I will try and leave it for a bit as you recommend. But I make no promises...

[Achebe]

The route, painstakingly penned from my own hand, ....'penned by' sounds more appropriate. 'Painstakingly penned' sounds terrible. why not just 'mapped by my own hand'? If you say 'penned', then the 'route' refers to a map of the route. The next line doesn't make sense after that.
stalls before me now, lost to the humors of fate. ...see above for 'map stalling'. what are the 'humours of fate'? are you referring to the Aristotelian humors of choler / melancholy / bile etc.? Or is it just fate being humorous? Sounds like a malapropism to me.
Once crisp and clear, it is given way. ...'crisp and clear' is cliched.
It looms, all vapor and mist, an entity in itself before me. ...dale has already touched upon 'too many Its'. The route is an entity? Meaning that it has a defined, independent, existence? isn't that always the case? Or do you mean a living entity? 

Yet in it I have found a space.  
I am free to inhale its milky breath,  
the heaviness of it weighing on my lungs.
I wait for consciousness to fade, to absorb into the gray. is it milky, or gray?

But it does not. It will not.
Instead of screaming to leave, I am drawn to stay. Why would you scream to leave? you're just standing in the mist. You have, in fact, found in the mist-beast's entrails a "space". The 'instead' is out of place.
My self is speaking now and it is not afraid, your 'self' is you, isn't it? why even mention it? unless your 'self' is some sort of inner consciousness that is saying things that you normally wouldn't - but nothing in the rest of the poem suggests anything like that.
it has uncovered an engaging apathy.

I will take it up, this fog.
I will let it lay in my hair, against my skin.
I will soften my edges until it pours into me.
There is no need to flow forward, to push on.

I am here, in this mist,
and I am brighter than I have ever been. Why? what has the mist done to you? If you had a mystical experience standing in the mist, then that could be the key point of the poem. As it stands, I am not sure why an everyday experience has made you brighter than ever before, and now I want my money back.

[nikkisto]

I appreciate the feedback Achebe, all valid and to the point. I knew when posting that this wasn't where I wanted it to be, but I didn't know where to take it. You've helped with that. As for refund, a self addressed stamp envelope to Disappointing Newbie Posts c/o The Pig Pen...I'm sure the Mods wouldn't mind (Please read this with the complete sarcasm intended, thank you for commenting ) now I'm off to google malapropism...