Revised 2: No Tranquility of the Mind

[ClaireLou]

A few more amendments, hopefully getting there now:

I return, senses tingling,
White horses racing through my mind,
Excited,
A child in a sweet shop unable to make a choice,
The silent voice of uncertainty crying out.

The sound of my heart
Beating with no rhythm,
The blank faces in the auditorium looking on
As I try to rescue my drowning dreams
As the screams go unheard, hopes washed away by crashing waves

As there you stand,
Unable to welcome that which you cannot see,
Sunglasses hide your eyes from the moon,
Cotton wool stuffed into your ears so you cannot hear
The truth, a discredited illusion.

A Cannula
Filled with lies injected into your bloodstream,
Necessary pain
That surges through your veins, you are unable to share
As you tear at my flesh with sharpened claws.

Those that try to understand
Your need to hide alongside the Zombie Nation,
The Stepford Wives whose lawns are cut in line
That we need to follow exactly with precision together
As forever you continue to crave this alien community that ceases to care.

Every day 
The school tests are set, paper torn into matching strips, pens lined exactly
As you check off our dedication, red ink generously spread across the page,
Are we even able to achieve the grade or will we simply be set free?
As you see that for now, this place will always be but a building of broken hearts.

You cannot believe
That as each new life is brought into this World we will stand by your side,
That despite the waterfall of uncontrollable emotions that flow
Into the stream of unforgotten expectations,
We know that memories in photographs are not simply a token
Of what should never be broken, they show this family is where you will always belong.

------


New version of work in progress, hope it reads better, it certainly looks different, all comments welcome:

I return,
Dreams of white horses racing through my mind,
Excited,
A child in a sweet shop unable to make a choice,
The silent voice of uncertainty crying out.

The sound of my heart
Beating with no rhythm,
The blank faces in the auditorium looking on
As I try to rescue my drowning dreams,
My screams going unheard, my hopes washed away by the crashing waves

As there you stand,
Unable to welcome that which you cannot see,
Sunglasses hide your eyes from the moon,
Cotton wool stuffed into your ears so you cannot hear
The truth, a discredited illusion.

A Cannula
Filled with lies injected into your bloodstream,
Necessary pain
That surges through your veins, you are unable to share
As you tear at my flesh with sharpened claws.

Those that try to understand
Your need to hide alongside the Zombie Nation,
The Stepford Wives whose lawns are cut in line
That we need to follow exactly with precision together
As forever you continue to crave this alien community that ceases to care.

Every day 
The school tests are set, paper torn into matching strips, pens lined exactly
As you check off our dedication, red ink generously spread across the page,
Are we even able to achieve the grade or will we simply be set free?
As you see that for now, this place will always be but a building of broken hearts.

For you cannot believe
That as each new life is brought into this World we will stand by your side,
That despite the waterfall of uncontrollable emotions that flow
Into the stream of unforgotten expectations,
We know that memories in photographs are not simply a token
Of what should never be broken, they show this family is where you will always belong.

-----


I return
Filled with stories crying out to be told,
Wrapped in excitement,
Smothered in hopes & hundreds of choices,
Of silent voices that need to share this future that could be so bright.
 
Wishing that every new tomorrow,
Every heartbeat, 
Every smile that has yet to be welcomed,
Every unexperienced dream,
Every excited scream will carry us onward & upward into the clouds of tranquility
 
But no
As the negativity drips from your unblocked pores
And the anger simmers underneath the surface,
You continue to struggle to understand the words you hear, 
As you fear that I only wish to dictate the story of this person I want you to become.
 
You believe
That my words spoken with honesty, are a mask for my true implications,
Are intertwined with the lies I attempt to inject into your soul,
That your heart us unable to share, 
Is unable to care that your response will only ever cause anguish & pain.
 
You dont try to understand,
Instead you hide in amongst plain sight, in amongst those that you perceive to be normal
Whilst we battle on,
Fighting to step forth, to stand together
As forever you crave to be a part of a community that no longer cares
 
Every day
You set tests to determine whether or not you remain an object of our affection
Whether you are still important, still needed
Or whether we have reached the point where we will simply set you free
To be that lost soul, in a time where hearts are always broken & nobody tries.

But still
We remain, diligent in our belief that each smile is worth a thousand tears,
That each tear is a memory of something that once was,
And that each memory reminds us that we are strong
We belong, in this unit, this circle of life, this family

[Todd]

Hi Claire,

In basic, we tend to share more overall impressions and less line by line. So my main take away from this poem is that you rely on a lot of abstractions and not a lot of imagery. What that leads to is you could probably perform this well but it won't stick with people and be memorable. I can give specific details if you need them, but I'd encourage you to rethink your approach with this one.

Best,

Todd

[ClaireLou]

Thank you, that will teach me to stray away from the simplistic approach I prefer, back to the drawing board ..... Practice, practice, practice

[ClaireLou]

Hi Claire,

In basic, we tend to share more overall impressions and less line by line. So my main take away from this poem is that you rely on a lot of abstractions and not a lot of imagery. What that leads to is you could probably perform this well but it won't stick with people and be memorable. I can give specific details if you need them, but I'd encourage you to rethink your approach with this one.

Best,

Todd

Is this heading more in the right direction?  

I return,
Surrounded by stories of dreams of white horses,
Wrapped in excitement,
A child in a sweet shop unable to make a choice,
My silent voice of uncertainty crying out to be heard.
 
The sound of my heart
A drum that beats with no rhythm, 
Watched by a thousand blank faces in an auditorium of expectation,   
Where every unanticipated nightmare, every hoped for dream,
Every scream will carry me onward & upward into the clouds of success,
 
But there you stand,
Unable to welcome that which you cannot see,
Sunglasses hide your eyes from the moon,
Cotton wool stuffed into your ears so you cannot hear
The truth, only a dissection of that which you fear is the person I wish you to be.

A Cannula
Filled with lies injected into your bloodstream,
Coursing throughout your veins,
Tearing into your heart that you are unable to share 
You do not care that your response administers only pain to those that love.
 
Those that try to understand
Your need to hide in amongst plain sight, in amongst the day to day zombie nation,
The Stepford wives whose lawns are cut in lines,
That we need to follow exactly with precision together
As forever you continue to crave to be a part of this alien community that ceases to care.
 
Every day
The school tests are set, paper torn into matching strips, pens lined exactly
As you check off our dedication, red ink sparsely spread across the page,
Are we able to achieve the grade or will we simply be set free?
As you see that for now, this place will remain the building of broken hearts,

You cannot believe
That as each new life is welcomed into this World we will stand by your side,
That despite the waterfall of uncontrollable emotions that flow
Into the stream of unforgotten expectations
We know that memories in photographs are no just a token
Of what will never be broken, they show this family, this circle of life will always belong.

[Todd]

Hi Claire, Let me give you some comments though on the new revision.

Is this heading more in the right direction?  --I personally think so, yes. Though that's very subjective. Is the poem accomplishing and communicating more of what you want it to? That's probably the more precise question.

General comment: watch and consider how many times you're using "of" constructions.

I return,
Surrounded by stories of dreams of white horses,--stories OF dreams OF white horses. A bit clunky, especially the first part.
Wrapped in excitement,
A child in a sweet shop unable to make a choice,
My silent voice of uncertainty crying out to be heard.
 
The sound of my heart
A drum that beats with no rhythm,--Consider at times simplifying your constructions (just to illustrate): My heart is a drum that beats with no rhythm. 
Watched by a thousand blank faces in an auditorium of expectation,--Not all of's are bad. This one though is the main problem with the construction. Auditorium OF expectation. You are attaching characteristics that are not necessarily earned. It would be better to build the sense of expectation into the scene than simply tagging it onto a noun.    
Where every unanticipated nightmare, every hoped for dream,
Every scream will carry me onward & upward into the clouds of success,--Again clouds OF success
 
But there you stand,
Unable to welcome that which you cannot see,
Sunglasses hide your eyes from the moon,
Cotton wool stuffed into your ears so you cannot hear
The truth, only a dissection of that which you fear is the person I wish you to be.--wordy

A Cannula--great specific word choice
Filled with lies injected into your bloodstream,
Coursing throughout your veins,--probably unnecessary line bloodstream above gets you there.
Tearing into your heart that you are unable to share 
You do not care that your response administers only pain to those that love.--show don't tell here
 
Those that try to understand
Your need to hide in amongst plain sight, in amongst the day to day zombie nation,--these in amongst are a little tough to read next to each other. The content in this strophe to the end is starting to get much more interesting.
The Stepford wives whose lawns are cut in lines,
That we need to follow exactly with precision together
As forever you continue to crave to be a part of this alien community that ceases to care.
 
Every day
The school tests are set, paper torn into matching strips, pens lined exactly
As you check off our dedication, red ink sparsely spread across the page,
Are we able to achieve the grade or will we simply be set free?
As you see that for now, this place will remain the building of broken hearts,

You cannot believe
That as each new life is welcomed into this World we will stand by your side,
That despite the waterfall of uncontrollable emotions that flow
Into the stream of unforgotten expectations
We know that memories in photographs are no just a token
Of what will never be broken, they show this family, this circle of life will always belong.

I don't want to overwhelm with too many comments in this forum. I hope these help. And again, it's a step forward.

A general convention in the forum is to edit your new versions into the first post and then bump the thread stating you've posted a revision. You can hide your previous versions by using pre verse in brackets. If you'd like to see what it looks like check out one of my recent poem threads and you'll see how the constrution works. It will help people not to accidently comment on earlier versions.

Best,

Todd

[Todd]

Hi Claire,

I like the direction. I'm going to hold back on too many comments to give others a chance to speak to the work.

Just a few things.

New version of work in progress, hope it reads better, it certainly looks different, all comments welcome:

I return, --One thing you could do with this opening line is consider pulling up dreams. Perhaps I return, with dreams
Dreams of white horses racing through my mind,
Excited,
A child in a sweet shop unable to make a choice,
The silent voice of uncertainty crying out.

The sound of my heart
Beating with no rhythm,
The blank faces in the auditorium looking on
As I try to rescue my drowning dreams,--second reference to dreams. Perhaps something else.
My screams going unheard, my hopes washed away by the crashing waves--in the last two lines three repetitions of my. Perhaps take some of those out.

As there you stand,
Unable to welcome that which you cannot see,
Sunglasses hide your eyes from the moon,--really like the ideas in this line.
Cotton wool stuffed into your ears so you cannot hear
The truth, a discredited illusion.

A Cannula
Filled with lies injected into your bloodstream,
Necessary pain
That surges through your veins, you are unable to share
As you tear at my flesh with sharpened claws.

Those that try to understand
Your need to hide alongside the Zombie Nation,
The Stepford Wives whose lawns are cut in line
That we need to follow exactly with precision together
As forever you continue to crave this alien community that ceases to care.

Every day 
The school tests are set, paper torn into matching strips, pens lined exactly
As you check off our dedication, red ink generously spread across the page,
Are we even able to achieve the grade or will we simply be set free?
As you see that for now, this place will always be but a building of broken hearts.

For you cannot believe
That as each new life is brought into this World we will stand by your side,
That despite the waterfall of uncontrollable emotions that flow
Into the stream of unforgotten expectations,
We know that memories in photographs are not simply a token
Of what should never be broken, they show this family is where you will always belong.

I like where you're going, but I recognize that it's always a challenge to do broad edits and retain your original concept. I hope the comments help.

Best,

Todd