(1)
From out of the edgy darkness
the night hurtles toward dawn.
The nail bite moon sharp as scissors
arced and silvered, it clings to the sky.
Memories like limbs flung across my sleeping back.
Transient and fresh, page turned, print already fading.
Once I flew, on a toss of a coin.
Reaching out for something more
than the pinchbeck flecks in your eyes.
The ones that I could have sworn were gold.
A strange siren that doesn't sleep, ricoshayes around my black box room.
Buttons pressed, dual password entry. Voila, lifetime history clears.
Teeth flossed and my garments folded
Daybreak sings my name in rhyme.
The covered windows talk of light.
All nights shadows, now are mine.
(2)
From out of the edgy darkness
the night hurtles toward dawn.
Nail bite moon sharp as scissors
arced and silvered, clings to the sky.
Memories like your heavy limbs
are flung across my sleeping back.
(Green eyes and pinchbeck flecks
ones I could have sworn were gold.)
Transient and fresh, a page turned,
the once black print already fading.
Unwieldy torches packed in boxes
(still running after the bird that flew.)
The siren sings though no one hears it
above the teeming traffic flow.
the night hurtles toward dawn.
The nail bite moon sharp as scissors
arced and silvered, it clings to the sky.
Memories like limbs flung across my sleeping back.
Transient and fresh, page turned, print already fading.
Once I flew, on a toss of a coin.
Reaching out for something more
than the pinchbeck flecks in your eyes.
The ones that I could have sworn were gold.
A strange siren that doesn't sleep, ricoshayes around my black box room.
Buttons pressed, dual password entry. Voila, lifetime history clears.
Teeth flossed and my garments folded
Daybreak sings my name in rhyme.
The covered windows talk of light.
All nights shadows, now are mine.
(2)
From out of the edgy darkness
the night hurtles toward dawn.
Nail bite moon sharp as scissors
arced and silvered, clings to the sky.
Memories like your heavy limbs
are flung across my sleeping back.
(Green eyes and pinchbeck flecks
ones I could have sworn were gold.)
Transient and fresh, a page turned,
the once black print already fading.
Unwieldy torches packed in boxes
(still running after the bird that flew.)
Flossed teeth and garments folded,
buttons pressed in my black box room.
buttons pressed in my black box room.
above the teeming traffic flow.
Written for Wordle 11 at the Sunday Whirl
Oh this caused me problems! I faffed and faffed with it! rewriting certain bits and trying to use all of the words. I decided I had had enough, so pasted my original version into this post and pressed publish... then decided to post my latest edit too.
I am not really happy with either! Perhaps I will rework them sometime. :-)
I am not really happy with either! Perhaps I will rework them sometime. :-)
10 comments:
I think both versions are interesting. The second is tighter, more concise, but both paint a clear picture of the narrator's attempts to move forward with his/her life after the end of a relationship.
I like the both, Susannah. I favor the second more. Nice job.
Pamela
Both pieces are good. They contain a restlessness. I'm always thankful for the dawn that comes from darkness.
I'm with Pamela on this one Susannah. I like them both: the first one drew me in, felt intimate, but the second one flows more readily. I would be hard put to choose between the two. Maybe you should leave them together as a two part piece. The second acting as an echo as distance is accomplished through time.
Elizabeth
I think they're both great, you are being hard on yourself.
I like them both. Don't be so hard on yourself. There is always time for reworking another day....
Thanks all for your kind comments.:-)
I suppose this one just didn't 'flow' which has left me with a dissatisfied feelng. I am sure I have written much worse things and felt much better about them. lol
love both. great imagery
They are both good, but the second reads better aloud.
Isabel, thank you. :-)
Mike, Thank you, I think I agree with you.
Good to see you both.
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