They’re too liberal, allowing thoughts to bleed over the pages and through them, seeping through, staining tables underneath. The inkblots grow, color stains. The paper gives; transparent, a morning after rain.
We should hide our hearts behind more than paper. Maybe that’s just me.
I love this piece a lot but am a bit stuck on the title and what it should be. Could someone help?
ReplyDelete"The paper gives;" is a beautiful sentence. I think this metaphor needs to be played with a little bit more. I really like it. The imagery is beautiful, and I like how the images are juxtaposed with that first very abstract line ("They're too liberal,") Perhaps a title will come out of tinkering around with these images some more. Maybe a little more about the "they" and how the "they" relates to the "me" character, a bit more build to the conflict, something that can be worked out even with such a short length. the metaphor as it is though is lovely.
ReplyDeleteSomething I really like about this poem is the brevity that has but also that a lot occurs in that brevity. The reader gets a lot of images that are very interesting. Though the phrase: “thoughts to bleed over the pages” is a cliché that image is justified with the following image of “staining tables underneath.” This is an extended metaphor that does itself justice. The line break is also interesting here. It is more so such because of how the short prose poem is. I think it would be interesting to see how that would follow through if the poem were a little longer.
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