Very interesting advice, thank you.
Poetry / Old Wood for New Fire
The song of steel crashing down on steel
Clangs and rings on the mountainside
As the sledge is repeatedly brought down
Driving the wedge deeper in, deeper . . . .
With a loud crack, the round begins to split;
Under the heavy work of sledgehammer and muscle
The old image is being divided, broken down,
While within the sweat upon my brow a new image
Is born.
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squarehopper reviewed Version 2 -
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Much better. I can feel the struggle and force being exhorted. I can see myself in the role… and then you connect with my imagery with the “my”. Very well done. This is a very deep and sensual piece. A great metaphor for many things.
I have nothing to say more about this.
The other reviewer had some thoughts but I don’t necessarily agree with them. Leave this up for more reviews and build up your credits and see what others have to say. Especially EAnnonymous, ClaireD, WIllow Wren, Tia and a few others.
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squarehopper reviewed Version 1 -
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You have a very interesting style of poetic writing. I am not sure how to feel about it. My first reaction is rebellion, but then I read again and I begin to see how it works well. I am finding myself fighting within my sensibilities about your style. But I think I am leaning towards really liking it.
This one works for me much more than the first one I reviewed. Still have the issue with the “I” here – But the “my” works very well here.
I would recommend you try to rewrite the “I” line to remove it and see if you like it at all.
Good work.
Butterat_Zool reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a strong image that you present. I may be reading too far into this, but the old image/new image duality reads to me like a metaphor for finding rebirth in tradition and routine. Is this as simple as “it used to look like one log, but now looks like two”? I ask because if there is a rebirth metaphor to be found, I’d like to see at least a glimpse of the epiphany that occurs as/after the curtains come down.
Also, lines 1-4 almost have a nice little meter going on there, but when i got to lines 5 and 6, where the lines suddenly got longer, that sense of tempo dissipated. I think this poem, about breaking free of routine, could benefit from a display of the author breaking free of routine as well. Maybe 8-10 lines of iambic tetrameter, with an ABABCDCE rhyme scheme, so every line in the poem rhymes except the last one, and that way both the persona and the poet appear to be seeing a new image at the same time.
Finally, and this may be picky, I think line 8 is missing a comma. The way I read that line on the first try, i took “while within” to mean “as, externally, i saw the log being split, what follows is a description of my internal emotions” and then two words later, realized that “within” was actually describing the passage of light through a drop of sweat. My suggestion for the line: “while, within the sweat upon my brow, a new image”.
Overall a pleasant poem off to a good start. Thanks for sharing!
Butterat Zool.
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