-Original-
Like Elaysha: Revised!
Like a tree, a dryad I stretch statuesque,
Kirriling through the forest that I am.
I am, in myself, a triad wound in one,
And the bagpipes in the Highlands
Bellow Canaan’s Land into the green.
I am the fire and the oak,
Both brisk and non-moving.
I am a cat upon the tree stump,
Swathed in purple and crimson red.
A soft meow emerges from the pillows of my lips—
Tintinnabulation from a whis’ling gypsy’s hips.
I am the bread, I am the forest—
Both fulfilling and boundless.
I am a book upon the shelf,
Dusty leather and yellowed paper with the knowledge of old.
Like a neglected blue Nova,
I am like Nietzsche’s god without your hand.
I am afraid, afraid of being lost before my time
Or never having had my chance—
I don’t want to fail before I’ve had my try
Or forfeit my work and life.
And the word which strikes like lightning beneath my eyelids
Is one of regret, I don’t want my talents to go to waste.
I don’t want to be lost. I don’t ever want to be lost.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-Rewrite-
I am a tree, a dryad frozen in time,
The soundless whispers of the forest.
I am the the whis'ling gypsy,
The wanderer with no land.
I am the book upon the shelf,
The dusty one, yellowed and bound.
I am Nietzche's god without your hand
And yet I stand, about to fall....
I fear no more and yet find myself no longer,
'twas my fear which held me alive.
And, now I find, no words strike behind my eyes.
I am lost. I must find my way.
Author notes
My ode to writer's block, if you will...something of my current state of mind in a form previously seen by better times.
A contest entry
- Winner Takes All.. (1000 points) by LeilaJayne.
1100 points, ended November 27, 210 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Which do you prefer? What are your thoughts on the pair?
Comments
-
Better
I definitely prefer the second cut. My poetry prof used to say that in poetry, unlike prose, needs to say the most with the least. The second one cut to the core of what the first one was, which is good; a good way to re-write, to be sure.
There remains a conflicting idea in the second one, though... you are at once a nomad and gypsy and someone who needs to find "my way." Part of being a nomad, a gypsy, a worn out book, is tha the way is that of wandering...
What I do see is the potential to develop the idea of once having found yourself (identity) through the wandering, hence the title of a nomad or gypsy, dryad or yellow-leaf book.... and yet now you find yourself at the end and looking back, all you see is a trail with no roots, and you are searching for somehtign to identify yourself with, to plant and pass on, but your history and your identity is wrapped up in the wind and trails, and as such, is nebulous as the night sky...
RRP
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