02-22-2013, 04:19 AM
Hi Michelle, let me give you some comments on the edit. Oh, and yes editing is much harder than writing, and it does help to give some time between edits to get the needed perspective.
Best,
Todd
(02-21-2013, 11:48 AM)Michelle311 Wrote: Thanks again to everyone for all the feedback. I have been working on an edit which I will post below but I am uncertain about some places. But I'm done looking at it! Haha, need to take a step back so thought I would get some help. Agh! Editing can be so hardA good edit. It still probably has some places to go, but its moving forward.
Edit
My Tears are Made of Chalk--This is an improvement. You have the option now to cut the repetition on line one and let the title serve both as title and a first line starting point. Purely an option. It's my preference, but I've seen it done well both ways.
My tears are made of chalk
Children wait for me to cry so they may create rainbows on the driveway
Rain washes them away before the colors return to my face
My skin is made of vegetables
My kids will lick my arms and hands but only if I threaten with no dessert--like this addition a lot. I think you can cut meanwhile on the next line
Meanwhile I give new meaning to the term - vegetative state.
My hair is made of fireflies
Each strand shines brightly in the night with a beer on every split end
Dimmed in the morning, they are captured and pinned amongst fragrance free sheets
My fingernails are indestructible
I baby them like they are my future sons and daughters learning to drive in a Hummer.
When they break, I cry tears of joy, and they stare at me incredulously.--I hadn't noticed the tears of joy before I love this because it's like the nails represent the way we protect our children and then let them go...While a breaking away goes on its a good thing
My chest moved in with an elephant
He leaves his dirty clothes in the living room and never does the dishes
My chest tried to leave him; but there is always such a thin line between want and need--this is better
My stomach is full of ash
I can’t do anything about it. I tried to swallow a fly.
Perhaps I’ll die.
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson

