Bodybuilder

[tectak]

Version 2.1

Bodybuilder

My cousin knew a sculptor long ago,Tranpose the semi colon to here, its natural home
perfection overwhelmed his every thought;Then period here
if not the best his work was all for naughtComma after best to clarify the conditionality of the phrase "If not the best". The comma substitutes for the implied "then". IF NOT-THEN
and through his work his dedication showed glowed."and" is weak but moreso because you are losing the conditionality. "so" would be a better choice. It is presumably because of what he did not complete that only the perfect remained. SO, because of A then B.
The finest marble made his pieces flow
into a life their own. Yet still he sought
Until they came alive. Yet still he sought...
this dreamèd form – “At last, I’m done!” he thought;No. It just doesn't work. Dream-edd, dash, "At last I'm done" he said he thought? I think you are rhyme-wrapped.
his masterpiece was wrought, prepared to show!I KNOW you are rhyme-wrapped. The piece is suffering now. The rhyming is extruded.
And yet, despite the contours of the stone,
the years of slaving, beating at his trade,
the sculptor found a single imperfection:
he'd never quite displayed its overgrown
intent. Its graven eyes, yet soundly made,You have now given up. Run out of metaphorical steam. Must find an ending some how some way.
could never understand its own reflection.A bloody long journey for this last resort.
Hi pinsir,
You write some good stuff but you just MUST get it posted ASAP. Stop. Read it. Tweak it. Make sure the texture and detail is the same from beginning to end. This reads as though twelve people each wrote one line and the final couplet was added to make it sonnet-form. Try to write it again without using so many conditionalities. Yet, yet, yet, if, but. I am lost in a Boolean Loop, circular error!
Best,
tectak



------------

Version 1.0

My cousin knew a sculptor long ago,
perfection occupying every thought;
if not ideal his work was all for naught,
and through his work his dedication'd show.
The finest marble'd make his pieces flow
into a life their own. Yet still he sought
this visioned form - At last, no more he fought;
his masterpiece was wrought, prepared to show!
And yet, despite the contours of the stone,
the years of slaving, beating at his trade,
the sculptor found a single imperfection:
he'd never quite displayed its woebegone
spirit. Its graven eyes, yet soundly made,
could never understand its own reflection.