Hey Todd,
I quite like what I'm seeing here. I'll go into more detail below:
(10-19-2017, 06:48 AM)Todd Wrote: Revision 4
Bare of leaves, the wild oaks
stretch like fellow insomniacs. -I like this opening. It works with the title and makes me want to see where this poem is taking me.
Dew sizzles in beads
on the long grass. -Why is the grass long? It implies growth, which I think works with the idea of no sleep/rest. To me, this works with the title being "Too Restless to Sleep".
Under the dry light, flowers glint,-I noticed there has been some discussion about the use of the word "flowers". I like the use of "flowers" here because it made me think the speaker is talking about more than one type of flower. My impression could be wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.
unblown pinwheels in the thick air.
I shift in the dirt
from foot to foot,
knowing the end
will be nothing like this. -I quite like the last two stanzas. It makes me think that in the end we will not be surrounded by life (i.e. oaks, grass, flowers). Is this a poetic way of saying we all die alone? Don't answer that question if it would give too much away about the poem.
Revision 3
Bare of leaves, the wild trees
stretch like fellow insomniacs.
Dew sizzles in beads
on the long grass.
Under the dry light, flowers glint
in the still air, unblown pinwheels.
I shift in the dirt
from foot to foot,
knowing the end
will be nothing like this.
Revision 2
The wild trees, bare of leaves,
seem like fellow insomniacs
under the dry light of the forest.
Flowers glint in the still air,
unblown pinwheels
as dew sizzles on the long grass.
I shift in the dirt from foot to foot,
knowing the end
will be nothing like this.
Revision
The wild trees, bare of leaves,
seem like fellow insomniacs
under the dry light of the forest.
The flowers still in the heavy air,
unblown, stationary pinwheels.
I shift in the dirt from foot to foot,
knowing the end
will be nothing like this.
Original
Under the dry light of the forest,
flowers are unblown, stationary pinwheels.
The wild trees, bare of leaves,
seem like fellow insomniacs.
I stand in the dirt shifting
from foot to foot,
knowing the end
will be nothing like this.
I hope I was helpful in what I said here because I feel like I might have just rambled a bit. I do feel like you're very close with this one.
Thanks Richard, this is one of those poems that my meaning unfolds to me more and more as the critiques come in. Some things are plotted out, some like this one are written from feel and discovered in revision.
So, I took some good things from your comments. Thanks,
Bare of leaves, the wild oaks maybe "the wild oaks stretch bare of leaves"/ like fellow insomniacs (to avoid the enjambment).
stretch like fellow insomniacs.
Dew sizzles in beads together with the sizzling i thought of those sweet fizzy chains where you could chew off one bead by one ..time, telomeres.. don´t know if you meant something like that, quite like the meta anyway.
on the long grass.
Under the dry light, flowers glint,
unblown pinwheels in the thick air. this line is in my op. almost too compressed and seems to me like a slightly different story. another word for "unblown" might be more fitting since it seems to be more an impossibility to blow them in the thick air than a decision (forget all that if i understood it completely wrong)
I shift in the dirt
from foot to foot, not sure if "from foot to foot" adds anything here that wasn´t in "shifting". i could imagine the two last stanzas compressed to one 3-liner.
knowing the end
will be nothing like this.
the title pictures sleep as something desired,
while in your poem, especially the ending, sleep appears more like the proverbial little brother ..
maybe just name it "restless" ?
Hey Todd, I liked what you did with the ending. The extra emphasis placed on, "will be nothing like this" by your spacing change is completely justified.
