For those of you who didn’t see, the first poem I’ve ever featured on my blog was Broken (read it here), and was written for one of my poetry assignments for my creative writing module. A later task was to redraft a poem, and I picked Broken. My main criticism I received on the poem was that I was trying to tell the reader what I wanted them to interpret it from it, so I took out the ‘wider message’ parts of it altogether, and hopefully let the imagery do the talking. Let me know what you think!
Dislodged rollers, disabled delinquent pieces,
Expired ink, reams that you insisted
barren weapons scribbled upon, cramping wrists.
Burnt out wax, Antarctica landscapes
but Sahara temperatures, useless handshakes,
curling charcoal in place of bullshit for
Fortune cookies, cardboard orange, snapped and
devoid, chasms for meaningless message,
no longer dessert but deserted.
You clung to those words.
A lipstick nub, a palimpsestuous smile
you once painted on, fantastic colours
but thoughtless faces
fracked by impenetrable forces,
reaching out but no pigment to be seen.
A face washed clean.
Withered parcels, crying petals of stem decay.
The glory of your display has become a token
of your laziness.
Make an incision to see the colour they’re meant
to be. No longer dyed. Dead.