Poem: Revision

What? Revision??? Don't be silly. Everything I spit out is perfect. Well, except for maybe that one bit over there. Oh, and don't look at that other part here either...

{Please click through and read this on a laptop or desktop instead of your phone. The formatting for this one is intentional and forms a visual layer to/adds to the whimsy of the piece that doesn’t work on mobile. Thank you!}

Revision

	Curses upon your ancient head!
	Curses upon your blackened words!

	My newborn thoughts are perfect,
		brilliant, I tell you!
		shimmering sprites in
		the misted wood.

	They need no poking.
		No adornment or
		subtraction.
	Fully formed the announced
		themselves
		leapt like white doves
		onto the page.
	My brilliance and metrical glory
		cannot be overstated.
	Fresh words roll off my tongue!

	                         *they announced, not the
                                 *do white doves leap?
                                 *does this poem even have a meter?
                                 *roll off my cliché, more like

                        
                   Alright, fine. I’ll revise.

---

Why does this exist? (a stuffy artist statement)

This was a homework poem from last winter. I don’t remember what the assignment was, but I’m going to guess it was something along the lines of “revise.” I had big thoughts about that.

But also, I got much better at revision last year, so it paid off despite the griping.

---

Not necessary but always appreciated.

Something that stuck with me this week:

Local friends are good. As in, ones in the same town. One of my too-many self-assigned projects for the winter is to figure out how to make friends as an adult in a way that doesn’t involve me chasing people down like a loon and badgering them into playing with me.

And now, an Irish blessing because I like those:

May your heart be warm and happy
With the lilt of Irish laughter
Every day in every way
And forever and ever after.

I post The Sooth episodes on Wednesday mornings and other stuff on Friday mornings

I may also post at other times, but for sure(ish) on those days (I shoot for 6:00am PST delivery but don’t always quite make that). See you then!

About Rachel

I’m a writer, data analyst, Mom to six, and slightly weathered woman based in Oregon (I refuse to call myself “middle-aged”). That all sounds very mature and stuffy, which is why *this* is a space for play and experimentation and fun things.

About Purple Playground - Start Here

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Current book-in-progress: The Sooth

Juniper “Juni” Beauchard just wants to heal her father from his terminal illness but inadvertently sparks an intergalactic incident instead.