These gums are splinter strewn with pencil shards from musing on ideas, chewing the fat, picking bones from the meat of a thought until it sits on the page just right stripped to sinew, muscles drawn tight pure power in a few dangerous words.
Thank you. I said to Bjorn below, I’m currently redrafting a novel which is way less fun than it sounds, especially with a five-month old. Some days it feels like I spent most of my time changing nappies, and debating the placement of a single word.
Oh this cuts to the bone of it. We readers bask in the finished meal, but give little thought to the cooking process that got those words from abstract ingredients to plated fare.
Oh yes, a muse that knows how to survive in the wilderness of the world of writing. Loved how you ‘stripped to sinew’ the words. Your quadrille really illustrates another type of muse one that is ruthless in searching for perfection. Chills.
So glad you liked the poem Lillian. I seem to spend so much time gnawing on ideas at the moment, unfortunately it doesn’t always seem to lead where I want it to.
Oh, the painful work of writing. love the physical element of sinews and gums… the muse can be a tough master.
Thank you Bjorn. I’m currently working on a redraft of a novel, which is pretty similar to pulling teeth at times.
What a first line…………..stunning. Wonderful poem, finishes so strongly too.
Thank you, I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it. I really enjoyed the softness to your own quadrille, and the calmness running through it.
This is incredibly potent! I resonate with; “picking bones from the meat of a thought until it sits on the page just right.”
Thank you. I said to Bjorn below, I’m currently redrafting a novel which is way less fun than it sounds, especially with a five-month old. Some days it feels like I spent most of my time changing nappies, and debating the placement of a single word.
Whew. This is so visceral, Carol. So well done. It really can be like that.
The writer’s blood is spilled, one way or another. Potent writing. Nice to see you at dVerse again.
Thank you. The new baby has been keeping me busy but I decided to make an effort tonight and have an hour or two or poetry after she went to bed.
You’re welcome and congrats on the baby.
Potent work. Laid out bare for all to see. Great stuff, Carol. Thanks.
Thanks for dropping by Ron. Hope you’re keeping well.
Such a terrific description of creating something. I hope it’s not always so painful!
We all need dangerous words. Nice one.
Luv your images. Nice one
Happy New Year
Much love…
I think many writers can relate to this. Nice quadrille.
Thank you.
Oh this cuts to the bone of it. We readers bask in the finished meal, but give little thought to the cooking process that got those words from abstract ingredients to plated fare.
Oh yes, a muse that knows how to survive in the wilderness of the world of writing. Loved how you ‘stripped to sinew’ the words. Your quadrille really illustrates another type of muse one that is ruthless in searching for perfection. Chills.
I always have a little celebration when someone tells me that my writing gave them chills.
😀
Yes, so much effort can go into the task of ‘picking bones from the meat of a thought
until it sits on the page just right’. Love this!
Thank you. 🙂
Holy shamoley – this makes me want to keep things out of my mouth, Carol! How visceral!
❤
David
There is a immature bit of my brain that just read your comment and started spluttering uncontrollably.
🍆 🤡
Ooh! Wish to know what this character was specifically thinking!
You got to the bare bones of it, Carol! We do spill our guts.
Just don’t chew on the computer! I love your literally visceral approach.
Thank you. I will do my best to avoid snacking on the mouse.
Well done, Or is it raw? Such a visual and visceral poem.
Thank you. Is it odd that I sometimes find the really visceral poems the most fun to write.
Ouch! I can feel those splinters and taste chewed up pencil wood.
I perhaps should have considered how much the memory of the taste of graphite would come back up each time someone commented, before posting lol.
And the paint when you chewed the end of the pencil.
I love it! I can see you chewing on your pencil!
I know, such a terrible habit 😉
I used to do that in elementary school. It is a wonder I survived not getting lead poisoning from the paint back then.
[…] When The Muse Spits Blood – A Poem By Carol J Forrester […]
Oh my gosh, Carol…you had me with the first line! What an image….and oh yes, it’s like gnawing on ideas, right?
So glad you liked the poem Lillian. I seem to spend so much time gnawing on ideas at the moment, unfortunately it doesn’t always seem to lead where I want it to.
[…] When The Muse Spits Blood – A Poem By Carol J Forrester […]