Published December 8, 2006
A cryptogram drained by empty spaces
Heaps of dots; its only taste of ink
Collusion between confusion
-A pen, a scrap of paper-
Sweat grieves on your forehead,
The clock ticks;
There’s time to think
Yet conceited lay the empty spaces,
No longer to be written in
Relationships once had,
Floating ABC’s and 123’s
Washed away,
Drenched in your surrender
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141,411 Literary Works • 674,390 Reviews
Ikes, I'm very sorry for I thought I had made things clear enough for everybody, so it is that it is only clear for me,
I would like to add this up : The whole poem is basically about solving a cryptogram, I hope this makes things a bit clear, if it is so that Brad knew that all along, -which he probably did- I must say, I am indeed very dissapointed in myself
Ah well, next time better
I agree with Brad. Parts of it have potential, and I can tell you worked on this for at least a little, but you need to write about things other people can understand. Good luck with the rest of your work.
Jearjioe
Chandni--
You might have something worth working with here, but the delivery is just terrible.
It's a flat and abstract piece with an incoherent jumble of references that only mean something to you; the conclusion might accomplish something if it made sense.
When I got to the "...There's time to think / Conceited lay the empty spaces," the only thing I could think of was: "What have I accomplished in wading through this mess?"
The "floating ABC's and 123's / washed away, / drenched in your surrender" idea may have some potential, but not if you don't let us in on the secret. When you do that, you turn a potentially interesting concept into starry-eyed twaddle.
Why not toss this out and re-start? Think of what goes into it as well as what's on it.
Best to you,
Brad