z

Young Writers Society



Sleepy Living

by Clo


Though waking up often is a difficult task,
the heaviness and blissfully blank way
my mind lays out limp in all directions
is so much appreciated that I do wish
I could go on waking up forever and
never make it through the front doorway.

I sit at the kitchen table, hands splayed,
praying that my cereal bowl, object of my attention
will wipe away all the thoughts creeping
and cooing along my worn-out synapses –
if I think of nothing but soggy oat flakes
then maybe I will forget all the tension

that sticks between each notch in my back,
making me slump forward and carefully take
a spoonful of breakfast that I slowly chew
for when I am finished there's the next step –
put on my jacket and turned toward the door.
I want the waking, but not the being awake.


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382 Reviews


Points: 33318
Reviews: 382

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Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:00 pm
Galerius wrote a review...



Hi Clo,

Yeah... no. The more times I read this, the more mind-numbingly pretentious and sloppy it becomes in my mind. That's not something you want your reader to feel.

Clo wrote:Though waking up often is a difficult task,
the heaviness and blissfully blank way
my mind lays out limp in all directions
is so much appreciated that I do wish
I could go on waking up forever and
never make it through the front doorway.

I sit at the kitchen table, hands splayed,
praying that my cereal bowl, object of my attention
will wipe away all the thoughts creeping
and cooing along my worn-out synapses –
if I think of nothing but soggy oat flakes
then maybe I will forget all the tension


This is almost sickening to read. "often is a difficult task", "the heaviness and blissfully blank way", "is so much appreciated that", etc. Pare this down, cut it like you're making bacon strips out of a pig. These phrases are immensely un-imaginative and don't really portray anything that the rest of the stanzas cannot. You had some good parts in there, like the synapses and the oat flakes, but they were overshadows by these blisteringly bad phrases that you threw in. Throw them out. Put in some imagery; your first stanza only has one instance of semi-maybe-kinda-imagery in a sea of five poetic lines. Not working.

that sticks between each notch in my back,
making me slump forward and carefully take
a spoonful of breakfast that I slowly chew
for when I am finished there's the next step –
put on my jacket and turned toward the door.
I want the waking, but not the being awake.


Okay, yeah, we get it, you're tired and kind of depressed. You don't need to hammer in this point over and over again with the "slump forward", "slowly" - that sort of stuff. This is where the poem begins to sound fake, as if you're desperately trying to act like someone who's world-weary but can only think up of dry cliches to represent it. The last line is a little cute but doesn't at all pull off a victory, considering how sub-par the rest of the work was.

So... re-do this. Please. Also, it's good to see you back.

Hope that helped,
Galerius




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12 Reviews


Points: 2920
Reviews: 12

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Wed Feb 10, 2010 9:59 am
Kibble wrote a review...



Great poem, and I love the final line. It really captures that morning feeling, which people dislike, but is actually only a bad feeling because we're dreading leaving the house.

Clo wrote:Though waking up often is a difficult task,
the heaviness and blissfully blank way

It might be better to begin each line with a capital. The non-capitalisation is stylistic, but I'm feeling like it detracts from the purpose of the line break itself.
my mind lays out limp in all directions
is so much appreciated that I do wish

For a second I had trouble working out this long idea, "blissfully blank way my mind lays out limp in all directions is so appreciated that I do wish I could go on waking forever"
and I think the noun "blank way" and the verb "appreciated" are separated by too many words. Could you bring them closer together? "Goes out limp in all directions" is great.
never make it through the front doorway.


I sit at the kitchen table, hands splayed,
praying that my cereal bowl, object of my attention
will wipe away all the thoughts creeping
and cooing along my worn-out synapses –

I can relate to this feeling. Is "cooing" a verb that works with along? I think "creeping" is strong enough to stand alone, and the line might flow better without the "and cooing".
if I think of nothing but soggy oat flakes

I like this line; the soggy oat flakes seem to resemble the feelings of the awakening person.
then maybe I will forget all the tension

that sticks between each notch in my back,
making me slump forward and carefully take

I like the "between each notch in my back". The "all the" in "all the tension" doesn't sound quite right, almost as though it's a little much?
a spoonful of breakfast that I slowly chew
for when I am finished there's the next step –
put on my jacket and turned toward the door.

This ties back nicely with the last sentence of the first stanza (also about the doorway). I'm not sure "turned" is right; should it be "put on my jacket and turn", as it seems to be in the future tense (they're thinking about the next step).
I want the waking, but not the being awake.

As I said before, this last line is fantastic.




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369 Reviews


Points: 15698
Reviews: 369

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Mon Feb 08, 2010 6:45 am
Conrad Rice wrote a review...



Hi there, Clo! Saw that you dropped by to give me a review, so now I'll do the same for you.

So, I like this. It took me a minute to see what you were saying with this, but that is because I am a bit slow. I want to suggest finding some shorter words, but at the same time I do not. You've got a nice setup here, and I am afraid doing too much would ruin it. So, if you want to tinker around with finding some simpler words, go ahead, but don't be afraid to disregard my advice entirely.

So, all in all, a good effort. You may want to tighten stuff up, but I am still unsure if it really needs it. PM me if you have any questions or comments.

Good job, and good luck.

-Conrad Rice





The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451