Down the spiral and up again
. Throw,
. pounce.
. Throw, bounce.
. Hold and crush,
. get an instant rush.
. Sighs let out like wind before rain,
. look up, around and down, falling to the ground again.
. boredom covers me black and white where fleeting pleasures’ paint-balls splash band-aids on the pain,
. and there’s only one against whose wily blows it might strain.
. The breeze whips up a smooth melody
. of lost sounds and smells;
. I see you.
. This rush,
. I
. hide.
................................................................................................................................
Down the spiral and up again
. Throw
. bounce.
. Throw, pounce.
. Hold and crush
. Get an instant rush
. Sighs let out like wind before rain
. Look up, around and down, falling to the ground again.
. This eternal boredom black and white where fleeting pleasures’ paint-balls splash band-aids on the pain
. It's my armour given by routine’s rarefied refrain.
. The breeze whips up a crude melody
. Hidden bells, lost smells
. I see you.
. This rush,
. will
. last.
(Every line's syllable count follows the fibonacci series in a pyramid. Both versions were written in a 25 minute word war. Which is less bad?)
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
This will be super short because I don't have a firm grasp on what's going on in the poem, but I'll let you in on my inferences all the same.
So, comparing the two pieces for clarity, flow, draw-in, and thematic presence, I'd say your first deserves the place of Real One. My takeaway for this is essentially a narrative of turning to anything--sex, substance, nostalgia--to cover up a pain that's latched onto the narrator's mind (because heart is too cliche.) The more I read this, the more I agree with it, I think, and agree with my inferences. The cigarette/joint lines "Hold and crush / get an instant rush" are pretty decisive for me when it comes to the theme, intentional or not. Then there's the longest line, and the air imagery for nostalgia.
I dig it.
Lumi
Thank you!
What's going on is that someone has put things that eventually became boring into their life so that it keeps their mind distracted from the hurt, but on seeing a certain someone they go "oh that's my new drug."
The starting lines are just someone bouncing a ball or one of those retractable pens with springs that some people make bounce on tables etc.
Thank you!
What's going on is that someone has put things that eventually became boring into their life so that it keeps their mind distracted from the hurt, but on seeing a certain someone they go "oh that's my new drug."
The starting lines are just someone bouncing a ball or one of those retractable pens with springs that some people make bounce on tables etc.
Okay! so this is something new and different.
Now I don't understand the entire thing nor could I find a completely coherent meaning out of it but you've got zero reviews on it anyway so it can't hurt. (At least that's why I think)
While reading them I thought it was a shape poem but as you declared at the end it's way more complicated than that.
Let's go one by one starting with the first:
Initially, it didn't make much sense to me, especially the 21 syllables line. After four or five readings I can comprehend certain meaning out of it though. With the constraints that you set up for the poem, you did a remarkably decent job of portraying a picture full of angst or adventure or repetitive actions. With all the ambiguity I figured that whatever it is, it is some action pumped up with adrenaline. Now the longest line comes and declares that you are covered with boredom. This sets me off a little. The one possible explanation here is that all the actions earlier in the poem are your brain trying to fight this boredom but to me that doesn't seem enough. If I got this wrong, correct me in the reply. Now the line that irked me the most:
and there’s only one against whose wily blows it might strain.
who is that one? Is it the breeze? Is it the person for whom it's addressed to? I'd have loved if "one" was replaced with "you" but again I might not have been able to comprehend it.
The second one:
It is almost the same as the first one with a few tweakings. Was it the rule of the word war that you mentioned to use a specific set of words? Nothing much to add here, the line
It's my armour given by routine’s rarefied refrain.
fits well with the concept of eternal boredom.
Coming to the ending. The second poem's ending doesn't make much sense to me. If you're used to the boredom, how will that rush last? Maybe because of the fact that you're used to a routine that anything new shall give you that feeling but personally I liked the first one better because it felt more connected to the entire poem and also my personal taste that likes anguish more than a happy version.
likhte raho, sukhi raho!!
-rohan
Word war was a time duration where you already have an idea and have to write as many words as possible.
What's going on is that someone has put things that eventually became boring into their life so that it keeps their mind distracted from the hurt, but on seeing a certain someone they go "oh that's my new drug."
The starting lines are just someone bouncing a ball or one of those retractable pens with springs that some people make bounce on tables etc.
Then depending on your interpretation, either they crush the ball and fall to the ground (if narrator is of a younger age) or they crush a cigarette/joint , with sighs let out like wind before rain etc.
In the second one, the rush might last because it's the rush of the company of of a person, and not some inanimate object, dil balle balle kar raha hai toh yehi narrator ki chahat hai ki karta rahe.
Likhte toh rahenge baaki pata nahi xD
Dil tudwao balak... fir rush niklega
Arey sir celibacy declare karne ka soch raha hu yahaan seriously