Wordmaker
What are we called?
Wordmakers.
What are we born of and what do we craft?
Words.
What do they call us?
The Inkweavers, The Invisible Mouths, The Faceless Voices
Do we speak?
No.
Do we dance?
No.
Do we sing?
No.
What do we do?
Fill the silence.
And what do we fill it with?
Words.
What is our sleep?
The rustling of pages.
What is our food?
The unblemished sheets.
What is our drink?
The ink of the printers.
What is our song?
The words that form the worlds.
What are we called?
Wordmakers.
What are our souls of and what do we breath?
Words.
[/i]
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
125,017 Literary Works • 672,850 Reviews
Here you say we do not sing.
But here you indicate that we do sing. Which is it
Cameron
I like it. I kept imagining little elves writing in big books, like the shoemaker's elves only the bookmaker's elves, crossed with the Borrowers, singing out this chant like slaves on the plantations sang as they worked, as they wrote in a dimly lit, dusty old shop. That was just the image that came to my mind, but it had a very mysterious, and at the same time cozy, feel to it. Sort of an exclusiveness. I liked it.
This is odd.
And much like a chant..."Who are we? The Knights! What are we going to do? Win! How are we going to do it?" ...etc.
I personally did not like this, as poetry anyway. I can't really tell you why...I've never seen anything like this called poetry.
Meg
Gyrfalcon you have achieved what I have tried to for SO long. Literally. I do agree that it does start to sound a bit like a cheerleader's chant, though. . .and lose of this little kid's thing I used to do
what's your name?
Mary Jane
Where fo you live?
Down the lane.
What do you eat?
Pig's feet.
What do you drink?
Pink ink.
What do you where?
Mommy's dirty underwear. [/b]
*shudders*
bad memories.
Towards the end it started to sound like a cheerleader's chant. But maybe that's just me
The 'no' questions got a little repetetive, but you do have some really beautiful imagery. 'Rustling of pages', 'unblemished sheets', and 'ink of the printers', to name a few. But mixing up the format a little would improve it, I think.
I really like it! A good description of authors!
just a note, guys: WE are the wordmakers
the idea is fantastic, it kinda reminds me of the plot of the next novel i'm planning to write.
i loved the style and the odd but excellect flow of the verse.
an interesting and mysterious poem and it makes me want to know more about the wordmakers.
Some parts were cliched, but nice idea. Good job!
Overuse of the word ...erm..."word"
yeah, I know nothing about poetry and you already know what I think of this one, but I just had to say it. I LOVE this. I'm going to tinker it into a paint document and stick it on my desktop. Yeah. Props for gyrfalcon.