art does not interpret itself **
the brush has no use outside the palette
there is paint under my nails
what a waste,
what a waste of time
there's butter on my canvas,
my fingers are chopping chives
the red smells like wine,
my paintings must not shine
empty plates, grumbles from his mouth
where are the canvases he promised me about?
my work is alone,
my work is incomplete
the see-ers cannot see,
my apron covers it
he tied it to me, yes, he did
art does not interpret itself**
free me, my see-ers
slip a knife through my fingers,
let me follow my heart
he washed away my precious colours
let me draw them from his body
he burned my work,
i will burn his skin
i will paint without a canvas,
i will taint his red kin
**LINE BORROWED FROM SONG 'DOLL PEOPLE' BY SOFIA ISELLA
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Oh I wonder what "he tied it to me" means. Is it just the apron or maybe a role you dont want?
the second one. he forced her into her submission from art.
Juchu, I interpreted something correctly! :3
Hello, My Friend!
Hiya, nice to meet you!! I spotted you poem in the Green Room and wanted to give it a review!
Okay, this is such a complex and just straight-up gorgeous poem—there's so many meanings I am trying to decipher, just sitting and thinking when I'm done. I love how you start with this idea, how half of the importance of art is how it's interpreted, and then after all these beautiful artistic analogies, it comes down to the "interpreter" here being...much less than appreciative. And then the artist takes things into her own hands, of course >:)
I don't really have any recommendations for improvement. I notice some uncapitalized "I"s, and that some lines have commas, others don't. So maybe a grammar touchup if you were really twisting my arm for critiques lol, but that's also just me! It's still great and very well-written!
I love the line you picked, that inspired this poem! The followup was also very creative!
Ooo, here you can really feel the tipping point, where all this work the artist has been doing is just going unrecognized and underappreciated by this elusive interpreter...
This whole ending is just AWESOME! Taking the source of this artist's struggle, her unpleasable critic, and turning it into...well, more art! In the most raw, real, and brutal of ways no less...NICE!!
Overall, this was awesome! Nicely done!
"They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."
"Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
"I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty."
thank you so much!! in my opinion, the lack of grammar just helps make it more rawer, and the random commas are definitely on purpose!! thank you!
Oh okay! And you're very welcome!
Hello! This poem is so incredibly good and well written. I think it's unique how you used a line from a song inside of your poem, I haven't seen that done before but I think it works super well in your poem. The poem starts with art and using clever metaphors to relate the objects of art to cooking and kitchen items. The man in the poem seems to have taken away the dreams and art of the character and the character wants to get them back.
I noticed one typo in the line "where is are the canvases he promised me about?", I'm assuming you meant "where are the canvases he promised me about?" so I'd fix that. But other than that, this poem is so so good!
My favorite line has to be "he washed away my precious colours", I really like the wording there. Good job with this poem, keep writing!
thank you so much!! i didnt even notice the typo. i'll correct it now. thank you!!