The Ice Sculptor

rose_thistle wrote:The Ice Sculptor


The Ice Sculptor chips away at his latest work
Chip chip smack
Chip chip smack
He is formulating a statue of himself
Chip smack chip!
The ice explodes into tiny dots of rocky snow
And melts into a hard white sphere on the compacted dirt floor
His heart pounds
Thump pound pound
He chisels the features methodically but he can never get them right
Pound pound thump!
His hands curl with cramps
He stores his tools in a wooden box
And he is done for the night
While he is gone the statue shimmers in the moonlight
Shhh…
The day comes again
The sun stretches over the jagged, dusty mountains
And the morning heat sends water running down the statue’s frigid face.

Maybe a bit vague. A little too much so actually. I thinks its pretty cool. (literally and metaphorically!) Maybe you should incorporate the meaning you wanted to get through by this poem into the poem itself. That way we get that you're trying to state the complexity of the human body.



What do you guys think? I was going to add something about a swan and how much easier a swan would be to make than yourself but I took that part out.

Thank you for reading!

I like it I think it has potential keep at it and put in the swan bit if you want... might change the poem.

Hmm this is a very interesting topic to write about. I think you have the difficulty of sculpting perfectness down, but this poem seems a little off to me.

His hands curl with cramps

He is formulating a statue of himself

He stores his tools in a wooden box