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Writing (sonnet workshop)

I write, my fingers bleed, I write some more.
A strange chartreusian charm it blends and spills.
The marks are mad as if I fuck a whore
and soon I break another lifeless quill.

But what it is I write, there lay the rub,
for I am clueless as to all this fuss.
My fingers, hand with which I write I stub
and tear the quills and drain the ink and cuss.

Blessed, what I write is in my teeming mind
if not upon the black, blood stainéd page:
of love and need beyond this life to find
and how I reek of illness and of age.

But soon, for me, I’ll know It and be awed
as I look eye to eye with Menkind’s God.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
For those who know me this will be a little raw. This is about as raunchy as I get. The word "blessed" is pronounced in a single syllable. Uncommon but not rare.
Editing stage: 

Comments

I like this. Hope I can get there

*Collaborative Poetry Workshop* American Version of Japanese Poetry ~ Renga ~ Haiku, Senyru, Tanka.

Neopoet Community

'as if I' in verse 3 stanza 1
'to all this' in verse in verse 2 stanza 2
'is in my' in verse 1 stanza 3
the stresses seem a little weak

also, if we are being fussy with perfect rhyme ... spills / quill

great sonnet Wes
Good strong volta
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

they are weaker stresses.
The rhyme is my fault. I have been trying to loosen up in the work on my epic poem and allowing things like that. It crept in.
I've scheduled the flogging for next week.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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author comment

looking again for the 'like' button...
will the flogging be a public or private affair?
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

especially the theme.
I see no problem that "blessed" is a monosyllable, but isn't it STRESSED :)

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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The whole line reads anapest. Although anapest is the traditional companion of iamb, it is out of place in this workshop.
Judyanne, all floggings are public if they're to mean anything and it looks like I'll be thrown to the sharks covered in blood.
Hey, that's not bad imagery.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment

Yeah! Not bad at all !! :) But not you. You are a shark yourself sir!

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me
www.instgram.com/rularules1

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