Potential
By EB
- 5919 reads
at tender two he knows
the scent, the swell
and cling of paint that bleeds
between clenched fingers;
blossoms fists; flares
plump palms to shoot
star prints across a blank
wide sky. A brush stroke
here and there scrapes
colour in ripples that wave
to mud; doldrum green,
with streaks of red
he'll remember later -
when he buries her. But
for now he paints the sea
without notion of future
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Comments
A lovely mix of ideas, the
A lovely mix of ideas, the poignancy of a child's first experience with paint, the connotations of blood and life and death, transience. Really like it. I just wonder if clench'ed' might read better.
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This is our facebook and
This is our facebook and twitter pick of the day!
Get a fantastic reading recommendation every day.
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Wow
This is a fantastic first piece from you Elliot. Really promissing. Can't wait for the next one!
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The comparison of the child's
The comparison of the child's innocence compared to what the poem seems to infer what will happen in the future is quite startling.
Very well written with some lovely images.
Lindy
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Hello EB
Hello EB
Scratch has said it all for me.
Likewise looking forward to reading another post
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very accomplished, if abc
very accomplished, if abc continues to acquire writers of your standard it'll be quite a hotspot.
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This is stunning. Some of the
This is stunning. Some of the lines are feathers and others daggers.
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I was sceptitcal before I
I was sceptitcal before I read this, but I have to say that I loved it. The second stanza sounds amazing and you link your image into the bigger(the biggest) theme so skillfully that I am suitably wowed. Erm...wow.
Thanks for reading. I am grateful for your time.
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