ink blots


drip drops, blits blots

tiny little pebbles lead the way.

their color black

or blue. their song is

colored too.


this is how it comes together

meaningful lines

on ice.

retrospectively it’s supposed to be clever

and defined,

not rough

just art.

 
clinging to meaning and feeling

beyond the pictures shaped by

drops that

drip blots.


it’s a love making technique,

sometimes just shoving, no love,

just fucking and breaking my soul.

but, it is here

and it is me

no more.


~at dVerse, emmet wheatfall met us at the bar to talk about the craft of writing poetry. we were invited to write about writing, and so here it is… 

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About Debbie Shahar

My thoughts, fears, feelings... intertwine. They change. I do not sometimes. They too sometimes stay the same. The song in me wants to fly free. The bird has it. I need it. I cannot Let me be. "Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning." (1-4, Stevie Smith, from: Not Waving but Drowning") background image of Gravatar: photographer AB Troen, my youngest brother.

Posted on September 30, 2011, in art, poem, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 13 Comments.

  1. I really liked this. I think this is the first of yours I’ve read. Nice to meet you. Great opening to poem; luved the aliteration and quick rhythm. It grabbed my attention. I liked the comparison to the way sex is sometimes, it ain’t always pretty, artful, but describes the moment without romantics. Sometimes the art of write is just telling it like it is and not flowering it all up. I enjoyed your POV and poem. Great work. I look forward to more.

  2. “drip drops, blits blots

    tiny little pebbles lead the way.”

    Very nice figure here…we each have to follow our own trail of bread crumb to wherever the meaningful and elusive lines are found. I enjoyed this insightful excursion.

  3. line onice…nice description…it captures how they slide around…like the pebbles too…fidning little bits here and there…and then of course the love making…it is…it is intimate andat times brutal…

  4. This does a wonderful job of describing how the process comes together, sometimes easy, sometimes hard, sometimes beautiful, sometimes a bit brutal. Well done 🙂

  5. Nicely done, Deb. 🙂

  6. i like the playful voice you start this with…the song…then you change keys a bit and i so can feel this…poetry is much like making love in all its magic and simpleness and sometimes even ugliness…loved this deb

  7. meaningful lines
    on ice

    … this idea was central for me. I love that precision after the blits and blots. You have done a great job of capturing the contradictions of writing.. definitely could relate to this .. and enjoyed the read.

  8. Hi, Debbie. I enjoyed reading, reflecting on, and digging into your poem. Here’s my mini-critique (since we’re next to each other here in the pub):

    S1, L1 – like your onomatopoetic “blits and blots” instead of the predictable “blips and blops”
    S1, L2 – like the idea of “pebbles lead[ing]” you…me…the reader
    S1, L3 – consider omitting “their color”

    S2, L3 – great, surprising turn!
    S2, L4-7 – maybe change to “it won’t be clever / and defined / but rough — / just art.”

    S4, L1 – consider hyphenating “love making”
    S4, L3 – like “breaking my soul”!
    S4, L4-5 – maybe contract both “it is”

    Hope some of those crits help.
    Geoff

  9. Certainly is a lovemaking technique! (I said that too, in my own way.)

  10. So glad you found time to join up. I also liked the comparison to love-making…the difference between truly loving and just “performing.”
    Happy holidays, Debbie

  11. Very cool post. I just came by your site and wanted to say that I have truly enjoyed exploring your articles. Any way, I’ll be subscribing to your RSS feed and also I’m hoping you post again shortly!

  12. Hi Deb,
    just wanted to say hi. I hope all is well with you. 🙂

  13. Some great passages here. Nice write

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