re-write

still working

There was a play written once;

directions plotted

by faces I never met.

And I can't help feeling like

we are being re-written--

the play and me.

It's time to travel,

quiet steps ever inward.

The path may be uneven--

my progress slow.

Memory still winds and rewinds--

flickering through scenes

that seem foreign.

The script is unrehearsed;

I wish I could remember

how it ends.

Reviews

[Pete Langley]

" All the world a stage ,and..." The plays are different inside our heads and outside - and get continuously re-written with new experience, so that recall of an old plot becomes fuzzy with time. I love the analogy in this piece. Well conceived, Emily. P.

[p.kuhl]

"Directions plotted" gave me a nice nautical image, like cardinal directions and map plotting. Wonder if that could be worked in here somehow..."it's time to travel" is one of the best sounding lines I've heard in a while. Awesome honey to my ear holes. Great write

[SHEEMA HUQ]

poses many questions, which is a good thing, i wondered if you liked the play?, and were you drifting off into your own thoughts and memories while watching? I quite liked

[Emily B]

thank you

[alan peter kelly]

i think we both know how each story ends...yes....stories written by foreign hands...direction orchestrated by interests other than and for our own...the play has an infinite number of variations....but only one conclusion...strong words...

[...]

. i'm scared ... of being written off ... terrified ... completely ... about how it'll all end ... emmah called it "the raw face of life" ... i hope we all make it ...

[paul]

wow. beautiful. moving, moving, moving

[The Thracian]

just a few tweaks, do as you would...

There was a play written once[.]
[The] directions [were] plotted
by faces [that] never met.
I can't help feeling like
[this is] being re-written,
the play[;] me.
[]
It's time to travel,
[to take] quiet steps [inwardly].
The path may be uneven--
my progress[, even] slow[er].
[]
*Memory still winds and rewinds--
flickering through scenes
that seem foreign.*
The script is unrehearsed;
*I wish I could remember
how it ends.*

** the bits I framed with stars need a thorough review by their author... both for the sake of the poem, and simply in my giving you a direction in which to work. I also think you could conjure up a good title for this piece, something quite ironic, puntastic, if you gave it a minute or two and focused on your goal with this write.

I also think you could, for the sake of trying, try to write this one without the I.. or to make an object out of the I. "And every time I was found, it became a distant scene about her, or she, or even on occasion, he."

I don't really know what else to tell ya. Thank you for yar review, and I hope mine wasn't too offensive. I know you're a strong proponent of "to each her/his own" and the intent of the above is to in no way say that my mine should subjugate yours.

En tout cas...

[wolfshrew]

i feel the length of this poem even played a role in how beautiful it is, it was just enough. written with talent and certainly one of my favorite things to have read in a while, thank you for sharing.

[kurrupted]

Hmm! when i began to read the lines like the Kevin Spacey movie "usual suspect" i became confused and further down the line like the Leonardo Di Caprio movie "shutterisland" i went completely confused.

i cant seem to get the exact words to describe what i want to say but all i know is what i want to say is great...great great great

and regarding the name i guess it'd be ok if we leave it like as it is.....SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT I HAVE BEEN SAYING.