Hair and dust billowed up and choked his view eyes nose mouth ears but he kept going. Sunlight drifted in at a lateral slant and sliced cleanly through his cloud. Sound sifted soft through the emptiness of the room, and he was left (all alone) with his broom.
I think that's a poem. See?
Hair and dust billowed up
and choked his
view eyes nose mouth ears
but he kept going.
Sunlight drifted in at a lateral slant
and sliced cleanly through his cloud.
Sound sifted soft
through the emptiness of the room,
and he was left
(all alone)
with his broom.
But I don't like it with line breaks. It ruins the flow of the piece. It's a single moment, better represented by a paragraph, rather than a series of short little lines. But if I don't write it in the style of a poem, no one will know or care.
I see what you mean. Sometimes I like short lines, but sometimes I think it's all wrong. I like this piece both ways, but they have completely different feels, and if you prefer one, and it gets the feeling you want, then go with that.
ReplyDeleteSo much dust. I wonder why (I don't wonder why. Well, I'm pretty sure I know why.).
Sweeping. I bet you knew why.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I dunno. Poetry irks me often.
I think that's because people try to take prose and MAKE it poetry, and it resists.
ReplyDelete