Insomnia

[ladymirth]

When every thought feels like
It’s been thought before
Worse! Thought by other men
Present and of yore
And all new ideas another
Tangle and twist in the string
Of this game of cat’s cradle
That we call ‘thinking’
The brain keeps a-whirring
Smokes of wisp-like thought
Like a sewing machine hammering
With neither thread nor on cloth
Where is the off switch?
That my mind may cease
Have all futility done with
And succumb to sweet sleep

Feedback, anyone? 

Comments

[janabard.livejournal.com]

Just a couple suggestions:
-"Present as well as of yore" feels rushed with too many 'filler' words in the middle. Maybe make "as well as", something like "and", &/or add a juicy adjective or adverb? 'chilly yore... gruesome yore... careless yore...'
-Change "of the string/ In this game" to "in the string/ Of this game"
-I love the image of the sewing machine without thread ("string"? Did you choose that for the sibilance?) nor cloth. It's terrifying and out-of-control, combined with that horrible thought "Oh no, I think I broke it..." But my experiences with such a thing have not been wisp-like at all, and it feels like whispery whishy wisps are being likened to that sudden loud pounding and grinding of a machine rebelling, with your heart racing to catch up and overtake it... unless the wisps are smoke?

Great job! I enjoyed reading that even more than the last poems, and you've pulled me out of my shell to provide constructive criticism of poetry "out loud"-- something I haven't done in ages!

[ladymirth.livejournal.com]

Squee! You are my new favourite person! I haven't received constructive criticism for a peom in so long that I'd stopped expecting it. Thanks so much!

Edits are duly noted. How about "primitive yore"?

The sewing machine analogy is hard to explain. I just had this mental picture of two machines hammering away noisily at nothing, heating up and steaming and exhausted past breaking point. Unlike the sewing machine, though, the brain is never empty - that would be oblivion. But it does produce a series of wispy, intangible thoughts like smoke in the wake of its whirring. I hope that doesn't confuse you even more!

I used the word "string" the second time because I temporarily forgot the existence of the word "thread". *facepalm* Maybe I should change it to "thread". It'd save me using the same word twice, at any rate.

Thanks again for the lovely concrit! =D