Inspiration

This one is pretty good! Imagery is good too. Red. I see a car accident.

There are echoes, you repeat certain phrases... echoes fading. The repitition is in embeded in the sentences. red paint. painted red. death poem. last words. last thoughts.

This poem, sort of, in a way, reminded me of Emily Dickinson and her death poem.
http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/english/melani/cs6/fly.html

One of the things I remember when studying this poem, was the process of death. How the body shuts down. The eyes sight goes first, this sense of all the senses takes up the most energy. The last thing to go, hearing... There was something interesting about brain activity that I cant quite remember now.

I like! Good work! Hope to read a second and third draft!

I also like the fact that you dont actually say or write "blood" but i feel, or the imagery of it is everywhere. The red eyes, blood seems to be flowing heavily perhaps from a head injury. The rain, droplets... etc.

Wow, that poem by Emily Dickenson is really good. You found the poem I based my name after, nah Im just kidding. But I felt like she was talking about me, since I am TheFly after all.

You got a lot of the imagery I put into "Red Paint" You are on the right track for a lot of your analysis. The repitition, the imagery of blood but never saying blood. The echoes. I mean you got most of it. I will work on it though as it is only a first draft. Ill maybe drench it more in imagery and hide my meaning a little further. I like how you see it as a car accident I didnt realize it sounded like that but I left it so ambigous that I it can be interpreted as anything. There is a certain situation I put that character into to write it. Thanks for reading.

TheFly wrote:Wow, that poem by Emily Dickenson is really good. You found the poem I based my name after, nah Im just kidding. But I felt like she was talking about me, since I am TheFly after all.

You got a lot of the imagery I put into "Red Paint" You are on the right track for a lot of your analysis. The repitition, the imagery of blood but never saying blood. The echoes. I mean you got most of it. I will work on it though as it is only a first draft. Ill maybe drench it more in imagery and hide my meaning a little further. I like how you see it as a car accident I didnt realize it sounded like that but I left it so ambigous that I it can be interpreted as anything. There is a certain situation I put that character into to write it. Thanks for reading.

LOL! I didnt even put the 2 together, Dickinson's and your alias!

The "red lights driving away" and the "my gut slowly paints the road red."

Have you tried breaking up the lines, using ejambment and stuff? I'm sort of interested in seeing it that way, so that I can hear where you want to pause...

Im working on another draft, rewriting some of it. Making it flow better. When I feel like its better Ill share it with you guys.

I dont like using enjambment much these days. Im going through a different phase in my writing style. I like to call it Free Write. Its like a mini short story describing one moment with lasting effects. The characters are usually the person and their mind with an ambiguous third party.

Here it is, the second draft to "Red Paint". I tried to make the situation a little clearer and tried to make it flow a little better. Its subtle changes but you will hopefully get a different impression this time around.


"Red Paint"
The echoes sway back and forth inside my head and yet all I can hear are the soft slaps of the droplets of rain. I can no longer hear what was said and instead see your red lights driving away. I wanted to say the right thing but my lips now only let out the last soft breaths these ears will ever hear and somewhere lying inside the drenched darkness I stay watching the rain as the droplets drop onto my dying face. As my gut painfully paints the road red the pain inside my head slowly melts away and the echoes of your last words sway back and forth. But somewhere between the cool wetness on my face and the hard sting above my waist I find my calm. The pain of your life streams from my eyes as I realize why I died for you. I wanted to say the right thing; I wanted to say so many things but your eyes painted in red laid to rest all we had. The sharp cold gray stained of deep crimson now lies by your side to which it left me to lay eyes upward lost in the falling rain. I'm sorry I wanted to say but the pain of your life now paints red my eyes as I realize why I died for you.
-Armando Torres (TheFly)

I posted this one up on my Blog. I think I like this version.

http://placeboeffect23.blogspot.com/