Each morning, I write a poem (see my collection, if curious), mostly from one word prompts over at Mastodon. This morning, the word was “quill” and I wrote a short piece of three stanzas, and then moved on to other things. But something didn’t feel right and that disquiet kept pulling my mind back to the poem. I had added a single word at the last line of the poem, and as I ruminated on it, it didn’t work. And it bothered me. A lot.
These mornings poems are quick writing exercises so I usually don’t worry too much about them, but something about this one, and that one word, bugged me. I had to go back, edit and revise, and remove, the word, and when I did, I had that feeling of, yep, that’s better.
The word was “crazy” had been before “world” in the above poem (but crazy is now removed), and I had added it late at first to give alliteration to “quill” (the one word prompt) and “quiet” but the rhythm was off for me. The removal of the “crazy” (interpret that move metaphorically, if you want) put my mind at ease.
Weird, the way the writing brain works, right?
Peace (and Poems),
I liked reading about your reflections and decision to revise, and I also like the poem better with the word change.
I’d call this an Emily Dickinson moment. Removing the adjective = the right move.
Thanks for sharing a bit about your revision process.
I love “a quill to quiet” and you’re right, the world is just right! (No need for crazy–there is enough of that going around!)