With the exception off a few things I've written, I consider the rest as unfinished pieces that can always be improved upon. And like you said, I can rewrite and rewrite something to death, or until it starts to drive me crazy. At that point, I'll write a dumb poem just for fun.
You are right about dumb poems. But this one was not dumb. Within you reveal what it really takes to be a writer. Not just writing down some words willy-nilly and then getting them posted as "poetry," because they don't fit any conventional writing and wouldn't get past a first grade teacher's scrutiny. Real writers have to be perfectionists and understand their craft taking a toll on their time and their creative urges, but rewarded by critical accolades or cash in the form of sales.
A delightful lark through the foreboding enchanted woods that surround those of us with the creative gene that perfectly describes the near-frenzied state creative people are often momentarily afflicted with, when the muse (who is otherwise usually calm and stentorially pontific) suddenly experiences a sort of cerebral St. Vitus' Dance of the allegorical fingers. Refreshingly free of the sort of semi-prosaic, representational bilabial non-silibant fricative analogues that so often hound our expiative literary efforts! I enjoyed this more than a little!
Good on ya, Mark! -K2
We read you, loud and clear.
Ron
Good on ya, Mark! -K2
Sandie :)