literature

WIP - Flustered

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Literature Text

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
Probably going to play with this more. #Glory-Be-Project Day 116, NaPoWriMo Day 26.

The piece Doc gave me to edit today featured a short poem from his wife. Doc himself has admitted that he has an entire book worth of poetry stashed away, something he worked on for eight years. Over the phone this evening, I asked why he didn't write poetry anymore; I could practically hear the record needle scratch. He really didn't have an answer. I've never heard him so flustered before :XD: It was kind of adorable.

His writing style isn't exactly prose poetry, but there's definitely a lyricism to it that I really like; he has a way of telling simple stories in very beautiful ways, and it's probably the reason we play well together. Our styles are different enough to be distinct, but close enough that they mesh well, and we can tell what the other one is trying to accomplish. I'll have to toss you guys some pieces for compare and contrast sometime.

Anyway, none of that really has anything to do with the piece; it was just interesting to me to see (well, hear) that off-balance facet. He's usually so composed :XD:

Different story, but apparently his wife doesn't write poetry anymore either; sometimes she scribbles things on sticky notes or napkins or whatever's handy, and he collects them and types it all up and it's that the cutest thing you've heard today? :heart: That's going to be a different piece entirely, but I didn't want to forget about it.

[EDIT] I came back to it :)

He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.

But there’s a lyricism to his words that I really love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in
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GDeyke's avatar
I like the idea of this a lot, especially the middle line.