words, raw and chaotic
spilling like an upturned toybox,
a riot of colour and shape and size,
waiting to be sorted, to be loved or discarded
and ultimately, reduced to black type on white screen.
the gleeful joy of the upended toybox,
now constrained by order.
who can say which is best to convey meaning?
© ceenoa
YOu, my dear, are on a roll … that is tremendous work!
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Sometimes that’s how it works, bubbles of words well up and blurp out for days. I really appreciate your compliment Osyth, because you know I think your writing is so beautiful.
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It is a mutual admiration society of two then. Your style is very different to mine but I do love it 😍
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They do say differences are good, and I would agree. 🙂
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A triumph of word sorting!
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Thanks Lindy. Think it is still a little off in the final words, but I may tweak it a little more (now, I wonder where that inclination comes from?)
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Beautifully done – one wonders where the inspiration comes from!!
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Thanks Tina, I wonder that myself? 🙂
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Very nice!
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Thanks for your niceness Brian 🙂
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I like this colorfully artful portrayal of words. It does indeed sound like a reduction of sorts, going from being bold and vivacious combinations of letters pieced together to form something more, to being a smudge of black ink that is subject to judgment and possible eternal disposal.
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Quite often, actually, I think that is what writers do – disposal of words that might have best been kept and considered a little longer, in a different view.
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Lovely imagery!
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Thanks muchly for your kind words.
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This is really beautiful!!
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You are very kind to say so, thank you.
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So much power in that toy box. Wonderfully penned.
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Thanks Miriam. The toy box does have power, and the ability to kick it over may be it’s greatest. 🙂
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Absolutely 🙂
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This poem was as enjoyable as it was thought-provoking! Amazing talent!
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Flattery will get you everywhere – on my blog 🙂 Thanks Paul.
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