Poetry Wednesday - Revising time limited poetry

Words as pictures, words given autonomy

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Hello poetry people,

Earlier this year I undertook the

Beth Kempton

#tinywinterpoems challenge. A single word prompt, 10 mins only to think and write, no revision allowed. I took no revision to mean that once it was written down it couldn’t be changed you had to work with it (I did alter incorrect spelling, cos yeah, dyslexia). So I’ve even working on them slowly. A couple I liked enough to not revise at all, a couple I thought were really yuck and those I’m still struggling with, I may even completely scratch what’s already written and start afresh with those. But some I think I can improve on. So I started with this one, Winter. It’s not a bad poem in itself, but I’m wanted it more succinct.

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Winter

It’s cold, and dark, and it smells like freezing metal.
The damp pervades and brings its own tang on the tongue.
Feet crunch on hardened frost, shattering ice crystals reaching skyward. 
Fingers pink and grow numb, stuffed deep into pockets.
Dragons breath hangs in the air with every exhalation. 
Stamping feet in thick boots ring out in the suffocating quiet.
Time is slow, thick, languid; waiting, slowly waiting. 

Light edges warmly up the street, rumbling nearer until 
It stops and the doors open, warmth tumbling out,
I take my seat with a brief nod. Relaxing perceptively 
As I unwrap the scarf, pull off the gloves and remove my hat. 
“City centre please.” A small yellow ticket proffered and taken. 
Street lamps flicker by and the day starts.        

Photo by Val Vesa on Unsplash

Winter

It’s cold, dark, smelling of freezing metal,
Damp bringing a tang on the tongue.
Feet crunch hardened frost, shattering ice crystals 
Fingers numb, stuffed deep into pockets.
Fogged breath hangs in the air. 
Thick boots stamp the early morning quiet.
Time is slow, thick, languid; waiting. 

Light edges up the street, rumbling nearer, 
Stops, doors open, warmth tumbling out.
“City centre please.” 
A small yellow ticket proffered and taken. 
I unwrap the scarf, pull off the gloves, remove my hat, 
take my seat with a brief nod of acknowledgement. 
Street lamps flicker by and the day starts.

---

It’s not a huge change.

What do you think? Which version is your favourite? Do you go back and rewrite often, or do you never review them once your filed under finished?

I’m normally of the opinion that I don’t go back much and change much, maybe the occasional punctuation or an odd word, but I don’t normally do big rewrites. Poems are of their time and space and should write another rather than make big, big revisions. I have extended two poems, only two, over the years. Added on extra as the situations became clearer to me. I keep both copies. For everything else I get rid of old versions, scrap the drafts, and let the finished version sit.

Until next time.

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