So, in response to a couple of questions about why I hate fog so much, I decided to write about it. I thought I could capture more of the emotion, but I feel like this first draft fell a little flat. I tried to bring a poetic meaning to my loathing of fog, but it kind of went in another direction. I'm going to play with this idea a little more, but in the meantime, here's my initial rough draft:
The Grey
Sometimes, an all too real
fogginess full of ponderings,
lack lustre memories, daydreams
of old habits and past friends
creep into the corners
of your unfocused mind
hovering somewhere between
yesterday and tomorrow, cold
and permanent, dull, leaking
life that once cracked your bones
and rattled your insides, held
your hand and carried you away
P.S. The real reason I hate fog is it acts like an unwanted hat on a sunny day. It'll be absolutely beautiful here at home, blue skies, melting snow, birds chirping, and then I head down Silver Star Rd into town and drive into a cloud of misery blanketing the town and blocking out any signs of happiness.
Rant over.
I really like what you have so far Lindsey, and I know what you mean about the fog! It's hard to escape it, living down here. But anyways, I hope you keep working on it, I really like what you've got so far!
ReplyDeleteI can't say this poem describes exactly why you don't like fog, but I do super like the result. I can relate to this idea of unwanted memories just creeping in from the back of your mind like fog. I think it's an excellent metaphor. I think this poem is great without much revision, but one suggestion I would have it to maybe drive this image of fog home...? I dunno, the fogginess of the word fogginess seems to suffice in itself. Meh.
ReplyDeleteWell done!