Borderline Masterpiece
A poem about editing one's work.
Borderline masterpiece, it's all it will ever be
If only I could ever let a piece just be
without worrying and fretting about minor details
insignificances and ridiculous indiscretions
that no one, apart from me will ever really notice
Chip and chip and chip away, chisel it down each day
until it is just right, or a shadow of its former might
-
Borderline masterpiece, all it will e'er be
if only I could e'er let a piece just be
without worrying, fretting about minor details
insignificances, ridiculous indiscretions
no one apart from me will ever notice
chip and chip away, chisel it down each day
until it's just right, a shadow of its former might
=
borderline, all it will be
If I could let a piece just be
without worrying about minor
insignificances, indiscretions
no one will ever notice
chip, chisel it down each day
until it's just a shadow
-
borderline
could a piece be
without worrying
insignificances
no one notices
chip and chisel
just a shadow
-
Borderline masterpiece, it's all it will ever be, unless I let my mind unlock the gates to the refactories and hidden studies of the inner workings of what it takes, all it takes to be a man, a modern man, with older standards for dignity interlocked with forward thinking approaches to understanding and empathy
If only I could ever let a piece just be, unless I let it be all it really needs to, wants to be - there is no limit or restriction, surely? there should be no limit or restriction of a man's sperlunking into the depths of his psyche
without worrying and fretting about minor details, the imperfections that make us human, the indignities that make us feel alive and of honest living
insignificances and ridiculous indiscretions, the ones we remember late at night when we can't quite sleep as much as we'd like, when the light is on inside our mind and the play needs to be performed in our mind's eye
that no one, apart from me will ever really notice, unless I let it all go and bleed it proudly on the page, for all to read, for all to take a microscope and analyse the lines, phrases, words, flow and form
Chip and chip and chip away, chisel it down each day, why would I when I have so much to say, every single day. When did the joy of brevity overshadow the joy of verbosity?
until it is just right, or a shadow of its former might, a shadow of what it could be, if I had just stopped myself in my tracks before I extinguished the fires that longed to burn brightly, before I exorcised the demons before they were exposed to the hot white light.
Author's Notes: The image for this poem is a painting by Edouard Manet that was considered rushed, unfinished or just not as good as many of his others from the same period, at the time. Now it is considered a classic. I wanted to show the theme of the poem, that there is a fine balance between editing and editing and just letting your words speak.
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
Keep reading
More stories from Paul Stewart and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (12)
You've tapped into the most fun, painstaking part of writing. For challenge pieces, I can't count how many times I felt I should have changed something before submitting an entry (before and after). You'll never know either way if it would have made a difference. The fact that you wrote and shared it, is always the achievement. The victory.
Oh, wow! I really love this! How each version shrunk smaller until the explosion, just keep scrolling back and forth to see the progressions. Really landed the “When did the joy of brevity overshadow the joy of verbosity?” question well! And the phrase borderline masterpiece is such a genius one that I think instantly connects with all artists! fantastic work, Paul!
A story for all artists of all kinds to read and learn.
Written is better than perfect is my motto (Whatever perfect means. Probably a different thing for everyone) and my attitude to editing is that I'd rather have someone else do it while I toy with an entirely fresh idea that has just popped into my brain, lol. Making the editing process a work of art in itself is not something that has ever crossed my mind... So, I'm mindblown again, as I so often am reading your pieces, sir Paul!
This is not something that bothers me. Maybe it should...Oh no. See what you've done with your musings? Ha ha! Only joking, chum! I like the process of this, the inner workings of your mind. All versions are good though, you know that? All have merit, all are unique. Is one better than another? Perhaps but that's in the eye of the reader, surely? And we have no control over that at all.
This whole thing felt very lyrical so I sang it to my own tune, even the paragraph parts hehehe. Sir Paul, for what it's worth, all of my stories in Vocal are unfinished. I love leaving my readers hanging. But I don't think that means the quality is bad. Same goes for your work. Keep that in mind. Or else 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Powerfully relatable sentiment, it’s easy to agonize over the editing and difficult to ever find real satisfaction or completion with a piece of one’s own writing. Seems like it’s always WIP. Love the way you presented this idea with the rewrites and edits, felt very true to life. Great work :)
I noticed and its beautiful, Paul. I love the process in this poem for processes sake.
This is excellent, and quite relatable. The paring done in search of perfection that neither I, nor my work, will ever be.
Compulsive, idealistic editing is difficult to resist, my liege, and you have represented its implications with style here.
Ah, the eternal internal struggles of a perfectionist. I will never forget how my doctoral thesis advisor told me when I complained about how imperfect my work felt, “The best dissertation is the one that is completed. It just needs to be good enough to pass the committee’s test.” Words to live by for almost everything, including borderline masterpieces.
I really feel this