Cosmic voids
#1
Submitting to acceptance:
drifting forever.


Unable to scream
without air.
Unable to dream;
the void waiting there.

Nerves branching out; 
sensitive to the slightest stimuli.
Signals traveling down their stalks:
carrying back nothing,
overloading the senses.

Introspection curling into itself
like burning paper
leaving only terror, in drifting paralysis;
without warmth or sight for light years:
forgotten in the pocket of the universe
amongst its lint and detritus.




 Introspection curls into itself
like a threatened millipede
leaving only terror, as one drifts within;
without warmth or sight for light years:
forgotten in the pocket of the universe
amongst its lint and detritus.

Their nerves stretch out like branches
sensitive to the slightest stimuli
Sensing nothing, hearing nothing:
overloading the senses.

They can’t scream,
because there is no air.
They can’t dream,
the void is waiting there.

It would disturb the silence anyways;
it would be rude to break its long standing record. 



They submit to acceptance,
and drift forever.

"My mongoose is coming."
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#2
(05-05-2022, 02:57 AM)Semicircle Wrote:  Introspection curls into itself
like a threatened millipede   - love the simile but think it would be stronger as a metaphor 'Introspection is a threatened millipede that...'
leaving only terror, as one drifts within;  - confused by 'one' here, wondering who or what is 'one'
without warmth or sight for light years:  - undecided about 'within;without' together, it jars slightly
forgotten in the pocket of the universe   - like the 'pocket' analogy
amongst its lint and detritus.                 - can you have detritus in your pocket, obviously yes, but usually? Now according to spell check 'amongst' is a spelling mistake and upon researching it google reckons that it is archaic American English and that among and amongst are interchangeable, but 'among' sounds wrong when said out loud so I don't know why I've mentioned it (especially in basic critique).
Also additional - 'light years' seems like a measurement of time the way it is mentioned here, although I know what you mean. May need fixing, may just be me.

Their nerves stretch out like branches  - back to wondering who or what 'their' is
sensitive to the slightest stimuli
sensing nothing, hearing nothing:
overloading the senses.  - lots of 'sense' repetition here

They can’t scream,
because there is no air.
They can’t dream,
the void is waiting there.  - back to the 'they' question

It would disturb the silence anyways;  - ahh please get rid of 'anyways' its so teen and you're a mature genious
it would be rude to break its long standing record. 



They submit to acceptance,
and drift forever.

I've probably written too much for basic so I'll lie and say I thought we were in mild critique.
Cheers for the read.

Extra for free -- If you do an edit it's best policy to put your most recent version at the top and then subsequent previous versions underneath so that readers can follow the progress of the poem. I only say this because i've noticed that previously you have just edited. I used to do the same, but then after the 137th time they released the hounds and I've not done it since  Thumbsup
There's a thread somewhere that explains how to do it, I'll pretend to look for it whilst really hoping that Tiger will leap out and post the link

FFS I found it straight away http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-19301.html
Easy Tiger - no work to do here
feedback award wae aye man ye radgie
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#3
Your piece currently piles on too much. It starts off a metaphor (a person -> introspection) followed by another metaphor (introspection -> millipede) followed by ANOTHER metaphor (millipede -> object in space) followed by ANOTHER metaphor (object in space -> object in a pocket).

Then, in the second stanza, there's a "they". Introspection is already an inanimate object, so "they" can only refer to the person compared to introspection rather than introspection itself, but that's not entirely clear, *especially* when there is a plural noun much closer -- "light years". So while the sense is sort of clear in the second stanza -- "Their nerves" referring to the millipede's nerves -- it should be more direct. Not to mention another awkward layering of metaphors: "nerves (of the millipede)" -> "branches (of a tree)" is fine on its own, but trees aren't exactly well-known for being as sensitive to stimuli as, say, a twitchy fly, *and then* it's followed by "sensing nothing, hearing nothing", which is a blatant contradiction.

The third stanza doesn't need the first comma, while the second comma seems better-replaced by a colon or something. Dreams tend to flourish in voids, too, so the second sentence doesn't seem particularly sensible.

The fourth stanza does seem especially juvenile, compared to the attempted voice in the rest of the poem.

The fifth stanza also doesn't need the comma.

But yeah, the third and fifth stanzas are what I would consider to be your 'starts', because they're simple enough to root a better, more sensible poem; they contain what you want to say, without the unwieldy mess you've actually presented. Piling on metaphors, as you've done with the first stanza, is a legitimate technique, but either there has to be some sort of spatial or temporal logic behind it, or the way you present the metaphors has to be exceptionally daring. You have to let the metaphors connect in a manner that tells a coherent story -- for example, start with why someone feels so small, then that someone compares how they feel to dirt in their pocket, which they imagine to be a millipede curled up, which (*working their way up*) could be compared to a family huddled up in Azovstal steelworks, which could then be compared to all of Ukraine, then all Generation Z, then planet Earth in the vast solar system, then the solar system in a vast galaxy, then the galaxy in a vast universe -- or else you have to dedicate much more than a single line or even just a few words to the metaphor, describing the images with enough force that the reader actually *wants* to figure out the piece's internal logic. The rest of the poem hinges on this; your current missteps make the second stanza as senseless and the third stanza as dull as they currently are.
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#4
Cheers for the comments Ambros and River!  Blush

Looks like I have some work to do, also, thanks for the tip Ambrosial. I was wondering how to make previous versions of my poems.

I will edit accordingly.

also, Rivernotch, to disagree with this statement "Dreams tend to flourish in voids, too, so the second sentence doesn't seem particularly sensible."

In some instances of being trapped in a particular place, all of your dreams take place where you are trapped.
My grandpa went to prison for a long time, and all of his dreams now take place there, even though he is a free man now.

that's what I was going for, but if that is confusing, is there anything I can do to convey that better?

a mature genious-- (:

ambros you stinker
"My mongoose is coming."
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