Poetry Forum

Through the Layers.

I found myself falling the other day, not stumbling over a root of a tree, or loosing my step from the curve.
But like a lost aviator, stuck on autopilot, being ejected from high in the sky,
past the moon and the stars

I was 
Falling and
Falling and 
Falling.

I thought I saw the ground coming,
but it's only just another cloud
brushing against my hot skin 
cooling me like a winter breeze
in the middle of Florida day in July.
Soaking my clothes, cleansing my body and soul
like an Islamic man washing his hands in pure water before prayer.

Falling and 
Falling and 
Falling.

Maybe a parachute can swoop up all the air and create a violent jerk back to reality letting me get a clear yet confused look over the area
But I don't want that parachute to open.
I want my soul and heart to fuse and twist into a spiraling bomb towards the heart of the one that pushed me over.
Destroying all surrounding enemies, threats and sorrows.
My flames will not be flames, and my shrapnel with not cut. 

But,
I'm still falling and
Falling and
Falling

Opening my eyes, like a new born child, blind to my surrounds, instinctively letting out a cry, being grabbed by my hand and nestled in between.
Feeling a new sensation of breath, noise and touch. 
Until patted on my back when I forget to breath, looking up when my eyes un-cloud, seeing who has made me a victim 

I am falling

Far from the ground, up into the sky,
Thrusters at full capacity and weight at maximum until reaching a hemisphere where I release my boosters,
strip my weight and become a small powerful ship
Containing my mind, to take me to further places 

I am falling.
Past the lands I once thought I discovered, when I was poked and prodded by a false prophet that stripped my lands and killed my village,
seeking my splendors but only wanting to sabotage my heritage. 

I am falling.
Past the lands I wanted to bunker in, where my bomb shelter laid full of my own pride, my own ideas, my own foolishness. 
I had all I wanted, the irresponsibility, the pleasures, yet; my soul was missing there and I was stuck trying to find it. 

I am falling.
Past the lands where you either hunt or be hunted.
Yet I came short on game and settled for rats and rabbits, containing no nutrients, having so substance. 

I have fallen.
To lands that are unknown.
The air is sweet, and my skin feels different.
My heart beats a different drum, and my soul flows through the air, greeting me with smiles and anticipation.

Hey JasonM.,
There were some parts of this poem that used some nice imagery. However, some of this poem seemed a bit distorted because I think you were trying to say too much at once. I'll explain more below:

(04-30-2017, 05:52 AM)JasonM. Wrote: [ -> ]Through the Layers. -Is this the title or the first line?

I found myself falling the other day, not stumbling over a root of a tree, or loosing my step from the curve.
But like a lost aviator, stuck on autopilot, being ejected from high in the sky,
past the moon and the stars -I understand that this is hyperbole, but this just doesn't work for me as the reader. May be if you said astronaut instead of aviator.

I was 
Falling and -I would end this stanza after the "falling" in this line.
Falling and 
Falling. -The spacing, the capitalization and the repetition in this stanza gives it emphasis. It's usually best not to over do this in one poem.

I thought I saw the ground coming,
but it's only just another cloud
brushing against my hot skin 
cooling me like a winter breeze
in the middle of Florida day in July.
Soaking my clothes, cleansing my body and soul
like an Islamic man washing his hands in pure water before prayer. -Watch mixing similes like this. You compared a cloud to a cool breeze and soaking clothes (sweat?) to a Islamic man washing. While these two similes don't contradict one another, they need to connect and  support each other more.

Falling and 
Falling and 
Falling. -This stanza isn't needed. It is over doing the spacing, capitalization and repetition.

Maybe a parachute can swoop up all the air and create a violent jerk back to reality letting me get a clear yet confused look over the area -What area? You need to explain this more.
But I don't want that parachute to open.
I want my soul and heart to fuse and twist into a spiraling bomb towards the heart of the one that pushed me over. -I would change the word "pushed" to "dropped" or something like that, so it is more consistent with you main idea of falling.
Destroying all surrounding enemies, threats and sorrows.
My flames will not be flames, and my shrapnel with not cut. -May be I'm missing something, but this line doesn't make a lot of sense to me.

But,
I'm still falling and
Falling and
Falling -This stanza isn't needed.

Opening my eyes, like a new born child, blind to my surrounds, instinctively letting out a cry, being grabbed by my hand and nestled in between.
Feeling a new sensation of breath, noise and touch. 
Until patted on my back when I forget to breath, looking up when my eyes un-cloud, seeing who has made me a victim -The imagery in this stanza is good. I just don't see how it works with your overall image of falling.

I am falling -This line isn't needed.

Far from the ground, up into the sky,
Thrusters at full capacity and weight at maximum until reaching a hemisphere where I release my boosters,
strip my weight and become a small powerful ship
Containing my mind, to take me to further places -I'm not sure what image you were trying to convey here, but the last two lines of this stanza made me imagine a brain in a jar piloting a spaceship.

I am falling.
Past the lands I once thought I discovered, when I was poked and prodded by a false prophet that stripped my lands and killed my village,
seeking my splendors but only wanting to sabotage my heritage. -Again, you have to think about how you mix your metaphors. So far, one person has pushed you, birthed you, and now killed your village. I get your feeling behind these metaphors. They just don't gel well enough to work together in one poem.

I am falling.
Past the lands I wanted to bunker in, where my bomb shelter laid full of my own pride, my own ideas, my own foolishness. 
I had all I wanted, the irresponsibility, the pleasures, yet; my soul was missing there and I was stuck trying to find it. -I like these two lines. I want whole poem built on the ideas and images in these two lines.

I am falling.
Past the lands where you either hunt or be hunted.
Yet I came short on game and settled for rats and rabbits, containing no nutrients, having so substance. -How can any type of animal contain no nutrients?

I have fallen.
To lands that are unknown.
The air is sweet, and my skin feels different.
My heart beats a different drum, and my soul flows through the air, greeting me with smiles and anticipation. -"My heart beats a different drum" sounds almost cliche to me.

I get what you are going for here. The whole crash-landing/fall is like a rebirth process. I just think you tried to do too much with this idea. My main suggestion would be to trim this poem down and try to keep the focus on your main metaphor. I look forward to seeing where you take this poem from here.

Keep writing,
Richard

(04-30-2017, 05:52 AM)JasonM. Wrote: [ -> ]Through the Layers.

I found myself falling the other day, not stumbling over a root of a tree, or loosing my step from the curve.
But like a lost aviator, stuck on autopilot, being ejected from high in the sky,
past the moon and the stars

I was 
Falling and
Falling and 
Falling.
At first I thought there was a punctuation error in L1. I can't understand if you are falling because of the root of the tree, or just falling in general, an action that has nothing to do with stumbling over a tree root. Then you move into a second sentence that makes the first line seem incomplete. 

Despite my nit-picky attitude, I think the introduction was beautiful. The lines are long, flowing, then you drop into the process of falling written as short lines. This is a very malleable, airy introduction that is not only interesting, but effortless. I always hate introductions because they come across as pretentious. This one is inviting. 

I'm going to be nit-picky for this stanza:
I thought I saw the ground coming,
but it's only just another cloud "Only" isn't justified. It can be removed. "Only" and "just" counteract each other, like "heated hotness" or "breezy wind". You just need "just". Also, "another" seems unnecessary. It's just a cloud... That's all. No other clouds have been introduced yet.  
brushing against my hot skin "Brushing" and "just" and "against" and "skin"... This is a musical area. I like it.
cooling me like a winter breeze People probably disagree with me, but I think "a" is unecessary. 
"cooling me like winter breeze"
in the middle of Florida day in July.
Soaking my clothes, cleansing my body and soul
like an Islamic man washing his hands in pure water before prayer. 

Falling and 
Falling and 
Falling. The repetition can stand as a bridge between separate scenes. I like the moody change coming at us as we fall with the words.

Maybe a parachute can swoop up all the air and create a violent jerk back to reality letting me get a clear yet confused look over the area
Is this supposed to sound panicked and overloaded? It's a run-on sentence with a lot going on, and that may be a representation of the feelings we have as we tumble through the earth's atmosphere, but... It's also confusing.
But I don't want that parachute to open. Why not? Falling is scary. 
I want my soul and heart to fuse and twist into a spiraling bomb towards the heart of the one that pushed me over.
I'm no political genius, and I'm no religious expert. I think because you've mentioned and Islamic man cleansing himself earlier, there is a context here that my educated mind is devoid of. So here I'm presented with an opportunity to learn. What I want to happen is for you to explain what enemies and sorrows you are referring to. When ignorant people read heartfelt, topical poetry, it's a frustrating process. We can't empathize with your anger and pain if we can't make the connections.

However, that is a personal problem of mine. Others who read this will most definitely understand the references you are making.
Destroying all surrounding enemies, threats and sorrows.
My flames will not be flames, and my shrapnel with not cut. 
What I get from this is that you are crying for an end to war and bigotry.

But,
I'm still falling and
Falling and
Falling Another bridge, and a time to breathe before the next emotional blow.

Opening my eyes, like a new born child, blind to my surrounds, instinctively letting out a cry, being grabbed by my hand and nestled in between.
More hectic thoughts in a very long line.
Feeling a new sensation of breath, noise and touch. I'm going to nitpick your choice of periods and sentence fragments. I think this line is an incomplete statement.
Until patted on my back when I forget to breath, looking up when my eyes un-cloud, seeing who has made me a victim 

I am falling You've stopped using punctuation now. This can be confusion to us.

Far from the ground, up into the sky,
Thrusters at full capacity and weight at maximum until reaching a hemisphere where I release my boosters,
strip my weight and become a small powerful ship
Containing my mind, to take me to further places 
My ignorance has been enlightened. I've had an epiphany that you are in a jet. 

I am falling.
Past the lands I once thought I discovered, when I was poked and prodded by a false prophet that stripped my lands and killed my village,
seeking my splendors but only wanting to sabotage my heritage. 
Remember when I was looking for references before? You gave me some more information here, so you can disregard my scrutiny before. 

I am falling. A constant descent. I like the repetition.
Past the lands I wanted to bunker in, where my bomb shelter laid full of my own pride, my own ideas, my own foolishness. 
I had all I wanted, the irresponsibility, the pleasures, yet; my soul was missing there and I was stuck trying to find it. 

I am falling.
Past the lands where you either hunt or be hunted.
Yet I came short on game and settled for rats and rabbits, containing no nutrients, having so substance. 

I have fallen. End.
To lands that are unknown.
The air is sweet, and my skin feels different.
My heart beats a different drum, and my soul flows through the air, greeting me with smiles and anticipation.

I'll read it again because you are a good writer. I wonder why the ending has become more pleasant. The descent was a little scary, but this new pocket of feelings at the end you show us... Have you died and become cleansed? Anyway, thank you for sharing this here.