Untitled 1
Black tides roll over the beach as hearts collide with a black hole to create nothing inside of everything, reminds me of the way you breathe. Heavy with the toxins, my skin feels as if it is peeling off like the leaves that fall from the trees in autumn. The dead wind howls, I hear your heart but I am deafened by your voice crying out for someone to love. Watch the pendulum on the clock break the glass between the space of time, the echoes do not sound but the layers of scars will show.
The black hole, the toxins, the breath. They are the content. The idea and emotion are in the nothing in everything. The scenes everywhere and nowhere make a broken glass sense: but it's something the person reading it brings to it from far away. Broken reflections. I see that; but many people will see a flow of disconnected poetic attempts. There might be some immanating-adhesive to infect it all with one floorplan, and you could study it for that center.
(08-09-2020, 08:05 AM)rowens Wrote: [ -> ]The black hole, the toxins, the breath. They are the content. The idea and emotion are in the nothing in everything. The scenes everywhere and nowhere make a broken glass sense: but it's something the person reading it brings to it from far away. Broken reflections. I see that; but many people will see a flow of disconnected poetic attempts. There might be some immanating-adhesive to infect it all with one floorplan, and you could study it for that center.
I’m happy that you can put it all together, I have had a couple people tell me that they don’t really see any path when I write at times, or even understand why i write something in a certain way. I also thank you for taking your own time to read my old write, I was only about 14 when I decided to create this little piece so it’s not my best attempt.
(08-09-2020, 04:01 PM)Youngpoetdreams Wrote: [ -> ] (08-09-2020, 08:05 AM)rowens Wrote: [ -> ]The black hole, the toxins, the breath. They are the content. The idea and emotion are in the nothing in everything. The scenes everywhere and nowhere make a broken glass sense: but it's something the person reading it brings to it from far away. Broken reflections. I see that; but many people will see a flow of disconnected poetic attempts. There might be some immanating-adhesive to infect it all with one floorplan, and you could study it for that center.
I’m happy that you can put it all together, I have had a couple people tell me that they don’t really see any path when I write at times, or even understand why i write something in a certain way. I also thank you for taking your own time to read my old write, I was only about 14 when I decided to create this little piece so it’s not my best attempt.
How old are you now?
The crit you get as an adult is different than the crit you get as a non adult
(08-09-2020, 05:02 PM)busker Wrote: [ -> ] (08-09-2020, 04:01 PM)Youngpoetdreams Wrote: [ -> ] (08-09-2020, 08:05 AM)rowens Wrote: [ -> ]The black hole, the toxins, the breath. They are the content. The idea and emotion are in the nothing in everything. The scenes everywhere and nowhere make a broken glass sense: but it's something the person reading it brings to it from far away. Broken reflections. I see that; but many people will see a flow of disconnected poetic attempts. There might be some immanating-adhesive to infect it all with one floorplan, and you could study it for that center.
I’m happy that you can put it all together, I have had a couple people tell me that they don’t really see any path when I write at times, or even understand why i write something in a certain way. I also thank you for taking your own time to read my old write, I was only about 14 when I decided to create this little piece so it’s not my best attempt.
How old are you now?
The crit you get as an adult is different than the crit you get as a non adult
I just turned 18 a couple months ago
(08-08-2020, 11:19 AM)Youngpoetdreams Wrote: [ -> ]Untitled 1
Black tides roll over the beach as hearts collide with a black hole to create nothing inside of everything, reminds me of the way you breathe. Heavy with the toxins, my skin feels as if it is peeling off like the leaves that fall from the trees in autumn. The dead wind howls, I hear your heart but I am deafened by your voice crying out for someone to love. Watch the pendulum on the clock break the glass between the space of time, the echoes do not sound but the layers of scars will show.
There are prose poems and there is free verse. And then there is just plain boring old prose. This is plain boring old prose.
Apart from the cliches of leaves falling from trees, there's also the hackneyed 'howling' of a 'dead' wind. Why is the wind dead? Replace the 'dead' with 'colourblind' and it is just as nonsensical.
In summary, this is a woe is me journal entry, not a serious poem.
(08-09-2020, 05:10 PM)Youngpoetdreams Wrote: [ -> ] (08-09-2020, 05:02 PM)busker Wrote: [ -> ] (08-09-2020, 04:01 PM)Youngpoetdreams Wrote: [ -> ]I’m happy that you can put it all together, I have had a couple people tell me that they don’t really see any path when I write at times, or even understand why i write something in a certain way. I also thank you for taking your own time to read my old write, I was only about 14 when I decided to create this little piece so it’s not my best attempt.
How old are you now?
The crit you get as an adult is different than the crit you get as a non adult
I just turned 18 a couple months ago
I would suggest a few attempts at formal, metrical poetry to sharpen the saw before you turn to free verse
I agree with both busker and rowen. I do really enjoy a few phrases/images, particularly “nothing inside of everything,” the glass breaking on the clock, “the echos do not sound.” Perhaps you could rewrite the poem in a way that recenters it around vacancy, both in tone and content—nothing inside of everything. Keep up the good work.