Remember the Sun

[tigrflye]

Edited:
I walk through black sludge
that clings to my feet with grit,
bites my weary sole,
and implores me to relent.

The gray clouds convulse,
churning anger and sorrow
to pelt my soft flesh,
and wash all color away. 

Dull lightning appears.
Charcoal streaks the oily sky,
soundless and lonely,
forsaken without thunder.

Softly, I whisper
appeals that might go unheard.
For months unending,
tomorrow will be today.

Trudge on sluggish knees
across despair dark as crows.
No, I will not cry:
I still remember the sun.

Original:
I walk through black sludge
That clings to my feet with haste,
Bites my weary sole,
And beckons me to relent.

The gray clouds simmer,
Churning anger and sorrow
To pelt my soft flesh,
And wash all color away.

Dull lightning appears.
Charcoal streaks the oily sky,
Soundless and lonely,
Forsaken without thunder.

Softly, I whisper
Appeals that might go unheard.
For months unending,
Tomorrow will be today.

Trudge on sluggish knees
Across despair black as crows.
No, I will not cry,
For I remember the sun.

[Leanne]

You have some quite evocative images and you build the dark mood well, ending on a determinedly bright and hopeful note. There are a few phrases that could do with some work.

I walk through black sludge
That clings to my feet with haste, -- I'm afraid I can't reconcile the idea of sludge, which is viscous, clinging with "haste" -- you might consider leaving this line out altogether
Bites my weary sole,
And beckons me to relent. -- there is probably a better word than "beckons", which implies a gesture of some sort -- since you've already given the sludge teeth, giving it hands is really a step too far

The gray clouds simmer,
Churning anger and sorrow -- do they simmer or churn? One is quite a gentle action, the other violent
To pelt my soft flesh,
And wash all color away.

Dull lightning appears. -- I don't think this is a strong enough paradox to bother with. Personally, I'd drop this line and start with the next, maybe add in "charcoal lightning"
Charcoal streaks the oily sky,
Soundless and lonely,
Forsaken without thunder.

Softly, I whisper
Appeals that might go unheard. -- "might" is too low a modality, I'd make this more definite
For months unending,
Tomorrow will be today.

Trudge on sluggish knees
Across despair black as crows. -- bit of a cliche here
No, I will not cry,
For I remember the sun. -- nice idea, maybe strengthened by a colon after cry and dropping "for"

[tigrflye]

Leanne,
I love your critique. Thank you so much. I do honestly want your opinion. Any and all opinions.
So far, my sludge entity, in my imagination is going to keep its menacing ability to claw, gesture, bite and possibly curse. Haha.But I am willing to slow it down. Fast sludge would be just crazy. Haha.. replacing haste..with.. grit? (Like determination)
Also, I do hear you about simmer and churn. Perhaps seethe and churn go together better?
I was trying to break away from rhyme. This is my first (somewhat finished) non rhyming poem. I instead went for a 5 syllable, 7 syllable, 5 syllable frame which makes it a bit more difficult to just drop the "for".

Yes, you are very right about "despair black as crows" being a bit cliche.. sigh. I discarded black as night. Black as ink. Black as..? Death? Space? I settled with crows because they represent all that is bleak and that is possibly not the right choice. Maybe it will come to me miraculously. Or if you have an opinion on a replacement one-syllable word, please share. (Death, space, hell, hate, doom)

[ellajam]

Hi, tigr, I really enjoyed your edit. I think your small changes really improved the poem and smoothed out places that were rough in the original. Great job of not changing too much.

I'm also a fan of 5,7 lines, and struggle with adding extra words for the sake of the form. I would love to see you address some of Leanne's other points, black crows and for at the end. I think you have the potential to come up with something that works.

Thanks for the read.

Edited:
I walk through black sludge
That clings to my feet with grit,
Bites my weary sole,
And implores me to relent.

The gray clouds convulse,
Churning anger and sorrow
To pelt my soft flesh,
And wash all color away. 

Dull lightning appears.
Charcoal streaks the oily sky,
Soundless and lonely,
Forsaken without thunder.

Softly, I whisper
Appeals that might go unheard.
For months unending,
Tomorrow will be today.

Trudge on sluggish knees
Across despair black as crows.
No, I will not cry:
For I remember the sun.

Original:
I walk through black sludge
That clings to my feet with haste,
Bites my weary sole,
And beckons me to relent.

The gray clouds simmer,
Churning anger and sorrow
To pelt my soft flesh,
And wash all color away.

Dull lightning appears.
Charcoal streaks the oily sky,
Soundless and lonely,
Forsaken without thunder.

Softly, I whisper
Appeals that might go unheard.
For months unending,
Tomorrow will be today.

Trudge on sluggish knees
Across despair black as crows.
No, I will not cry,
For I remember the sun.

[ChristopherSea]

Hi tigrflye, some thoughts about your poem:

I walk through black sludge
that clings to my feet with grit,
bites my weary sole, *if referring to feet, make it soles, unless you mean soul, but that would be a bad pun*
and implores me to relent.

The gray clouds convulse,
churning anger and sorrow
to pelt my soft flesh,
and wash all color away. *hence, the black and white*

Dull lightning appears.
Charcoal streaks the oily sky,
soundless and lonely,
forsaken without thunder. *lonely, forsaken is redundant, maybe something like ‘silenced’

Softly, I whisper
appeals that might go unheard.
For months unending,
tomorrow will be today.

Trudge on sluggish knees
across despair black as crows. *this has become cliché. (dark, ebony, blank, colorless as crows or anything other than black)*
No, I will not cry:
I still remember the sun.


Hi tigrflye. I like the shades of gray herein. I would change the title, so as to not give away the punchline. I find all caps a bit troublesome for readers, yes I know, all the masters did it, which makes it archaic as well. I actually had to change them to give you a fair read. Nonetheless, I like this sketch in charcoals with that promise of color at the end. Nice job! Hope this helps in some fashion. All the best in poetry./Chris

[tigrflye]

Chris,
Thank you. I only recently learned that all caps starting each line is taboo. I will change that.
Sole.. yes I mean the feet.. however, I enjoy the hidden cliche/double meaning of writing sole when I also mean soul. And I believe I narrowly escape the cliche with "sole". ? Eh. I kinda enjoyed picturing the reader thinking.."does she mean sole? Or soul?" Why yes I do.
"Black as crows"..cliche..yes, I have been struggling because I didn't want to lose the image of the crow..but why not just change the word "black"? Ah ha! It was so obvious - thanks for pointing out what I should have been able to see.