Struggling, I Swim.

[Euan]

I swim,
through her coldness
my wish; wash me clean.
My conscience, too.
Sorrow illuminated,
by the dwindling evening sun.

I've never wanted to hide
her destructive power
doesn't phase me.
To lose me, is to lose her strength.
Grief, is the anguish that sways
the rippling waters to my touch.

Breathing heavily,
wading through her
for a moment of clarity
I thought I'd escape
for a little while.
Drink
and sing
to drown him out.

Not here,
no.
Here, it is worse.
The screams are louder.
They're the restlessness
her stillness conceals.

Remembering her jagged edge,
rigid
and cruel.
Gripping my shoulders,
and pulling me under
forcing me into the cliff face
tearing my body to bloody ribbons.
pulled free to air
and ripped into the cold again.

Her,
were she to kiss me again,
to have another taste
without doubt, she'd bleed me dry

[billy]

hi euan, not read the poem yet but did catch the first line An Ocean of grief one of the worst things a poet can do besides flashing as a copper, is start a poem with a chunky cliche, so i would suggest looking for and changing all the cliche for stuff that's original. ; it also verges on yoda-speak. a valley of death, i walk... , i know the i like is only part of a phrase so you can remedy it by moving 'i peak down to the next line.

i do like the poem but me liking it doesn't make it a good poem, i like the voracity of the thing. the dashing against cliff violence but i'm more making it up in my head than i am getting it from the words. you tell a little but not enough.

An Ocean of grief, I swim. a suggestion
An Ocean of grief, show us the grief
I swim her coldness
Her coldness still here
my wish; wash me clean,
my conscience, too.
Sorrow illuminated,
by the dwindling evening sun.

I've never wanted to hide
her destructive power
doesn't phase me.
To lose me, is to lose her strength.
Grief, is the anguish that sways
the rippling waters to my touch.

Breathing heavily,
wading through her
for a moment of clarity
I thought I'd escape
for a little while.
Drink
and sing
to drown him out.

Not here,
no.
Here, it is worse.
The screams are louder.
They're the restlessness
her stillness conceals.

Remembering her jagged edge,
rigid
and cruel.
Gripping my shoulders,
and pulling me under
forcing me into the cliff face
tearing my body to bloody ribbons.
pulled free to air
and ripped into the cold again.

Her,
were she to kiss me again,
to have another taste
without doubt, she'd bleed me dry

[Euan]

Thanks for the heads up Billy, fixed.

Yeah, I know it's vague. I'm trying (and failing) to convey my emotions without giving anything away, I think I need to piece my poem together just as it's flying over a reader's head.

It's a delicate art.

[milo]

I swim,
through her coldness
my wish; wash me clean.
My conscience, too.
Sorrow illuminated,
by the dwindling evening sun.

I've never wanted to hide
her destructive power
doesn't phase me.
To lose me, is to lose her strength.
Grief, is the anguish that sways
the rippling waters to my touch.

Breathing heavily,
wading through her
for a moment of clarity
I thought I'd escape
for a little while.
Drink
and sing
to drown him out.

Not here,
no.
Here, it is worse.
The screams are louder.
They're the restlessness
her stillness conceals.

Remembering her jagged edge,
rigid
and cruel.
Gripping my shoulders,
and pulling me under
forcing me into the cliff face
tearing my body to bloody ribbons.
pulled free to air
and ripped into the cold again.

Her,
were she to kiss me again,
to have another taste
without doubt, she'd bleed me dry

honestly, I find this poem a mess. The lines are a disaster, abstraction (and pointless, incohesive abstraction) is just littered everywhere. If that were not enough, there is cliche, over contrivance, grammar errors, faux-poetics, etc. It is a chore to read through it.

My suggestion would be to figure out what you really want to communicate with this first, state it as simply as possible and then build your imagery around that using as little abstraction as possible.

Thanks for posting.

[tectak]

I swim,
through her coldness
my wish; wash me clean.
My conscience, too.
Sorrow illuminated,
by the dwindling evening sun.

I've never wanted to hide
her destructive power
doesn't phase me.
To lose me, is to lose her strength.
Grief, is the anguish that sways
the rippling waters to my touch.

Breathing heavily,
wading through her
for a moment of clarity
I thought I'd escape
for a little while.
Drink
and sing
to drown him out.

Not here,
no.
Here, it is worse.
The screams are louder.
They're the restlessness
her stillness conceals.

Remembering her jagged edge,
rigid
and cruel.
Gripping my shoulders,
and pulling me under
forcing me into the cliff face
tearing my body to bloody ribbons.
pulled free to air
and ripped into the cold again.

Her,
were she to kiss me again,
to have another taste
without doubt, she'd bleed me dry

Hi euan,
Well, this is a smorgasbord. I want to eat it all but there are way too many things on offer. I could end up with indigestion. You need to refine your presentation. Pick a course and make it tempt me. This is everything at once and it just does not work.
I will not talk technicalities.
Cleanse your poetic palate and get to the core issues. My metaphor has run out. You need to get one...a central theme to dance around.
Best,
tectak