Senseless Remorse

[Andrias]

Senseless Remorse:
 
Don't tell me which door to love more.
Thank the shelf from which I whore myself
Off an awkward cliff hanging by a loose thread
A reckless noose wrapped around my head
 
What do we do when the guests have gone
belly up in their own muck?
Castrating their breasts so long, too long
after they're shit out of luck.
 
Lying in halls too cramped to see,
the end of the tunnel fast approaching me.
Legless spiders frowning on closet stalls,
bodies swallowed by the drain of an empty sea.
 
The prophets writing is on the walls, graffiti
sighing, shifting curtains of a crime scene.
The victims all blame each other,
pointing fingers at their own discretion,
while laughing and turning tricks at me!

[QDeathstar]

Senseless Remorse:
 
Don't tell me which door to love more.
Thank the shelf from which I whore myself
Off an awkward cliff hanging by a loose thread
A reckless noose wrapped around my head

it's annoying when people use a whole bunch of fonts and colors and sizes when they don't need to. Maybe the forum is doing it, but all the code makes it hard to critique.

The title is interesting. It's probably this poems main source of redemption. The first stanza starts off with some interesting imagery which just doesn't ever come together. The opening line feels disconnected from the rest of the stanza and with no sense of reason, using the word whore comes off at a cheap shot at shock.

 
What do we do when the guests have gone
belly up in their own muck?
Castrating their breasts so long, too long
after they're shit out of luck.
 

for whatever reason, you decide to go all singy songy. Castrating their beasts, I can only guess, is an attempt to be clever but honestly I cannot make sense of of it. I'm sure you have original thoughts, but it's kind of hard to see them past the tired shit out of luck phrase. I am personally ok with questions in poetry, but I don't think the reader is given a reason to care.


Lying in halls too cramped to see,
the end of the tunnel fast approaching me.
Legless spiders frowning on closet stalls,
bodies swallowed by the drain of an empty sea.
 

three rhymes in a row but why, but what happened with stalls. Rhyming see with sea is almost funny. Most of the phrasing here is nonsensical.

The prophets writing is on the walls, graffiti
sighing, shifting curtains of a crime scene.
The victims all blame each other,
pointing fingers at their own discretion,
while laughing and turning tricks at me!

I'm trying to make sense of the whore references, and I've been wrong before, but I just don't see enough here for it all to make sense. If you've heard it a lot before there is no use in pasting it into your piece, that's softcore plagiarism.

I might would outline, in basic form, what I want to say. Then edit in the poetry. because right now I'm afraid the message isn't clear.

thanks.

[mitsuch]

Uh, a grasping title as Pdeath said, however I found the entire poem disconnected from itself. The different Stanzas dont seem to link up mostly due to some of the phrasing which makes no sense to me. Plus the overuse of striking wording has made it seem cheap and seem like you're trying too hard to add the element of shock. Plus there is a grammatical error which I have pointed out down below. Lastly, some of the lines are very generic and cliched, been there done that types. I'd suggest using better, but lighter, wording to phrase it and look it over once to make sure it doesn't come off in any way that you aren't intending it to. Some lines however I did like, I have pointed them out.

Senseless Remorse:
 
Don't tell me which door to love more.
Thank the shelf from which I whore myself
Off an awkward cliff hanging by a loose thread
A reckless noose wrapped around my head
 
What do we do when the guests have gone
belly up in their own muck?
Castrating their breasts so long, too long
after they're shit out of luck.
 
Lying in halls too cramped to see,
the end of the tunnel fast approaching me.
Legless spiders frowning on closet stalls, - Couldn't make head or tail of this.
bodies swallowed by the drain of an empty sea.
 
The prophets writing is on the walls, graffiti - prophet's*
sighing, shifting curtains of a crime scene.
The victims all blame each other,
pointing fingers at their own discretion, - I like this line.
while laughing and turning tricks at me!