The Wreckage, my life!

[VINTAGEM]

The wreckage, my life!

Chaos, enchantment at sea.
Waves billowing in a tide of emptiness.
Jaws dropping, a sight of wonderment eyes behold!
Gushes of water, an explosion of white waves.
Parchments of sea breeze filling lungs with pain.
 
A roulette of emotion, tied to nature so dangerous yet so exquisite.
A heart soaring to experiment with unknown sights.
Ears seeking salvation, from the echoes of a rescue ship.
A silence that seemingly fills the earth my ears behold.
Lost in an island, tidings not heard of for miles.
It’s a lost course, a beautiful torment.
Deliberations fill the mind as to what ought to be done?
When hunger pangs, start to shout a melody so carefree yet tormenting.
A keeper’s finders to treasures unknown.
 
A life well lived, a storm and a wreckage it shall seem.
A pound of flesh given to keep the pangs at bay.
The beauty of it all despite the toils, pain and loss.
Gushes of emotion an outpour of life’s beauty
My eyes old and wise know the silence is His presence always.
Near the end awaiting salvation, true life treasures I find.
Billowing in a tide, a post of lamented days.
A beauty surreal and precious my life…

[tectak]

OK, happy new year. Hell, this is angsty...borderline man overboard. To be honest and kind at the same time is not going to be easy and so as this IS the workshopping forum I shall be honest. Prime problem...you are trying way too hard to be poetic. There are so many "devices" all going off at once that the whole thing has just been reduced to a shambles. Line by line for suggestions.

The wreckage, my life! No other way to say this, but exclamation marks indicate that you think you have said something which you BELIEVE is exciting but you want me to believe it to. I don't. It is just not the way it is. Cool it down. We get it. Call it "Wreckage" and then write the bloody poem. 

Chaos, enchantment at sea.No idea how you can link these two stark UNLINKED paraphrases. What does it mean...let me think, nope...nothing. You are ONLY looking at the words....look at the MEANING.
Waves billowing in a tide of emptiness.Mixed metaphors are the bane of poets wishing to be poets...believe me, I've been there and will go there again. I just KNOW this will all end up in gooey cliches but you cannot fool me....just linking wave/billow/tide/ emptiness leads to this. See what you think. " Tides billowing in a wave of emptiness/Tidal waves billowing in emptiness"....etc etc. It is all just too edgy. You are not showing me what you are seeing. It is just statement on statement then we are at sea.   
Jaws dropping, a sight of wonderment eyes behold!Who's jaws...you are not alone, then? "Here come the biggies..."sight of wonderment"....wha? Is this from some biblical passage that I have beheld it before? Drop the arcane stuff. We don't talk like that any more...maybe the poets of the 18th century have overcome you.  
Gushes of water, an explosion of white waves.Yes, water DOES gush but so what...and white waves...where have I seen that before...oh, pretty well everywhere. OK . Enough of the rough stuff. This first stanza tells me very little of what the hell is going on and it does not encourage me to find out. Start the thing with a plan. If it's gotta be the agony of life then so be it, but I warn you, it has been done to death. Try to PERSONALISE your innermost feelings and don't be afraid to kick ass. If you are pissed by life, rant about it BUT make me angry on your behalf. You will not do it with hyperbole, cliche or utter disregard for form, fluidity and obscurity. I have no idea what it is that you are trying to impart, in spite of the randomising of thoughts...we have gone from tides and water spouts to "parchments of sea breeze", whatever that is, getting in to you lungs and hurting. Wha? Whu?
Parchments of sea breeze filling lungs with pain.
 
A roulette of emotion, tied to nature so dangerous yet so exquisite.Now this stanza is in free-fall BUT as a storehouse of ideas you may be able to make something outof it. Think PLAN, think SIMPLE, think IMAGERY...but most of all, think CLARITY. See next line.
A heart soaring to experiment with unknown sights.First of all, I look at the imagery in this line. A soaring heart is patently emotional not literal. How does a soaring heart experiment with UNKNOWN sights. It is just too silly. Bring clarity back. "My heart soars with anticipation of unknown delights..." is me making sense of you making no sense. Now you write it with you making sense.
Ears seeking salvation, from the echoes of a rescue ship.For Pete's sake, how the hell does a ship echo, especially when in the VERY NEXT LINE you are in some muddled silence made of EARTH...EARTH?...behind your all seeing (Behold, again, I say unto you)ears?????
A silence that seemingly fills the earth my ears behold.
Lost in an island, tidings not heard of for miles.In or on. It matters not. I was still at sea...oh, next line, we ARE at sea again...but off course, of course. This is going no where and I am beginning to hate myself. Can you just go back to the earlier comments and CONCENTRATE on the essence of the piece.
It’s a lost course, a beautiful torment.
Deliberations fill the mind as to what ought to be done?Nonsense
When hunger pangs, start to shout a melody so carefree yet tormenting.Nonsense
A keeper’s finders to treasures unknown.Gobbledygook
 
A life well lived, a storm and a wreckage it shall seem.
A pound of flesh given to keep the pangs at bay.Here come the funeral procession of mourning cliches...pound of flesh. Give me strength.
The beauty of it all despite the toils, pain and loss.Pain and loss oh woe is me...what the hell is so bad in this life. I don't see any problem....in fact, that's it...you haven't said what's wrong...yippeee. Now you can write it again.
Gushes of emotion an outpour of life’s beautySorry, but I have run out of bad words....so have you. You are gushing again
My eyes old and wise know the silence is His presence always.Why, who he? Is it you left eye that is old and your right that is wise...sorry, that was flippant...but how the hell did your god get in to this. Is this the bugger that stranded you at sea and gushed water at you and billowed your waves and tormented you beautifully and wrecked your life? ...and the same brings you silence? Are you sure about that? Hell, I would be RAGING mad at what he has done. Let it rip.
Near the end awaiting salvation, true life treasures I find.
Billowing in a tide, a post of lamented days...and billowing again....
A beauty surreal and precious my life…Yuk yukitty yuk yuk....yuk yuk

Harsh? Yep. But seriously, this is in need of tightening. It cannot be done by re-arranging some words. It is the expression of the idea that is contorted. You WANT to be poetic but you MUST have a way of passing on your emotions not just dealing up words that seem to be germane but which are largely misinterpretable. This one line, "Deliberations fill the mind as to what ought to be done" sums it up.
Very best,
 tectak

[Brownlie]

I like you because you commented on my dribble.

The wreckage, my life!

Chaos, enchantment at sea. -- Chaos= I think of inchoate crap. Like the stuff before the light of the word and whatnot in a mythical sense. So I sort of get the churning tide of emptiness. 
Waves billowing in a tide of emptiness. -- "of emptiness" doesn't jive with me. It's like saying the burdened cankles of love. 
Jaws dropping, a sight of wonderment eyes behold! -- Shouldn't need jaws dropping and a sight of wonderment. That's redundant!
Gushes of water, an explosion of white waves. -- The "ofs" seem cumbersome.
Parchments of sea breeze filling lungs with pain. -- Pain seems way too abstract. I can call on pity by saying pain, but skeptical people would be pissed off if I didn't justify the abstraction. 
 
A roulette of emotion, tied to nature so dangerous yet so exquisite. -- Another "of" plus 2 "so" in this line. Clean up needed.
A heart soaring to experiment with unknown sights. -- Too abstract. Would also avoid phrases like "heart soaring," which may seem cloying to bitter adjuncts reading poems. 
Ears seeking salvation, from the echoes of a rescue ship.
A silence that seemingly fills the earth my ears behold. -- Is "my ears behold" an inversion? Plus ears don't behold, they hear stuff usually.
Lost in an island, tidings not heard of for miles.
It’s a lost course, a beautiful torment.
Deliberations fill the mind as to what ought to be done?
When hunger pangs, start to shout a melody so carefree yet tormenting.
A keeper’s finders to treasures unknown.
 
A life well lived, a storm and a wreckage it shall seem.
A pound of flesh given to keep the pangs at bay. -- Shylock wants his lox on the Goldbergs.
The beauty of it all despite the toils, pain and loss. -- This line is cliched sort. At this point, readers must discover beauty in the face of pain. You can't tell them and make it so. Unless your John Mellencamp and singing hurts so good. 
Gushes of emotion an outpour of life’s beauty -- an outpour of life's beauty is too cloying. 
My eyes old and wise know the silence is His presence always.
Near the end awaiting salvation, true life treasures I find. -- I find life's true pleasures would be better even if you sacrifice meter IMO.
Billowing in a tide, a post of lamented days.
A beauty surreal and precious my life…

I can't think straight right now, and I turned on hurts so good before I finished critiquing. That being said, I like chaos and roulette in the same poem. Its like the mariner or something. Thanks!

[rollingbrianjones]

Wanted to comment on this as I had a single strong thought in terms of future work/improvement, as I did take understanding from this.

My comment shall be brief as tektak's criticism effectively covered all of my thoughts, so there is not much I can say.
Though if it gives you any encouragement, despite much agreement, I felt this is not quite as bad as is accused.
I'd have given much the same criticism just perhaps not in quite such a disheartening way... I'ma far better critic than I am a writer... but a word for word would lead to me doing the same tearing apart exercise as has already been put down here.

So yeah, my single thought/comment... write about the wreckage that you tell me is your life in a way that on paper portrays a wreckage. Don't obviously overwrite, that doesn't portray wreckage. Trying too hard and coming up with obvious, perhaps well written but unoriginal phrases doesn't give me wreckage either. Neither do the cliches I shall say no more about as the previous comment dissects them quite perfectly.

Hope you are not disheartened as I think tektak was a bit harsh, despite touching a lot of truth- but put the same effort you did into whatever you think this is, into writing something original, into writing something different, raw and disjointed- and you may just see improvement and words that provide more interest and less eye rolls from regular readers of poetry.

RBJ