07-29-2021, 11:32 AM
(07-24-2021, 08:02 AM)Brian Roberts Wrote: The sun is hatched, its yoke half-bared, (The metaphor "sun is hatched" fits nicely with this poem, good start!)Hmm, I think there might be something really clever about this piece, mostly something to do with the choice of words. My mentioning of what the rest of the poem means is beyond my understanding but good luck in publishing this.
corralling minions from their roost, (Interesting, I like "yoke half bared")
That tarp of dark hung grand to spare
the flooded eye from light's dour truth.
Decamp, and rouse a pliant stem- (Creative, my advice is to get rid of the hyphen)
I suckle on paralysis, (How can you suckle on paralysis? What does that mean?)
and tithing to the poppy's phlegm, (Phlegm? Do you mean snot? Or some kind of sickness from the nose?)
On teats of steel my soul subsists.
I would not fling this solar cyst
into Inferno's deepest pit (What does this mean? Is there a meaning behind this?)

