Digging from the roots up

[Eluoh]

I don't know--
Perhaps they could have done a little more,
felt a little more, shivered a little more
at the sound of the desperate call of the early morning;
that ghost-bitten yawn of life before the life of those
who refused to wake.
They cripple and harvest the roots
in search of something with appeal;
orphaning the dry field,
and you,
the dry field, bear no good soil for
those farmers and hounds of Thoreau
who lounge in their tacky suits with
god-like mouths.  

You found the grave of yourself under the overgrown
moon and howling fog, and beneath the beating of no heart cried
"Alive,
alive,
alive!"
in spite of the thickening thorns in your side,
in spite of the masses defecating in your good eyes,
in spite of the life you acquired at death's bedside.

[Wjames]

I don't know--
Perhaps they could have done a little more,
felt a little more, shivered a little more
at the sound of the desperate call of the early morning;
that ghost-bitten yawn of life before the life of those
who refused to wake.
They cripple and harvest the roots
in search of something with appeal; I'd like to have some idea of who "they" are by now. Everything seems specifically vague if that makes sense. It definitely sounds really nice when read aloud, but its hard to form a cohesive image/idea/sequence of events up to this point.
orphaning the dry field,
and you,
the dry field, bear no good soil for
those farmers and hounds of Thoreau
who lounge in their tacky suits with
god-like mouths. I've never read Thoreau, so that may impact my lack of understanding of some of the stuff (its hard for me to compare a mouth to a god).  I still didn't really understand what was going on my first time through it at this point. I think everything in here works in its own way for the poem as a whole, but that going all this way without really understanding whats being said is arduous and might make some readers give up.

You found the grave of yourself under the overgrown
moon and howling fog, and beneath the beating of no heart cried
"Alive,
alive,
alive!"
in spite of the thickening thorns in your side,
in spite of the masses defecating in your good eyes, I don't think you need good here - I also don't understand what this is a metaphor for other than people doing something bad (if it is a metaphor).
in spite of the life you acquired at death's bedside. After reading this last stanza, the rest of the poem makes much more sense, but there's still plenty of things I'm unsure of. I think "they" are people with a passion for life of some sort, but what is really different between "they" and say, "them" (perhaps the fact there's no difference in their final outcome is some sort of point)? I also don't know what sort of life was acquired at death's bedside, so I think you could improve the ending.

I like the way it sounds, it reads really smoothly for the most part, but again, it leaves the reader in the dark for a long time before becoming clear (and there are still small details that like "tacky suits" and the defecating line that are unclear). Hopefully my ramblings are of some use to you.

Edit:
Scratch what I said about the last line, I like it a lot. Five seconds after posting this I believe I "got" the meaning of the last line - once people are close to death they realize how much they value everything they have. That was partly my own stupidity, and partly the fact it could be made clearer throughout the rest of the poem. Of course, by giving more detail earlier on you could ruin that "aha!" moment, so its a little bit of a balancing act I guess.

As an alternative, you could cut a bit from the first stanza so that there's less of a wait in the dark before everything "clicks" together. Or do nothing, because you like it the way it is. All the best,

WJ

[billy]

this sounds silly but i like the poem even though i'm not sure what it's about.  at present it feels just a little too ambiguous. my take is that it's about a relationship that's died, it's the they i'm not getting. and i'm presuming there's an extended metaphor at play. in  non-lateral way it has connotations of sex but that could just be my sick mind.

at the sound of the desperate call of the early morning;
that ghost-bitten yawn of life before the life of those

i think the above lines could be tightened up with a little work and still say the same thing.

wish i could have seen more into the poem.

I don't know--
Perhaps they could have done a little more,
felt a little more, shivered a little more
at the sound of the desperate call of the early morning;
that ghost-bitten yawn of life before the life of those
who refused to wake.
They cripple and harvest the roots
in search of something with appeal;
orphaning the dry field,
and you,
the dry field, bear no good soil for
those farmers and hounds of Thoreau
who lounge in their tacky suits with
god-like mouths.  

You found the grave of yourself under the overgrown
moon and howling fog, and beneath the beating of no heart cried
"Alive,
alive,
alive!"
in spite of the thickening thorns in your side,
in spite of the masses defecating in your good eyes,
in spite of the life you acquired at death's bedside.