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whatisay-whatifeel · 04-04-2016, 01:15 AM

The ash settled on the road which only seemed to be made of more ash,
and your thick worn boots created clouds as you tread
Moving the world just as you had moved hers

Head straight,
eyes focused,
locked onto something you weren't even sure was there
You continued counting your steps, forgetting where you left off,
for it felt as though you had stopped counting years ago

And the clouds you created settled again,
unnoticed and ephemeral
Only to be made anew with each advance

The soles of your feet stamping the ground,
branding a mark that would eventually fade
That would go unseen by travelers to come
(if they ever did come)
but had still once been there all the same

Your shoulders slumped with fatigue
A mix of ash and sweat glistened on your face
The blue of your fierce eyes muddled by the oppressive grey
Your clouds marked your progress as you made your way to a destination unknown,
in a world unknown and newly destroyed

And your hand felt heavy as you pressed it to your cheek,
remembering the touch that was once your everything
And you whispered the name that had subconsciously become your creed

You swore and punched the ground, releasing a scream that might as well have never parted your lips
one that remained unheard, unanswered, and had forced you to stop,
something you nearly ever did, fearing the relief of a demanded rest

You resumed counting your steps
the only act that had kept you sane,
but this time you swore they were infinite and had lost your place
A routine forever etched into your soul,
a mindless procedure that took all your strength,
lost just like everything else that was consumed by the flames

You never looked back
physically demanding what you mentally could not
Because even as hard as you tried, her eyes were forever your favorite sight
and your dreams demanded to see them
Demanded to recreate your heaven, leaving you to only wake in hell

But you kept moving,
your thick, worn boots dragging on the ground,
parting the ash as Moses had parted the Red Sea
The blue of your pining eyes glazed with the seen of unshed tears
And you finally confessed what you had suppressed all that time
That just because you never locked back, doesn't mean you've never lost

dukealien · 04-04-2016, 11:06 PM

(04-04-2016, 01:15 AM)whatisay-whatifeel Wrote:

The ash settled on the road which only seemed to be made of more ash,

and your thick worn boots created clouds as you tread

Moving the world just as you had moved hers

Head straight,

eyes focused,

locked onto something you weren't even sure was there

You continued counting your steps, forgetting where you left off,

for it felt as though you had stopped counting years ago

And the clouds you created settled again,

unnoticed and ephemeral

Only to be made anew with each advance

The soles of your feet stamping the ground,

branding a mark that would eventually fade

That would go unseen by travelers to come

(if they ever did come)

but had still once been there all the same

Your shoulders slumped with fatigue

A mix of ash and sweat glistened on your face

The blue of your fierce eyes muddled by the oppressive grey how would this look with both "the" removed?

Your clouds marked your progress as you made your way to a destination unknown,

in a world unknown and newly destroyed

And your hand felt heavy as you pressed it to your cheek,

remembering the touch that was once your everything

And you whispered the name that had subconsciously become your creed

You swore and punched the ground, releasing a scream that might as well have never parted your lips

one that remained unheard, unanswered, and had forced you to stop,

something you nearly ever did, fearing the relief of a demanded rest nearly never did?

You resumed counting your steps

the only act that had kept you sane,

but this time you swore they were infinite and had lost your place

A routine forever etched into your soul, could this do without "A"?

a mindless procedure that took all your strength,

lost just like everything else that was consumed by the flames strong line - could words be fewer?

You never looked back

physically demanding what you mentally could not

Because even as hard as you tried, her eyes were forever your favorite sight

and your dreams demanded to see them

Demanded to recreate your heaven, leaving you to only wake in hell

But you kept moving,

your thick, worn boots dragging on the ground,

parting the ash as Moses had parted the Red Sea

The blue of your pining eyes glazed with the seen of unshed tears the sheen of?

And you finally confessed what you had suppressed all that time

That just because you never locked back, doesn't mean you've never lost looked back?

Very moody, graphic, and challenging - none of which are bad things!

For example, some will find a repetitiveness here, but this amounts to showing rather than telling a monotonous experience; it works, IMHO, like describing the repetitive grind of life in a war zone: necessary to frame the terrifying parts.

The challenge was to find the story reference. To me, it's Lot trudging away from destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, mourning his wife who'd been metamorphsed to death for looking back on them (though I also considered, for a moment, astronauts on the moon wondering if any more would ever come).

On that reading, there are problems with the final stanza (LL39-44). Boots are OK - picture some form of Biblical buskins. But I believe Moses and the Red Sea were after Lot's time (could be wrong about that); if so, it's all one story and, as you say in the title, that which forms (Lot and his descendants). The other problems with the stanza are (I believe) typos: in L42 shouldn't it be "sheen of unshed tears" (nice alliteration, then), and in the last line, L44, "you never looked back?" Unfortunate place for a typo, but easy to fix.

In general, though the halting feel works with the mood, IMHO it could be a bit less wordy. I made a few suggestions above; for example (please forgive the rewrite), L33 could read something like, "lost like all else that was consumed by flames." Aggressively question each "the" and "a."

This is free verse, so punctuation is as you like. But I'd like to see periods at the ends of lines where the next line's first word is capitalized (and at the end of the last line), but that's a personal preference; it would make the reading a bit easier, IMHO.

Finally, and here I'm really reaching, I wondered as I read, it's so graphic and descriptive - what did the dust smell like? Think burnt timber and burnt pork chops, perhaps. Burnt bone, if you've visited a crematorium.

Good read! Liked it very much.

Erthona · 04-11-2016, 05:51 AM

This reads more like prose. There is nothing really for the reader to attach to either emotionally or intellectually. This scenario is devoid of any specifics that make the character or the scene seem real. In the end it is just a very long description held together by the effect of boots on dirt. Even were it descriptive, it is unlikely it would be very original as this is such overly covered ground. Love, love lost, et al. is never a good starting point for the novice. The one positive point, is this is not riddled with cliche, so points for that.

Synopsis: She left him or something happened to her, he refused to admit it and did things to pretend it hadn't happened, but eventually he had to admit she was gone. Love lost. A million poems written on the topic.

Maybe try something that is unique to you and lay off the heavy stuff, that's been done to death and it usually just leads to superficial sophomoric angst.
Poetry usually includes poetic tropes. Metaphor, extended metaphor, personification, alliteration, assonance, allusions: if not in formal verse, then it has a rhythmic underpinning which gives it the necessary energy to move along rather than sound like a monotone.
If it is a story, give the reader a reason to care about the character(s). Show don't tell.

Look forward to your next effort,

dale

homer1950 · 04-11-2016, 02:53 PM

(04-04-2016, 01:15 AM)whatisay-whatifeel Wrote: The ash settled on the road which only seemed to be made of more ash,
and your thick worn boots created clouds as you tread
Moving the world just as you had moved hers

Head straight,
eyes focused,
locked onto something you weren't even sure was there
You continued counting your steps, forgetting where you left off,
for it felt as though you had stopped counting years ago

And the clouds you created settled again,
unnoticed and ephemeral
Only to be made anew with each advance

The soles of your feet stamping the ground,
branding a mark that would eventually fade
That would go unseen by travelers to come
(if they ever did come)
but had still once been there all the same

Your shoulders slumped with fatigue
A mix of ash and sweat glistened on your face
The blue of your fierce eyes muddled by the oppressive grey
Your clouds marked your progress as you made your way to a destination unknown,
in a world unknown and newly destroyed

And your hand felt heavy as you pressed it to your cheek,
remembering the touch that was once your everything
And you whispered the name that had subconsciously become your creed

You swore and punched the ground, releasing a scream that might as well have never parted your lips
one that remained unheard, unanswered, and had forced you to stop,
something you nearly ever did, fearing the relief of a demanded rest

You resumed counting your steps
the only act that had kept you sane,
but this time you swore they were infinite and had lost your place
A routine forever etched into your soul,
a mindless procedure that took all your strength,
lost just like everything else that was consumed by the flames

You never looked back
physically demanding what you mentally could not
Because even as hard as you tried, her eyes were forever your favorite sight
and your dreams demanded to see them
Demanded to recreate your heaven, leaving you to only wake in hell

But you kept moving,
your thick, worn boots dragging on the ground,
parting the ash as Moses had parted the Red Sea
The blue of your pining eyes glazed with the seen of unshed tears
And you finally confessed what you had suppressed all that time
That just because you never locked back, doesn't mean you've never lost

When I read this I feel like I am reading a day in the life of.. The question then becomes I am I interested in that day, I see nothing here to hold my interest. As far as the frame work goes it too is found wanting, no meter to speak of and your lines are too long. I read some fairly good articles on this site last night. As this is a mild critique forum I believe steering you toward those articles would be best for now.

***Todd*** · 04-11-2016, 09:06 PM

Hi whatisay-whatifeel,

I like some of the imagery. There are a few areas that read like shorthand (i.e., fierce eyes, pining eyes, etc). The main problem I had with this one is that if doesn't have the emotional intensity and power to sustain its length. I think you need to go through the poem and ruthlessly edit it down to the essentials. Then you can begin turning to other aspects of the poem. Just my initial opinion. Hope it helps some.

Best,

Todd

(04-04-2016, 01:15 AM)whatisay-whatifeel Wrote: The ash settled on the road which only seemed to be made of more ash,
and your thick worn boots created clouds as you tread
Moving the world just as you had moved hers

Head straight,
eyes focused,
locked onto something you weren't even sure was there
You continued counting your steps, forgetting where you left off,
for it felt as though you had stopped counting years ago

And the clouds you created settled again,
unnoticed and ephemeral
Only to be made anew with each advance

The soles of your feet stamping the ground,
branding a mark that would eventually fade
That would go unseen by travelers to come
(if they ever did come)
but had still once been there all the same

Your shoulders slumped with fatigue
A mix of ash and sweat glistened on your face
The blue of your fierce eyes muddled by the oppressive grey
Your clouds marked your progress as you made your way to a destination unknown,
in a world unknown and newly destroyed

And your hand felt heavy as you pressed it to your cheek,
remembering the touch that was once your everything
And you whispered the name that had subconsciously become your creed

You swore and punched the ground, releasing a scream that might as well have never parted your lips
one that remained unheard, unanswered, and had forced you to stop,
something you nearly ever did, fearing the relief of a demanded rest

You resumed counting your steps
the only act that had kept you sane,
but this time you swore they were infinite and had lost your place
A routine forever etched into your soul,
a mindless procedure that took all your strength,
lost just like everything else that was consumed by the flames

You never looked back
physically demanding what you mentally could not
Because even as hard as you tried, her eyes were forever your favorite sight
and your dreams demanded to see them
Demanded to recreate your heaven, leaving you to only wake in hell

But you kept moving,
your thick, worn boots dragging on the ground,
parting the ash as Moses had parted the Red Sea
The blue of your pining eyes glazed with the seen of unshed tears
And you finally confessed what you had suppressed all that time
That just because you never locked back, doesn't mean you've never lost

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