finally, a peace of mind

[headybeach]

there are some brief moments in time
where my anxieties simply wash over me.
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom. 
 
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming.
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now,
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together,
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind. 

but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say.
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either,
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me. 

because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull,
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums,
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours,
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm
as it calmly rests inside of mine. 

but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had.

and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there,
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind.
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart. 

but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in.

[Richard]

Hey headybeach,
Your poem had some wonderful language use throughout. However, there are some parts where you were a bit unclear. I'll explain more below:

there are some brief moments in time
where my anxieties simply wash over me. -Why do you have a period but no capital letter to start the sentence? Personally, I would drop all the periods, but that might just be me expressing my own poetic bias when it comes to grammar.
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom. -I like the last five lines in this stanza. My only question is if the narrator's anxieties are like a shower, what is being washed away?
 
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming.
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now, -I would end this line at "you."
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together, -The "forever inevitably fleeting calmness" has a nice sound to it. However, are you talking about the movie scenes, or the memories the speaker has for their lost lover? I think you got a good image here, but you need to explore it more. 
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind. -Fearful of what? This is an idea you should explore more.

but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do -I would drop previous line and start this line with "but".
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say.
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either,
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me. -I like this stanza. It has a paradoxical nature that is just wonderful.

because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull, -Referring to their head as a "vacant skull" is a bit harsh for the speaker.
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums, -May be I am missing something, but how can fog hum?
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours,
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm
as it calmly rests inside of mine. -I love these last four lines. The imagery and metaphor is wonderful. I would think about working these lines into their own stanza.

but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons, What are the "outside reasons"? I think you should explore this more.
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all. -This line and the previous gave me the impression that the speaker may have being lying to themselves about there even truly being a romantic relationship. Am I right?
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had. -The last seven lines could be replaced with one or two lines about lying in bed with regret. I think that would be an interesting image.

and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there,
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind. -Why is the speaker's mind empty? If nothing else, it's full of memories of their lost love.
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay. -Is the apple supposed to be the speaker's mind or the speaker? I get the emotion behind the metaphor, but it is a bit unclear.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart. -I would suggest dropping this stanza or choosing to focus on the apple metaphor in greater detail.

but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in. -I like this stanza. I would even suggest making this stanza into its own poem. It would totally work as a concentrate poem.

Overall, I think you have a nice starting point with this poem, and I look forward to seeing where you take it from here.

Keep writing,
Richard

[LunaDeLore]

there are some brief moments in time moments and time seem redundant
where my anxieties simply wash over me. my anxieties comes off like over keel although I do appreciate owning your feelings
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days "the" is not needed in this sentence
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the 
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom. 
 
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming.
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now,
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together,
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind. 

but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say This is too much maybe something like: i finally would not fear to say
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either,
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me.  if someone only received from you then isn't ever over describing ?

because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear Again, you've put too much into describing the coal black moon of anxiety 
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull,
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums,
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours,
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm
as it calmly rests inside of mine. 

but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had.

and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there,
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind.
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart. 

but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in.

heady,

i think this is a meaty work, but it's too meaty; many sentences are simply overdone. although, with some work you can make this a good read. Look for the dark areas near the moon and move through the poem in re-vision. move forward and share.

looking forward to seeing your revision

keep writing

Luna

[homer1950]

there are some brief moments in time
where my anxieties simply wash over me.
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom. 
 
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming.
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now,
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together,
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind. 

but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say.
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either,
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me. 

because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull,
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums,
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours,
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm
as it calmly rests inside of mine. 

but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had.

and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there,
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind.
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart. 

but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in.

Hi Heady Beach,

You have a great deal to say here, in your piece that is. If I where to give mild critique it would be this. Your writing seems to fade in and out between (what I will call) plain speak and very descriptive language,

Example: The purple is very descriptive with many cliche' words, Then the Red is a very plain and forthright spoken stanza. So what I am tying to say is, it appears to me like your using the descriptive words as some poetic formula. I personally like the plain spoken words you are using. 


because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear

that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull,
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart,
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums,
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,


but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,

and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,

[67eager]

there are some brief moments in time
where my anxieties simply wash over me.
they accumulate and revolve around my head from the rainier days -I really love the way you compare the feeling of anxiety to water flushing around your head and body. You should explore it more throughout the whole poem
and then, in these times,
are thankfully let flowing, -I find this line somewhat awkward. Let flowing hardly makes a lot of sense to the reader,
gliding, slowly,
down and all along the
frail surface of my taut, worn skin
with the leisurely and gentle pull of earth's compelling gravity,
like a steaming morning shower right before you step out to brace the piercing chill of a cold, dark bedroom.-I completely understand the feeling of leaving a hot shower and you get it beautifully, but I am not quite sure what it is that you are comparing it to.
 
in these rare serene and blissful moments, i'm always prone to daydreaming. -Is anxiety blissful or am I missing out on something here?
i get lost in watching imaginations of my romantic fantasies
as if they were like melodramatic movie scenes.- Lovely alliteration here, whether deliberate or not.
staring into the infinite depths of an odd blank space somewhere in my field of vision,
i imagine being with you in this here and now, -You beautifully capture this contemplative state of mind. I can really picture it. Well done.
and being able, for once,
to spend at least one minute, second,
of this forever inevitably fleeting calmness with you, together,- -I think that 'together' is a bit unnecessary.
because my truest feelings for you have always only ever
been eclipsed by my fearful mind. -Aha celestial imagery. Bravo. 

but, oh,
the things that i would have the courage to do
if only you were here right now,
and, if only you could know -'And' can go too I think, and 'could know' could be simplified into knew
all of the things that i would finally not be so afraid to say.
they wouldn't be very
majestic, or magnificent,
or monumental, either, Another m alliteration. I like it a lot
but they'd be so much more than
the distant,
bleak,
cold
nothingness
that you've only ever received from me. -I like the ending to this stanza.

because, past that pitch black, dark coal moon of anxious fear -'Dark coal moon' is a very interesting oxymoron.
that hangs itself up above, amidst the hollow night sky
inside of my otherwise vacant skull, Are you trying to say that all your thought is devoted to this person?
there waits, sleeping
in the chambers of my heart, 'I like chambers'- very original 
an embracing, lung-filling, candle-warm cloud of delicate fog
that hums, -Beautiful imagery, but I'' not quite sure what it is that you're referencing
lowly and softly
with the evening orange of a setting sun,
and it desperately wants to clasp all five fingers of my nervous hand
between the middles of all five of the worry-soothing fingers on yours, -Very clever juxtaposition of your feeble 'nervous hand', and your belover's strong, 'worry soothing' hands. Encapsulates love pretty much...
and to fill the creases and valleys of your grasping palm- Wow, again you have successfully provided large world imagery to talk about small fragments of the human anatomy. Very impressive.
as it calmly rests inside of mine. 

but i waited too long to actually show you this secluded love,
and then, although for other outside reasons,
you finally said that you had had enough.
we aren't together anymore,
and to you it never even felt like we
ever really were at all. Ohhh I like the chilling ambiguity of this line. I comfortably prompts me to enquire about the identity of the narrator. Is he/she merely a broken hearted person out of a relationship? Or is it a lot more dark? Is this narrator actually just a delusional soul? Very well done again.
so now,
all that i can really do
with this love that i have got
is just lie hopelessly in bed,
lying in despair, lying flat on my back,
constantly regretting that i
never gave you what i always had. -You finely describe regret- an intrinsic part of any romantic affair.

and the thoughts of what we could have been, all along, all of this time,
are always there, -Perhaps the following two lines could just go on this one? I know the reason why you're making 'inside' a stand alone line, but I believe it's just not effective enough. I would look a lot nicer if it were coupled with other words.
inside,
endlessly echoing
among the empty, white bone walls of my mind.- Another chilling line of poetry. 
they are razor blades
meticulously peeling away
at the polished deep burgundy skin
of a giant "red delicious" apple that's rotting in decay. Is this a heart you're describing? If so, it's better not to use adventurous/experimental metaphors, since the idea of a heart alone is abstract.
they're tearing me up.
oh, they're tearing me up
and they're tearing me apart. -These three lines just sound a bit too lyrical and almost gospel like. While this would be appropriate to employ on a Sunday morning baptist church, it just doesn't seem to fit here.

but, we're still always going to be real close friends, that's what we both said at the very end of all of this,- 'Real' sounds a bit too informal. Think of a more adventurous adverb to describe the strength of your acquaintance.
because we both know that we both do still like one another,
it's just that we can't stay together,
you can't stay in this
god damned
situation
that a
devil
put
us
in. -I really love the detached geometry of this final line. It carries on with the dark and chilling motif of the whole poem, with a Big Bang.



Overall. I think this poem is definately a great start and effort, and some the passages within it are I ply beautiful, but you need to be sure that what you are writing would be able to maintain the attention of the reader for as long as you would like him to. Make more frequent use of the generalisations which you use when describing love, rather than just discussing a mediocre personal anecdote as the force of the poem.