Night Terror
#1
It's the way their faces vanish
anytime their heads would turn
that makes me wonder if the days have slipped
between the forming cracks.
They are either warm no longer
or I have forgotten their warmth.

Blank, as if their eyes, nose, and mouth
were smeared away
like blood paints skin. They're walking towards something, possibly
someone. I'm stalking them
but I'm not trying to hide.

Long ago, they'd croon to me as I lay on their lap,
but the sounds playing from their bodies stab and thrash the wind
until the wind screams so helplessly. Yet somehow, I understood
that they yearn to sink into some distant lake
to sing lullabies to someone dormant that they call
my older brother. He smiles in his sleep
with fangs made of moonlight.

An eye opens. I begin to drown
as he tries to swallow me.
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#2
Alexordande,
"Enjoyed" your nightmare.  I just have two suggestions.


(03-21-2021, 03:02 AM)alexorande Wrote:  It's the way their faces vanish
anytime their heads would turn
that makes me wonder if the days have slipped
between the forming cracks.
They are either warm no longer             "warm" and "warmth" seem too tepid compared to the rest of the poem; also not sure if you mean "alive" or "comforting"
or I have forgotten their warmth.           also, this doesn't work for me as an either/or; either they are or are not; maybe take out "either"

Blank, as if their eyes, nose, and mouth
were smeared away
like blood paints skin. They're walking towards something, possibly
someone. I'm stalking them
but I'm not trying to hide.

Long ago, they'd croon to me as I lay on their lap,
but the sounds playing from their bodies stab and thrash the wind
until the wind screams so helplessly. Yet somehow, I understood
that they yearn to sink into some distant lake
to sing lullabies to someone dormant that they call
my older brother. He smiles in his sleep
with fangs made of moonlight.              this line seems to go too far into the horror realm; something less like ""a smile made of moolight"?

An eye opens. I begin to drown
as he tries to swallow me.
“All persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.”  Kurt Vonnegut
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#3
Hi Alex, 

I think your piece could really benefit from a little more coherency. the nightmarish imagery isn't very profound (not that it should be relatable necessarily) but as it stands now it's just more confusing than anything. 

It's a good stab nonetheless. 

(03-21-2021, 03:02 AM)alexorande Wrote:  It's the way their faces vanish expand on this. does it happen in an instant, or slowly?
anytime their heads would turn
that makes me wonder if the days have slipped 
between the forming cracks.
They are either warm no longer
or have I forgotten their warmthI would replace warmth with whatever made them warm for you in the first place. like the sun, perhaps.

Blank, as if their eyes, nose, and mouth
were smeared away
like blood paints skin. They're walking towards something, possibly 
someone. I'm stalking them
but I'm not trying to hide. I don't believe this stanza is taking the piece in the right direction. it leaves unanswered questions in the middle of the poem that do not get revisited later on.

Long ago, they'd croon to me as I lay on their lap, starting with 'long ago' is risky. maybe something more direct like "as a child" 
but the sounds playing from their bodies stab and thrash the wind
until the wind screams so helplessly. Yet somehow, I understood
that they yearn to sink into some distant lake
to singing lullabies to someone dormant that they call
my older brother. He smiles in his sleep everything up until now sounds like a really bad trip story, my advice would be to make it more coherent. 
with fangs made of moonlight. this could be different but it works 

An eye opens. I begin to drown 
as he tries to swallow me.

I don't think this ended on a strong note. to me it just adds more confusion 
assholery not intended .
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#4
(03-21-2021, 03:02 AM)alexorande Wrote:  It's the way their faces vanish
anytime their heads would turn
that makes me wonder if the days have slipped
between the forming cracks.
They are either warm no longer
or I have forgotten their warmth. (Forgotten their warmth sounds poetic in a way, nice expression)

Blank, as if their eyes, nose, and mouth
were smeared away
like blood paints skin. (Nice simile!) They're walking towards something, possibly (Trotting? Trekking? That might work!)
someone. I'm stalking them
but I'm not trying to hide.

Long ago, they'd croon to me as I lay on their lap,
but the sounds playing from their bodies stab and thrash the wind
until the wind screams so helplessly. Yet somehow, I understood
that they yearn to sink into some distant lake (Distant lake sounds vague say iridescent lake instead, just a thought)
to sing lullabies to someone dormant that they call (I think instead of that say "Which" instead) reads better!
my older brother. He smiles in his sleep
with fangs made of moonlight. (I don't quite get this image, why moonlight? And why fangs?)

An eye opens. I begin to drown
as he tries to swallow me. (Who is trying to swallow you? You made no clarity on this)
Anyway you have a lot to say here, I like the title and it is very fitting for this poem, since it is about night terrors.

Thanks for sharing!
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