Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur

[Indie]

V:3 (Billy)
It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze
In the cold dawning of realisation
Remembering when I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets
And fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses
A hallucinogenic heaven

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart beating, a caged and clipped bird
That can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite
Poking through the bars in beautiful antagonism
The feigned innocence of your eyes
And the heady perfume of your voice
Unable to hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in curve of your smile.

A scar sits on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drip into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

...

V:2 (First Edit, Billy and Addy)

It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan ritual masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze
That used to have me crumpling
Like a string-less puppet
Though I never needed the bindings
When I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets and fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Like a field of belladonna in my brain
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses.

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leaving it chilled and shivering
My heart constricting in fear
And I can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite
That never had my best interests at heart.
When the beauty of your face
And the heady perfume of your voice
Never could hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in the depths of your eyes.

A scar sits on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drips into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

...

V:1
It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind nautical masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
No longer the fire to my ice
I don’t melt under your melancholy gaze
That used to have me crumpling
Like a puppet without strings
Though I never needed the bindings
When I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets and fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Like molasses in my brain
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses.

Ghosts for memories that brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart constricting in fear
And I can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted guardian angel
That never had my best interests at heart.
When the beauty of your face
And the heady perfume of your voice
Never could hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in the depths of your eyes.

There is a scar on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drips into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

[billy]

let do a translate first

---

i did and i liked it
will do the poem next

---

It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind feels a bit wordy
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench "a" would work just as well as "where it lingers like the"
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind nautical masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
No longer the fire to my ice
I don’t melt under your melancholy gaze
That used to have me crumpling
Like a puppet without strings big big cliche
Though I never needed the bindings
When I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets and fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Like molasses in my brain
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses.

Ghosts for memories that brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart constricting in fear
And I can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted guardian angel
That never had my best interests at heart.
When the beauty of your face
And the heady perfume of your voice
Never could hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in the depths of your eyes.

There is a scar on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away good strong line
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drips into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

the two comments would fit a few other lines as well. i like a lot of what you have going on. and i love the title which works well with the content. but it feels very wordy. the enjambment could be done a little better. the barb-wire line is good but the way it's extended takes something away. i think the poem screams out for good grammar and less caps. narration seldom reads as good as it should when done with personal grammar styles. all in all i think it's good enough to do a solid edit.

thanks for the read

billy

[Indie]

Thank you Billy, I'll get on it tomorrow

[addy]

I really liked this one Indie. You've got lots of good lines. For some reason i really liked "And I began to grow into myself, Much to the horror of us...".

One thing I could suggest is to try and keep your images somehow consistent; you know, keep it somehow within the same thematic constellation. Most of your images talk about gardens, of vegetation that is overripe, overgrown, rotting... like the relationship. I like that. but then there are some lines that talk about being underwater, or of fire and ice, so you're implying something about melting and the abundance of water being a metaphor for drowning in emotions. i'm left struggling about which point you were actually trying to make, and which metaphor you were ultimately going for. i like both, but maybe they belong in different poems.

Thanks very much for the read Indie

[Indie]

Thank you Billy and Addy

---

First edit up, not a massive edit, a couple of visuals changed to more garden based metaphors. Will work on the barb-wire line. I get what you mean Billy, not sure how to fix it yet.

Indie.

[tectak]

V:2 (First Edit, Billy and Addy)

It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mindThe "it" is insular and not related.....in this fashion "it" remains throughout. After a full read (enjoyable) "it" is still unknown. That "it" trickles only adds to the enigma"
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain There is some very worthy imagery here but you you walk very close to cliche cliff!!!
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan ritual masks
That send us reeling into the past. The last four lines are PURE imagery and in that sense, and that sense only, are excellent. There is a BUT, though. The trickling "it" has now become a place! The imagery has taken over from the inspiration. can you get the piece back on track? We shall see, but "it" will take some explaining

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go Oh oh....is this the same poem or have you started another? I cannot get ANY connection between the first stanza and this, the next. That is a statement.
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze
That used to have me crumpling
Like a string-less puppet I know you are trying to avoid the obvious' and noted, cliche here, but this is very difficult once committed....I know you are loathe to take editorial swings at a piece, but even substituting "mannequin" or "marionet" for "puppet" would help to remove the "puppet on a string", in-your-face cliche.
Though I never needed the bindings
When I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets and fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Like a field of belladonna in my brain
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses.Last five lines are just beautiful. The best I have seen of your work (and I have looked ). Just one point which I have mentioned before...this change of "sense" between "Though" and "When". There is no conditional relationship between the two lines SO you should consider dropping the "when", so that you get.... " Though I never needed the bindings, I crawled to you .....your voice was analgesic, like a field of belladonna in my brain..." or some such. The conditionality of "though" is now established. THOUGH it hurt, your voice took away the pain.

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leaving it chilled and shivering
My heart constricting in fear
And I can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite
That never had my best interests at heart. cliche in here
When the beauty of your face Here we go again. I think this is something you need to look at seriously. Drop the "when". It is unrelated CONDITIONALLY to the previous line(s). It is also unnecessary and reads badly. Just begin the line with "The beauty of your face...." and off you go
And the heady perfume of your voice cliche in here
Never could hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in the depths of your eyes.cliche in here

A scar sits on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistlesExcellent....how come you EVER need cliches?
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink the next 8 lines are again rich in imagery but it is all burgeoning. You must punctuate SOMETIMES. As it is, the whole thing is sticky toffee pudding. Tastes great but too much makes one nauseous.
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure and again. "While" (or whilst) is a conditional term. ("Whilst" this is true, one should remember that.) You have not completed the conditionality quickly enough. The "when innocence reigned" line is just too far away. You can easily correct this by just putting a comma after ".....the way things used to be"
A fondness for the way things used to be comma. This helps to imply the insertion of "at least.....when innocence reigned"
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drips into my brain like medieval water torturecliche
As memories and dreams light up the skycliche
Creating faux constellations unworthy and pompous
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place cliche
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us cliche
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves. an inconclusive conclusion for so much angst...but see below

.There is a good deal to be proud of in this piece....but I am now looking out for indieisms. That is my failing. Furthermore, if I try to look holistically at this piece I DO see two poems. I will be wrong, and I can hear your howls of protest ( cliches work in crits!!!). Nonetheless, this is the best pair of poems I have read from you and I can see into your head. That is a good thing. I hope thatyou willrun out of cliches after a short while and believe we can all look forward to some great word-play from you in the future,
Best,
tectak[/i]

V:1
It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind nautical masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
No longer the fire to my ice
I don’t melt under your melancholy gaze
That used to have me crumpling
Like a puppet without strings
Though I never needed the bindings
When I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets and fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Like molasses in my brain
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses.

Ghosts for memories that brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart constricting in fear
And I can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted guardian angel
That never had my best interests at heart.
When the beauty of your face
And the heady perfume of your voice
Never could hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in the depths of your eyes.

There is a scar on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drips into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

[billy]

will do some feedback after breakfast

[billy]

V:2 (First Edit, Billy and Addy)

It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan ritual masks works better though i think ritual doesn't add anything
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze is gaze needed?
That used to have me crumpling
Like a string-less puppet hehe, touché friar tuck but it's still the same cliche
Though I never needed the bindings
When I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets and fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Like a field of belladonna in my brain
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses.

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leaving it chilled and shivering
My heart constricting in fear
And I can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite
That never had my best interests at heart.
When the beauty of your face
And the heady perfume of your voice
Never could hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in the depths of your eyes. this is inundated with cliche indie and if anything lets this poem down it's this verse. the 1st two lines are good and then it falls away.

A scar sits on my heart short and all the sweeter
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays
Drips into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

...

the small edit is a big improvement. there's still too many clichés in the 3rd an last stanzas. the difference between those and stanzas 1 and 2 are significant. i do think it's a good poem that's on the right track. keep up the edit and make it something special

thanks for the edit.

[Indie]

Version 3 up. Thanks Billy.
Apologies Tectak, just saw your edit, and it's not in V:3.
V:4 for sure, 'cause there will be a V:4

[tectak]

Version 3 up. Thanks Billy.
Apologies Tectak, just saw your edit, and it's not in V:3.
V:4 for sure, 'cause there will be a V:4

Excellent. Look forward to it, with or without my input.
Best,
tectak

[billy]

two nits; garden of roses and the last two lines. the 1st is a large cliche the 2nd is something worse, though i can't remember what it 's called
other than that i think it's a great edit. the rose and last line things weren't mentioned before because i'd already had my allotment used up for the mild crit forum but this is a fresh post so i mention them

as i said before, the way you edit is refreshing. as is the fact you still holding on to those caps

[Indie]

Yeah, I was unsure on the last two lines and agreed the garden of roses is rather cliched. I'll have a crack at another edit in the next couple of days. Thanks again Billy.

[Universalchild]

V:3 (Billy)
It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday Why a crevasse and not a crevice? I am just curious.
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain I love the imagery of rotting roses.
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze
In the cold dawning of realisation
Remembering when I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets
And fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses
A hallucinogenic heaven

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart beating, a caged and clipped bird I really like the added "clipped" to the cliche, strengthens it.
That can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite I think sprite sounds too friendly, like a jolly fairy.
Poking through the bars in beautiful antagonism
The feigned innocence of your eyes
And the heady perfume of your voice
Unable to hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in curve of your smile.

A scar sits on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away Nice flow!
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be Mmm, I think "fondness" is a bit weak sounding, although maybe you were going for that.
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays I think it would be better non-plural, with "drips"
Drip into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations I like the imagery.
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself Love this line.
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing I think this line is a bit over-stuffed with words.
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

I really enjoyed reading it. Lots of fantastic imagery with a fantasy feel to it.

[billy]

a feeback giver...we love you universal child. ><><><

take a peek at the type of feedback for the mild forum here

[Indie]

V:3 (Billy)
It creeps and trickles down the walls of my mind
Through the crevasses of yesterday Why a crevasse and not a crevice? I am just curious.
Where it lingers like the sickly sweet stench
Of rose gardens rotting after torrential rain I love the imagery of rotting roses.
It’s here I find you
It’s here you find me
Sapphires for eyes behind pagan masks
That send us reeling into the past.

You’re reaching out while I’m letting go
I no longer melt under your melancholy gaze
In the cold dawning of realisation
Remembering when I would crawl to you through
Blackberry thickets
And fields of poison ivy
Just to hear your voice
Sweet and consuming, overwhelming my senses
A hallucinogenic heaven

Ghosts for memories brush my skin
Leave it chilled and shivering
My heart beating, a caged and clipped bird I really like the added "clipped" to the cliche, strengthens it.
That can feel you near, always here
Like an unwanted sprite I think sprite sounds too friendly, like a jolly fairy.
Poking through the bars in beautiful antagonism
The feigned innocence of your eyes
And the heady perfume of your voice
Unable to hide the devilish mischief
Barely concealed in curve of your smile.

A scar sits on my heart
Ugly and brash, born of impulse and thistles
Where I’ve tried to erase the ink
That bled there in my sleep
Tattooing your name upon my soul
That no bleach nor blade can bleed away Nice flow!
While no amount of forgetting will ever procure
A fondness for the way things used to be Mmm, I think "fondness" is a bit weak sounding, although maybe you were going for that.
When innocence reigned, naivety
Held no shame, and hope was beautiful.

And still the realm of yesterdays I think it would be better non-plural, with "drips"
Drip into my brain like medieval water torture
As memories and dreams light up the sky
Creating faux constellations I like the imagery.
That I could have fallen in love with
In another time and place
Before adulthood beckoned
And I began to grow into myself Love this line.
Much to the horror of us
While leagues of mentally laced barb-wired fencing I think this line is a bit over-stuffed with words.
Cannot keep me from floundering in the scent
Of the days that got lost, before our garden of roses
Slipped into the mire of rot.

And now
No amount of love can save us from ourselves.

I really enjoyed reading it. Lots of fantastic imagery with a fantasy feel to it.

thanks for your feedback Universal. I used crevasses instead of crevice to indicate multiple memories and experiences, as the past is made up of many, rather than just one, which would be a crevice. I made a conscious choice on yesterdays and drip, and plan on keeping that way, as it fits my aesthetic for this piece.

There are quite a few lines in here that I have/and still am struggling with. The barbed wire line is such a line that I haven't yet been able to remedy. I'm taking some time out from this piece for a bit to get some perspective before I jump into another edit.

Thanks again.

[Indie]

I've been thinking about this poem, and the more I look at it, the more I dislike it. I haven't worked out how to remedy it without a complete overhaul, which I don't want to do. My other overhaul while better on an artistic level left me cold on an emotional level, and I can't even look at it now. So I'm going to leave this one on the back burner and maybe one I'll come back to it.

[billy]

putting a poem away for a month or 6
can at times be the wisest choice to make.
fresh eyes see things tired eyes missed.