14.9.11

Shadows on my Heart

She can never understand
how I always feel--dizzy

As this hot cloud settles over my eyes
bogs down my frontal lobe

I pick up snapped twigs like dreamless mornings
wade through the air
pushing against currents to nowhere

Eyes become dull
half-open blinds to a soul
frantically dancing
each heartbeat dares me to realize---I'm alive

Picking up broken--anything
puzzle pieces from the earth

I can never understand the world spinning--
or how she hasn't died

Settled I realize
My mind's my only home

5 comments:

  1. This is wonderful--so many good thoughts, so many wonderful metaphors. Like your use of dashes a lot. Really there are so many positives that it makes this poem hard to critique. I would say the second and last stanza feel too scientific and cerebral for the rest of the poem. They go well with each other (actually paired together would make a fine poem) but contrast sharply with the other thoughts (at least from my perspective--I know poetry is so subjective) I also was wishing you had given one more concrete example instead of "anything"--I think anything else concrete you can add to the poem will add to its weight and gravity. Awesome job! :)

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  2. ok i see how you are trying to play the rhyme with anything, but agree it may be stronger with another example...your first one is so strong it makes a weak mirror...i pick up twigs like dreamless mornings is my fav line...

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  3. I like this line: "bogs down my frontal lobe"

    I love this part, but might rework the line breaks and make a couple of tweaks, perhaps like this:
    "I pick up snapped [you can snap a line too]
    twigs like dreamless mornings[,]
    wade through air [deleted "the"]
    pushing against currents
    [going] nowhere"

    "Picking up broken--anything" ... I love the way you used "broken" (as a noun, the way I read it anyway)

    "My mind's my only home" ... AMEN!!!


    ~poetrypastiche.blogspot.com

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  4. I liked your write and your metaphors, welcomes people to the world of people who no longer race in the rat race. They live quietly at home and in their minds comfortably.

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  5. I pick up snapped twigs like dreamless mornings - a good example of the way you construct lines and phrases that speak directly to the instinct and are not meant perhaps to be analysed too much by the rational mind. Reading your poem was a most pleasurable experience.

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