This is one of the first poems I have written and the first one anybody will have read. Please let me know of any thoughts, thankyou!
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He jumps back in his meat cage
Awakes for the sunrise
Muscles twitch and tendons Pull
Sunlight reflects of his eyes
Every day he wakes the same as this
Daily motions mean that he exists
Is the only power of which he holds
The remote control in his clenched fist?
He's pissed and can't be arsed
With this monotonous daily farce
He's seen his future bright and clear
In the bottom of a glass
Want's his freedom back
Like a whore wants smack
Who took it?
He's not sure
The image of a broken man
Lays shattered on the floor
He's bored and aware of being a mechanical animal bag of snot
The inbuilt yearning inside him is causing him to lose the plot
The clock...
That he lives his life by...
Is clashing with the deepest part of his minds eye
Lost at high tide
Life does fly by
Dosen't wanna die in a suit and tie now..
Breeeeath
So many distractions in existence
Friday night goes straight to the pub
Now there's cocaine in his system
Anchored to physicality
Falsely happy for a blissful moment
Unaware aware of what he secretly knows
Whenever his third eye opens
Plodding the path
welcome Alex .. i'm an irregular visior here atm (lost my confidence in writing, blocked and all that argghh) .. but your writing touched me ...
i'm a sagittarian so things come out abrupt ... are you ready?
this is soooo how people feel in general that it's a universal ennui kinda thing .. some might call that cliche ... i don't care ... i like uni/multiversal ... what are we if we aren't those?
anyway, i had a fairly poor go at an edit because i'm rubbish at explaining or doing a line by line whatever but i know a lot of what i write is sheer personal trash that needs to be hoisted out of the personal diary stuff if it's even to blink at daylight .. so i've gone ahead on this basis, ok? discard immediately would be my recommendation because my edit's a personal, not an academic response *heh
he cowers in the meat cage, wakes for sunrise
muscle twitch or a tendon’s pull on light
from the bottom of an empty glass
in his wave
freedom’s pissed and powerless
who drank it all? he’s not sure but in the gasp
of low tide life’s a simple breath
heaved from shore in a wave of third-eye
revelation pushing out cocaine
remote control floats
aware of the broken man, anchored
i'm a sagittarian so things come out abrupt ... are you ready?
this is soooo how people feel in general that it's a universal ennui kinda thing .. some might call that cliche ... i don't care ... i like uni/multiversal ... what are we if we aren't those?
anyway, i had a fairly poor go at an edit because i'm rubbish at explaining or doing a line by line whatever but i know a lot of what i write is sheer personal trash that needs to be hoisted out of the personal diary stuff if it's even to blink at daylight .. so i've gone ahead on this basis, ok? discard immediately would be my recommendation because my edit's a personal, not an academic response *heh
he cowers in the meat cage, wakes for sunrise
muscle twitch or a tendon’s pull on light
from the bottom of an empty glass
in his wave
freedom’s pissed and powerless
who drank it all? he’s not sure but in the gasp
of low tide life’s a simple breath
heaved from shore in a wave of third-eye
revelation pushing out cocaine
remote control floats
aware of the broken man, anchored
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ray miller
- Perspicacious Poster
- Posts: 7463
- Joined: Wed Apr 23, 2008 10:23 am
I wonder why you choose to abandon the rhymed quatrains. Best bits, I think.Sunlight reflects of his eyes - in his eyes? off his eyes?
Is the only power of which he holds - this "of" seems superfluous.
Maybe dreary would be better than monotonous, for rhthym sake.
He's bored and aware of being a mechanical animal bag of snot
The inbuilt yearning inside him is causing him to lose the plot
Here I think you begin to lose the plot yourself a bit. Almost as if there are two separate poems. Be better to fuse it all together in one style. Or write two poems!
Is the only power of which he holds - this "of" seems superfluous.
Maybe dreary would be better than monotonous, for rhthym sake.
He's bored and aware of being a mechanical animal bag of snot
The inbuilt yearning inside him is causing him to lose the plot
Here I think you begin to lose the plot yourself a bit. Almost as if there are two separate poems. Be better to fuse it all together in one style. Or write two poems!
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
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Alexcanwell
- Posts: 7
- Joined: Fri Oct 22, 2010 9:40 am
Thankyou both for your views.
"of his eyes" is a typo, should be "off'
I like monotonous and feel I will stick with it.
However reading over it again your point on the "bag of snot" part I take on board. When I read the poem out myself it seems to work, but looking at it from fresh eyes I can see how it may break the flow of the poem up. I will try to think of an alternative and re-post
Cheers!
"of his eyes" is a typo, should be "off'
I like monotonous and feel I will stick with it.
However reading over it again your point on the "bag of snot" part I take on board. When I read the poem out myself it seems to work, but looking at it from fresh eyes I can see how it may break the flow of the poem up. I will try to think of an alternative and re-post
Cheers!
Alex this is very ambitious for a first poem and you did very well....
I think that "like a whore wants smack" is overused and it appears almost an attempt to shock, or startle the reader. Yet later on, the subject of the pome "....goes straight to the pub
Now there's cocaine in his system".
I thought this (pot calling the kettle black??) took whatever sting there might be, out of the line about the whore.
some interesting images here.... even if I am not a fan of some of them they are certainly creative.
I think that "like a whore wants smack" is overused and it appears almost an attempt to shock, or startle the reader. Yet later on, the subject of the pome "....goes straight to the pub
Now there's cocaine in his system".
I thought this (pot calling the kettle black??) took whatever sting there might be, out of the line about the whore.
some interesting images here.... even if I am not a fan of some of them they are certainly creative.
"Poetry's unnat'ral; no man ever talked poetry 'cept a beadle on boxin' day, or Warren's blackin' or Rowland's oil, or some o' them low fellows; never you let yourself down to talk poetry, my boy." C. Dickens