At the stroke of midnight
Her naked identity is concealed
At closing time
She takes off her bedroom eyes
And puts on the eyes of a tradjedy
Maybe she's a naive child inside
But that says nothing of the situation.
Like the ghost of a sanatorium
Her mind is constantly haunting her.
Yeah, the metal is causing a rash
But she can't remove the shakles from her feet.
Not like she could the venom forced inside
She closes her eyes
But still can't escape
She can't fight it
So now she sleeps on the ceiling
Death couldn't do them apart
Iving growing on her flesh
Binds her to the past
This fallen angel turns to dust
Before dawn
And her frown fades to black
As morning sucks her into the black hole.
A contest entry
- From Trash to Treasure by star wars fanatic.
1500 points, ended February 22, 2008, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
From one poet to another, what do you think?
Comments
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Vacancy has pretty well summed up a few of the poems strengths a nd shortcomings... what I would ask is, how do you see this as experimental, psychedelic or abstract? It reads like a pretty standard dark write... I haven't read your other stuff, but perhaps there would be a better piece, written or in the wings, for you to showcase with regard to the subject matter of this group?
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Not bad. I really like the concept of sleeping on the ceiling, but I get the impression that it's one of those things that sounds really cool, but has no real intended meaning past the sake of "dark" imagery. The same goes for a few lines in the piece, such as, "Like the ghost of a sanatorium" and "She takes off her bedroom eyes"
Also, a minor spelling error I picked up on - tragedy, not trajedy.
Also, there are a few lines that I feel are a little cliche, and take away from your poem:
"the venom forced inside"
"This fallen angel turns to dust"
"And her frown fades to black "
Finally, may I suggest either some more regular punctuation, or complete elimination of it - the way you use it in some places and not in others makes it seem like you don't know what you're doing.
Aside from all that though, good effort. I enjoyed this.
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It's hard to critique this, other than to be very general and say: this is a very eloquent, beautiful piece, but the language fails you in some places, such as:
Yeah, the metal is causing a rash
You really should say something other than "yeah." Do you know what I mean? I recommend going through your piece and un-modernizing everything that you can. Anyway, see what you can do, thx for entering, and let me know when you edit.
P.S. You spelled "ivy" wrong. -
Only a couple of minor mistakes on an overall brilliantly dark and kinda depressing poem. youve done well here.
anyways, keep up the good work.
hugs and luvvs xxxxxxx
tradjedy should be tragedy
Iving should be living
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