i.
cool beads of sweat
dripped to the floor below
a tiny puddle representing
years’ worth of exertion
willing my eyes to
open once more, for sleep
was not an option, i was greeted
with her pained whispers
begging for the help
she knew i couldn’t give
such a delicate, beautiful
creature here, restrained
and slowly draining
away; she was life at its
purest, an angel whose
blood soaking into the
pitted concrete floor
matched the passions
that had burned for
so, so long
i stirred in my chair
and rose, my arms sore and
knees old and knotted
i knelt beside her
gently brushing ebony
strands from her eyes
and peered inside her
one more time
eyes closed now, she
managed only muted
cries for help out of
a desperation that
no one would ever hear
but the burden proved
too much in the end
and she faded into
the abyss
ii.
it was then that i
awoke in my bed
and was reminded of the
cinderblock prison
i greeted every minute
of every day
i faced the far wall
and pictured painting
her final face into it
cold, pale, hopeless
faint, ragged breath
slowly rose behind me
but i was the only one home
and when i rolled over
she was staring back
her sunken eyes and
the greening scars i gave her
now analyzing me as nausea
crept up from below
and i suddenly wished
i was still dreaming
Author notes
Think of this as a sort-of sequel to my poem, "Prone".
I know this is kinda rough, and yes, it's rather dark, but any and all suggestions on how to improve this would be greatly appreciated.
Really, though, just be honest! Thanks for reading.
Won gold in this contest: http://allpoetry.com/contest/2441629
In a list
Comments
1 - 24 of 24
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Well written
This was an intense piece of writing,it started of with a hint of sadness buthas an immensely eerie conclusion which I enjoyed,the only part that was a bit sketchy to me was how her blood soaking into the pitted concrete floor matched the passion that had been burning for so long, I read that part twice and then deciphered that blood being red and red being the colour of passion it had to have more of a symbolic meaning rather than metaphoric,I could be wrong but that was my impression,on the whole it was a great read though!
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GREAT DEPTH
in this piece, wonderfuly told. Gripping and haunting, wonderful job my friend. The imagry was superb. peace be with you
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quite....isolating...
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WOW AGAIN
I found this explicit and deep ,dark.Did she die and you fell asleep with her? It is beautiful but I was lost.
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beautiful
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Wow
Muted was Amazing writting thrives in your soul keep doing it -
I'm not much on criticism but the poem works for me as is, the point is you put the person in the poem in a place and very poeticlly told a story. A rather gloomy story but detailed enough,enjoyed
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Yes, you are right. It is very dark and very emotional. I was quite taken with the amount of feeling you poured into this piece. I see you saif\d, think of this as a sequeal to your poem, "prone'. Well i will have to read that one to get the full story of what is happening. Sounds very sad and one without hope, but even with its deep dark mood, it still has a touch of optimism in it. Congratulations on your gold trophy and thank you for the read.
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wow.
excellent write. the metaphors and imagery are outstanding, and the emotion is very poignant. this was so deserving of that gold!
great write
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good imagery keep it up
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1st stanza is past tense, 2nd present (willing) then past again 'was not an'. Present tense is better!
'delicate, beautiful', and 'beggging for help' are cliche-alerts.
'whos blood soaking', strong image, but a bit wordy. Describe the blood? Angelic blood soaking into / a pitted concrete floor.
I don't get the metaphor - how does blood soaking match burning passions? 'so, so long' = very cliche
some beautiful work in here
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very good
i like it alot...i just think the reader needs to know more about what it is that your describing...other then that and adding to the story...i really love it
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NICE...
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Great Stuff
I'm not a fan of rhymless poetry,but I like this one
nice imagery not too much metaphor,good narrative
continuity.Well Worth the Gold....George... -
I Love it!
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I think this is done very well. I liked the presentation and the flow of it. Very deep and very dark. Excellent.
**Ktulu Blackwolfe** -
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If it's okay with you, I'd like to change to the title of this piece to its actual title. I understand the poem had to fit with the title you assigned me, and I was able to do just that. Now that Round 1 is over, though, I'd like to switch it back. I just want to make sure I won't be penalized or anything.
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You are welcome to make any changes to your piece at this point. Once the round is over and judged you can do whatever you wish with it.
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Amazing write. Drew me in and left me in aww.
Thanks for the share.
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Not many poems can turn my stomach like this one just did. It is absolutely gruesome. The almost complete absence of emotion is brilliant. The only emotion being at the end when there is the wish to still be dreaming - there is a sense of pain or something then...but nothing in the telling of the story. I am not usually a fan of horror, but this gripped me and held me from start to finish. In all honesty it creeped me out. In truth, I do not have any changes to suggest. It is an excellent poem.
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Hey dollface. I know you can take the constructive crit straight up, so I won't bother with word parlay. (did I spell that right? probably not)
Ok. One thing, first thing, for both sections of poems, they need a strong intro line. They, ironically, both have strong closing lines but not in the intro.
Another thing that I noticed is that this runs more like a story than poetry. I figure this is because you aren't taking it from personal intimate experience like when you wrote about losing your father. Those poems about your father felt very real and were poetic in a way that connects with the reader.
This doesn't have that. So I what I suggest is that when you're really 'feeling it' come back here and tinker with the concept in each stanza and try to give them more poetic lilt.
The last four lines in the first piece and the last eight lines of the second poem are exempt from that advice. Those hold the poetic turn that I like about dark poetry. So those aren't what I'm referring too.
On a side note, yes, this does sound like it's connected to your other poem about a girl getting killed walking home. What is up with you and that line of thought? You been watching too many horror flicks or something? lo
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Yes, I love constructive criticism, and your comments are pretty top-of-the-tier stuff.
You're right about the opening lines of each stanza; I had several ideas of what this poem would/should be, and when I finally settled on this one (the other ones required a great deal of plotting and character development, something I should probably flesh out in an outline or something beforehand), I had a lot of trouble coming up with good lines. The ideas were there, the emotions being fused into the words at just the right intensity, but the words just weren't there. So, it took a while to come up with phrases and things that sounded good. I definitely plan on tinkering with this as a result, so I'll keep in mind what you said because you're dead-right.
Ironically, I wrote those poems about my father not really caring how they came out, because I *had* to write them and I knew I'd like them no matter what.
The poem you're thinking of is "Quick". "Prone", on the other hand, is written in a similar vein, but a different setting. In all honesty, I guess I just find the idea of a stalker/killer/rapist being the narrative really fascinating. I don't condone the actions of people like that (I'd rather they be put on an island all by themselves so they can die alone, or whatever), but I love dark poetry and so I find their dark actions to be a perfect fit for my writing style. Does that make sense?
That said, horror flicks are great!
Thank you for the comment and applause. Srsly. -
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I don't know about it being 'top of the tier' but I give whatever I can. I know there are others who can offer more in depth critiques but are just too lazy. So you'll have to settle with me.
I think the poems about your father came out well because you just let yourself speak and stopped getting in your own way by over thinking things.
Frankly, I think a lot of things can be considered dark, depending on how one tells them. Or their focus on the scene. Seeing the tears in laughter, if you know what I'm saying.
"but I love dark poetry and so I find their dark actions to be a perfect fit for my writing style."
I think... you should focus on things that seem sad to you, or that get to you, without trying to write them forcifully. Just kind of write out what you see, what you know. Leave out the why.
Even if it seems kind of bland to you, I bet you others wouldn't see it that way. And would ultimately feel more drawn into sharing those feelings with you. Which, is the point of writing, is it not?
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your title is....
Ghost Love Score
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