deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Times.
Feel that trouble ahead? It is like a bent hanger heated, as it sinks to lie deep in my skin. Blues come dancing, when they feel you can’t catch em’. Does the madness win? Storms have passed us, we have dodged some daggers, but this one is aimed at our back. Ominous forces, take over the land. To choose faith or fact.
Published 4th Apr 2020
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4th Apr 2020 5:09pm
The poem seems as desolate as the choice presented us, doesn't it, IntoTheRain? I think you captured the anxiety perfectly, especially between the empty spaces, where indecision and doubt lie.
8th Jul 2020 2:43pm
Love the stocky appearance of this ... also the long pausing breaks ... so so effective ...
7th May 2022 6:08am
I know this was posted two years ago. But it's new to me. And it's worth commenting on.
"a bent hanger heated... my skin" - How you know about that?! I've never seen that used in a poetic way before. Cool!
You are a very good, and observant writer. The descriptive way you used the burnt hanger to the skin proves not only do you observe, you apply your gains to your poetry. Very solid writing, at that.
"a bent hanger heated... my skin" - How you know about that?! I've never seen that used in a poetic way before. Cool!
You are a very good, and observant writer. The descriptive way you used the burnt hanger to the skin proves not only do you observe, you apply your gains to your poetry. Very solid writing, at that.
