deepundergroundpoetry.com
Lonely Drift
...It was like walking into a never ending black, narrow hall
with spaceously spread holes no bigger than the very tear drop you shed.
thick, hot, humid air suffocating every breathe you managed to grasp.
Every step you take has you collapsing back to the ground, with echo's of laughter drowning the strength you have, bit by bit.
realization came too soon,
I was in hell
I cried
I struggled
I begged
Not a flimsy bit of mercy was given
and I felt that nothing i could do would possibly get me out.
The ceiling mocked my tears
The ground tripped my escape,
pulling me only deeper into the repugnant cavity.
my efforts seemed pointless the weaker i became.
it didn't take long for me to fade
nor to blend into the darkest matter I feared most..
TBC
with spaceously spread holes no bigger than the very tear drop you shed.
thick, hot, humid air suffocating every breathe you managed to grasp.
Every step you take has you collapsing back to the ground, with echo's of laughter drowning the strength you have, bit by bit.
realization came too soon,
I was in hell
I cried
I struggled
I begged
Not a flimsy bit of mercy was given
and I felt that nothing i could do would possibly get me out.
The ceiling mocked my tears
The ground tripped my escape,
pulling me only deeper into the repugnant cavity.
my efforts seemed pointless the weaker i became.
it didn't take long for me to fade
nor to blend into the darkest matter I feared most..
TBC
Published 6th Sep 2012
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22nd Jan 2013 12:43pm
right, don't let anything i say make you discouraged, this is allllll just the way i see it and i love (and miss) this kind of critique myself. someone else could see it in a totally different light.
...It was like walking into a never ending black, narrow hall -- (because the rest of the poem is a mostly solid metaphor, you don't need the "It was like", maybe "It was a narrow hall with no end, black as grief")
with spaceously spread holes no bigger than the very tear drop you shed. -- (the imagery isn't very clear here, because i can't really picture where the holes are or what their place is in the metaphor... do they make the corridor cold?)
thick, hot, humid air suffocated* every breath* I* could manage. (no, they don't make it cold. :)
Every step you take has you collapsing back to the ground, with echo's of laughter drowning the strength you have, bit by bit. -- (this line sort of launches the poem at the reader as a feeling they don't feel yet. maybe try to word it so that they get this feeling for themselves, or word it so it's coming from you, the writer, not so much the reader.)
realization came too soon,
I was in hell -- (again, a little more original wording would be better for the impact here. i use an online thesaurus if i get really stuck)
I cried
I struggled
I begged
Not a flimsy bit of mercy was given
and I felt that nothing i could do would possibly get me out. -- ("Not even a thin film of mercy coated the panic, and I was felled/helpless/good-word-for-feeling-stuck")
The ceiling mocked my tears
The ground tripped my escape,
pulling me only deeper into the repugnant cavity. (this is good because you bring the reader into the reality... clarifying the metaphor)
my efforts seemed pointless the weaker i became. (you said this already in the other stanza, so i don't think it's needed at all here; either that, or take out the 'seemed' to sound more definite)
it didn't take long for me to fade
nor to blend into the darkest matter I feared most.. -- (some good advice given to me was to cut out transition words if you can do it smoothly. and here, even if you just took out the 'nor' replacing with a semicolon, it might up the quality of the ending.)
all just IMHO... and i'm certainly no pro. [:
...It was like walking into a never ending black, narrow hall -- (because the rest of the poem is a mostly solid metaphor, you don't need the "It was like", maybe "It was a narrow hall with no end, black as grief")
with spaceously spread holes no bigger than the very tear drop you shed. -- (the imagery isn't very clear here, because i can't really picture where the holes are or what their place is in the metaphor... do they make the corridor cold?)
thick, hot, humid air suffocated* every breath* I* could manage. (no, they don't make it cold. :)
Every step you take has you collapsing back to the ground, with echo's of laughter drowning the strength you have, bit by bit. -- (this line sort of launches the poem at the reader as a feeling they don't feel yet. maybe try to word it so that they get this feeling for themselves, or word it so it's coming from you, the writer, not so much the reader.)
realization came too soon,
I was in hell -- (again, a little more original wording would be better for the impact here. i use an online thesaurus if i get really stuck)
I cried
I struggled
I begged
Not a flimsy bit of mercy was given
and I felt that nothing i could do would possibly get me out. -- ("Not even a thin film of mercy coated the panic, and I was felled/helpless/good-word-for-feeling-stuck")
The ceiling mocked my tears
The ground tripped my escape,
pulling me only deeper into the repugnant cavity. (this is good because you bring the reader into the reality... clarifying the metaphor)
my efforts seemed pointless the weaker i became. (you said this already in the other stanza, so i don't think it's needed at all here; either that, or take out the 'seemed' to sound more definite)
it didn't take long for me to fade
nor to blend into the darkest matter I feared most.. -- (some good advice given to me was to cut out transition words if you can do it smoothly. and here, even if you just took out the 'nor' replacing with a semicolon, it might up the quality of the ending.)
all just IMHO... and i'm certainly no pro. [:
