Finding a Path

Finding the Path

Walking along a stretch
of green in the dark.

Periodic lights blink and
flicker red and yellow,
giving the illusion of light.

Pools of shadow hint
at vacancy but stand
full and firm beneath
my feet.

Hesitant footsteps, moving
through the mist of my breath.
Tombstones line up behind
barbed wire fences, the imprisoned
dead, grey-faced and worn.
Is that a an opening to the left?
Deep green weeds grow
enmeshed in the metal.
Turn to the right, gaping
holes in the planks of wood
standing tall before the houses,
silent sentinels in the night.

Distractions; stars glare down,
the wind whispers promises
of, but never warrants, action.
Wandering direction, wavering
thought; no straight line to
walk through the increasing
gloom.

*

I just added the non-sequential, stand alone line out wide... Not sure if it should be there...

I liked this a lot, your imagery is great.
I especially liked:

"Periodic lights blink and
flicker red and yellow,
giving the illusion of light.

Pools of shadow hint
at vacancy but stand
full and firm beneath
my feet. "


And


"Wandering direction, wavering
thought; no straight line to
walk through the increasing
gloom. "


Very original approach of the topic and again: The use of images makes it really special.
Well done, keep it up

Hello!

Indeed, *nods head approvingly* this is very good. It ticked a heck off alot of boxes that I look for in poetry. It was very frank and honest, not holding back or ashamed to allow the speaker to take control of their emotions. Some of the imagery is very thoughtful:

Pools of shadow hint

at vacancy but stand

full and firm beneath

my feet.

This is very intriguing, the concept of shadows being solid- which, I suppose because we usually see them reflected on hard surfaces, they are. You've really pushed the limits in this.

I love the rising theme and creepy atmosphere. This stanza was gripping:

Hesitant footsteps, moving

through the mist of my breath.

Tombstones line up behind

barbed wire fences, the imprisoned

dead, grey-faced and worn.

Have you been reading allot? The vocabulary is excellent, your voice superb and poetic techniques practically faultless. But of course, that would be letting you off the hook wayy to easily. I would recommend continuing to read poetry so that your work can become more condensed- i.e. you will begin to find yourself saying what you want to say in less words that right now. Also, practice and practice! This is great, though. Well done.

Ooh, I hadn't noticed that this even got responses, lol.

I don't read poetry, period. I haven't and I don't - its not really my thing, but sometimes I feel like expressing myself in this way.

Glad you guys liked it, thanks for reading and commenting.

You know, in my opinion, the stand-alone-line saves the poem. Up until that point, everything seems very static; statements of images that are put out there and then just fall. The fact that that line is a question, and that it's apart from everything else, adds a dynamic to what would otherwise be just a sequence of observances (I like how each of these observations become progressively more detailed). In that sense, I really do appreciate this poem for what it is, but in general it's not my cup of tea (not that that really matters in the end) ^_^

Fair enough.

I don't really write poetry - just every now and then when I feel something should be expressed in such a fashion. I just thought it would be cool if I could describe my passage through an alleyway (which seemed to me to be allegory for life and choices, etc) in which each stanza had one line more then the last.

Thank you for your comment.