Got thicket juice in my pocket.

I am disgusted with myself.

----

God, have you seen—
I hated over a one thousand time distance
looking like a sunken cake or sunken eyes, half cooked
and I wasn’t made how you were made in the middle
I wasn’t made how you were made
I wasn’t made so I can’t change
the honey garden I indulged in, in it I grew,
in it I saw and knew humans, I saw
the stretched light that was tape at my head, and stayed
like that. This long-bow time it loves my stomach
and will leave it cold
and love my stomach

God, it—
breaking my spine’s how they justify
gouging that beetle-sized hole in my head
flicked me and I am one man hurtling
with airy substance
I got a hair, I got that, I got that in my pocket, God it—
Electric chairs are stars in my eyes.
“I knew once a boy
and thoughts die golden.”

Verbena, I'm very happy to "review" this. Nonsense aside, critique and criticism following.

God, have you seen—
I hated over a one thousand time distance
looking like a sunken cake or sunken eyes, half cooked
and I wasn’t made how you were made in the middle
I wasn’t made how you were made
I wasn’t made so I can’t change
the honey garden I indulged in, in it I grew,
in it I saw and knew humans, I saw
the stretched light that was tape at my head, and stayed
like that. This long-bow time it loves my stomach
and will leave it cold
and love my stomach

Ha, you don't write with mercy for your reader. It can be both a good and bad thing depending on execution. Your first six lines establish an interesting dual premise that takes careful, multiple readings to truly catch what you write, else it is quite easy to miss the motive of the speaker. And then, you cleverly obfuscate any real semblance of the speaker. This is modern poetry I prefer where it doesn't just barf imagery and location and didactic writing at you. For instance the first line "God, have you seen—" is actually chosen quite well and abruptly halted to enter into a very conflicted dialogue by the speaker. Most people can't do this. They don't understand when to stop and how much to leave and rely too much on a symbol to understand that a symbol is not the focus of the work, rather the lack of the symbol beyond itself hence that which is not it.

The following lines I adore

I hated over a one thousand time distance
looking like a sunken cake or sunken eyes, half cooked
and I wasn’t made how you were made in the middle
I wasn’t made how you were made
I wasn’t made so I can’t change

for the intention, but I'm bothered by the use of "distance". You're smart and are aware of the constraints of brief poetry, and it's obvious you're trying to work very hard in the confines of it to get the right words and images. Nonetheless distance does little here but create a loose double meaning to the lines afterward as to what this speaker is describing. Is it God? The speaker? Some land? Really, I'll say this now rather than later, it doesn't have to be obvious, and I prefer it being vague. More on precisely what is within this work later. Your imagery and word choice is on first glance superb, but this last line mirrors your choice of distance before. Is this really communicating something you want? The ideas of distance and change are going to be what a reader takes from this, and then what does this do? So either this has been going on for a long time, the conflict of the speaker and the inability to change or something is denying them the ability to change because they were not made as the desired state or a preferred state. Interesting, but it doesn't pop out and kick me in the nads I like wanted it to.

the honey garden I indulged in, in it I grew,
in it I saw and knew humans, I saw
the stretched light that was tape at my head, and stayed
like that. This long-bow time it loves my stomach
and will leave it cold
and love my stomach

And now back to my abrupt what the reader takes from "this" moment above. You made a turn here in direction and focus. So we have a voyeur? A loner? To some degree I'm getting this mashed together feeling of everything, yet, your speaker narrates quite well in your careful choice of phrase and limiting everything to the bare essential of necessary detail. That's ok, but I want to see you open up and let it out. Sort of perhaps the frustration of your speaker, not being able to really be what they like, but a fractured version. I do notice a similar phrase here to your first line "long-bow time" and perhaps ties back to distance? Nah, don't think so.

God, it—
breaking my spine’s how they justify
gouging that beetle-sized hole in my head
flicked me and I am one man hurtling
with airy substance
I got a hair, I got that, I got that in my pocket, God it—
Electric chairs are stars in my eyes.
“I knew once a boy
and thoughts die golden.”

Again, you choose just the right amount of words and choice of words to give feeling and take feeling. The pace of the poem and the voice of the speaker is obviously hurried or vibrant with some emotion; and now we can observe your ability to manipulate words and sensory detail to your advantage. In some way I see this as deconstructionist and also deliberately being vague as if to escape any label. Admirable, the lines here much stronger than some of your others. Perhaps you like describing pain? Wounding something? Oh just kidding.

The final four lines are particularly in my opinion the strongest part. "God it" loses the meaning of the deity and yet retains it in your next line.

So Verbana, what was your intention here? A walk through the subconscious? Stream of consciousness? A dump of detail and vague complexity? There is in my opinion, little reason to try and see what you're leading to here, as I think you're trying to show the reader your ability and poetic identity "here is my M.O., have fun!" as you often choose to see things. I can't say this review will help you per say, because in many ways this type of work merely suggests and presents but never really cares about what the reader can draw from it, and why I find it post-modern and deconstructionist. Funny thing, most of those typical poems are didactic, and I hate it. It sucks out the ability to speak and be genuine. You use imagery without trying to show off, and you also show your ability, but the catch is it's not a gimmick. And for that I enjoyed this. Most people may not, but reading and analyzing this is rewarding. Sorry if you find this useless.

I don't really get that. I don't. but I love the words in this poem, the words are really good. But what is the motive of this poem?

My dear, you never fail to impress it's good to see your work.

I'm going to keep this short because only one thing that bothered me.
Everything is so delicately placed and you've got the conflicted diaologue that follows in suit.
But reading this was like swallowing a freaking cinder block.
The words work together so well together I think you've forgotten about readability.

I hated over a one thousand time distance
looking like a sunken cake or sunken eyes, half cooked
and I wasn’t made how you were made in the middle
I wasn’t made how you were made

It's all so well worded but reading it is like gnashing your teeth together as you try to swallow shards of glass.
It drags itself down the reader's throat painfully, more so then needed to reflect the conflict in this poem.
It's kind of like tightwire walking.

You can do it like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvmXZ9W_aqk

or like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjs5fUInrYA

There are different levels to doing things right yes?

But you make me feel useless and it's unpleasant, so I'll stop here.
We'd be better off chatting about this, which we must do.

Kamas

there

This is really lovely. I have to admit I find it a bit odd. I like that you didn't just say "This is a simple, weird poem for fun" it has a lot of complexity to it.

It has a nice lyrical quality.

However I find that it can be quite dense in times. I think you could try to simplify it and space it out a little bit.

Besides that, great.