In the Quiet Places

The discomfited fidgeting in my hand,
the twitch as my fingers rub the door frame,
five times too many,
five times too many,
five times too many. and again.

While the man in my freezer knocks unceasingly,
the glint in his eye breaking off in ice cubes from
the gleaming stainless steel dispenser.

I’ll confront him today. deliberately.
tell him I’ve had enough of his whispering,
his listening in on phone conversations. “Lines are tapped”,
mother says from beneath the floorboards,
“They know you’re here, they’ve known for a while.”
just in time. another knock, another shell erupts
through stainless steel appliances. sirens.

The roots stretch net-like across my forearms. bugged.
surgical tools rescued from the outside dumpster, mother
draws incision across the dotted line. another knock, now two.

Pull the nets across the river basin. like fishing, reel in and repeat.
final will and testament written boldly on wall. baptised myself
in blood that reeks of the potentiality of death.

Cameron wrote:The discomfited fidgeting in my hand,
the twitch as my fingers rub the door frame,
five times too many,
five times too many,
five times too many. and again.

While the man in my freezer knocks unceasingly,
the glint in his eye breaking off in ice cubes from
the gleaming stainless steel dispenser.

I’ll confront him today. deliberately.
tell him I’ve had enough of his whispering,
his listening in on phone conversations. “Lines are tapped”.
My mother says from beneath the floorboards,
“They know you’re here, they’ve known for a while.”
Just in time. another knock, another shell erupts
through stainless steel appliances. Sirens.

The roots stretch net-like across forearms. Bugged.
surgical tools rescued from the outside dumpster, mother
draws incision across the dotted line. another knock, now two.

Pull the nets across the river basin. like fishing, reel in and repeat.
Final will and testament written boldly on wall. Baptised myself
in blood that reeks of the potentiality of death,
one litre too many.

I found some captilization problems and punctuation problems, you might wanna change that, to make it feel right. The poem seemed dark, like I think you intended to be.

Just fix those problems, and I think its good. Keep writing!

Wow, so I'm seeing that this person is going crazy, am I correct?

Some of the errors are a little distracting, so cleaning those up will help with everything I think.

The second half is a little harder for me to understand quite what you're getting at, but maybe because it's late at night, I'm not sure!

Awesome job, though! Very raw and emotional!

The thing with poetry is that punctuation is flexible. Punctuation and format is all an instrument used to better convey your message, your metaphors, etc, etc. The lack of capitualization and punctuation is to better illustrate the unraveling of an unsound mind. A shattered mind no longer adheres to the boundaries of reality. It cannot be constrained by the limits of normal thoughts, or captured within the configurement of punctuation and grammatical correctness.

very nice I applaud you for your darkness and emotions very much the style I like and a lot of people haven't been getting it but you.....wow keep it up!

Incredibly vivid!

The varying length of the lines, and certain phrases repeated, gives it so much more drive and punch. I like it very much! Keep it up!

All the best,

Goldie