Summer Meets Its End

There is no grass in my park;
only hot metal pipes from the oven
of a molten color that laughs.
These spiders' webs are tangled
for us to climb and taste the sour sun.
So unlike the sweet cotton clouds...
whose tears jump down, and like violins,
so sad in their own beauty
and filled with mesmerizing entropy,
bring forth the sting of December.

---

It needs a lot of editing. Suggestions anyone?

It sounds pretty, but I think you have to work on the transitions. The first and second line really don't go with each other, and you use so many images, many of them that don't really connect with each other, that the poem becomes kaleidoscopic and confusing. Don't get sucked in that idea of thinking that pretty imagery is all you need. This also has to make sense. Step away and figure out what are the Important things that you want to say. How does park connect with oven and how do either of those connect to spider webs and violins?

Craziness is wonderful in poetry, but make it make a bit more sense.

This is a very moving piece and quite well written. There are some confusing parts with the connections between different analogies; places where things don't seem to fit together. From the park to the oven is a bit of a jump. Still, it is a strong and well crafted piece. Good job.

Well, I'm no poet, let me tell you that. But I believe that there are a few things that a prose reader can point out, and seeing as it's all I can offer, I will.

Rhythm. Even in prose this is important, but in some cases of poetry, rhythm is everything. But the problem with this is that there is no rhythm to the words. They're just pretty syllables strung together in hopes of working. And they do, they're pretty words and pretty phrases, but put it together and it can be quite a mess.

This is all in the punctuation, for example:

So unlike the sweet cotton clouds...

whose tears jump down, and like violins,

Why the ellipsis? You're splitting up a thought with no visible purpose to it being split up. In my opinion.

Okay, so from what I've read and seen, most poetry (even those which seem to wander from one impossible thought to the next) have some purpose to the syllables and pattern of the words. Not like traditional, rhyming, kid-stuff, but everything is...purposeful. Which is what makes poetry-in my opinion-so hard.

Keeping in mind that I am not poet, this is just my prose-sided opinion. Just because it's a poem doesn't mean it ceases to be writing anymore. I guess. So yeah.

Best of luck with your writing!
-JC