Resting

Resting in darkness,
time-worn comfort
like a mother's womb,
the place hidden between
sleep and wakefulness,
warmth pressing down
like summer's heat.
A sigh, shift,
the blackness bends
to accept you anew.
Mouth curving, glad
to still be held in
a warm embrace.

Until your alarm blares
and you need to face the world.

A/N- Working-ish title. Suggestions welcome.

Hi Rosey,

Your imagery is beautiful and this flows really nicely. The form works really well with the piece.

I love;
"time-worn comfort
like a mother's womb,
the place hidden between
sleep and wakefulness".


I'd change "like a heavy blanket" because it's a little stale, and also the speaker is presumably under a blanket, so I think a different simile would work better.

I love "the blackness bends
to accept you anew."

I'd change "peace" because it's vague.

The last two lines are great, but I'd make them their own stanza to heighten the shock, or even leave "Until" in the first stanza, and that would also emphasize your full -stop.

Hope this helps,

Jas

Heya,

I like the imagery-it's very clear to picture this state of being. The movement is brilliantly familiar.

When I think of a place between wake and rest I think of Limbo or purgatory.

Loved it

Hi Rosey Unicorn,

I don't know where to begin. Every part of this poem is either pretentious or undercooked, resulting in a blend of both that ails the appetite.

Rosey Unicorn wrote:Resting in darkness,
time-worn comfort
like a mother's womb,
the place hidden between
sleep and wakefulness,

Firstly, time-worn is an odd adjective when describing sleep. The comfort itself is worn by time? How does that make any sense?

Secondly, "mother's womb" as a description of sanctuary is a cliche too bland to taste anymore except as satire, unless you manage to do it in a very creative or original way of which I have no idea currently. Unfortunately, you do not, and so need to scrap it and find something else to compare sleep to.

Thirdly, "wakefullness" is a horrible word to use in general. "Sleep and wakefulness". Were you just trying to find an antonym for "sleep" and just threw in the nearest one you could find, without actually focusing on how it sounded and what it made the reader feel? This entire stanza just got destroyed because of that one utterly pretentious and unsuccessful word. Remove it.

Fourthly, "place hidden between..." doesn't really show the reader anything. How do you put something between sleep and consciousness? I'm sure there are poetic ways to describe it, but you fail to do it, instead saying something extremely vague like "hidden". Hidden from what? Hidden how? Reflect upon this.

warmth pressing down
like summer's heat.

Another cliche.

A sigh, shift,
the blackness bends
to accept you anew.
Mouth curving, glad
to still be held in
a warm embrace.

Blackness accepts you again? From... what? Has light shined in? Please, don't just put in pretty descriptions because they sound good. Think about how they connect to the rest of the piece.

You used "warm" twice in this poem already. Surely there's another word out there that means the same thing.

Until your alarm blares
and you need to face the world.

I revise what I said about that one previous word ruining the poem. This mini-stanza was what shot the poem in the leg and left it bleeding. It's such a gimmicky ending, such a cheap shot, a cop out. You don't even describe anything, save for the foggy "description" of an alarm ringing. What? What do you even mean by facing the world? How is this stanza not cute to the extent that it looks as though it's been purposefully stuffed with sugar and winks and candy?

A/N- Working-ish title. Suggestions welcome.

Your title isn't the only thing that requires work. Sometimes the way to repair an unstable building is to demolish it and start over. This piece is basically a house that's been built with wet mud on top of a windy hill. It's going to collapse because of the sheer and staggering amount of issues that went into constructing it, whether you like it or not, so take it down and redefine what you're trying to say and how you say it. There's nothing to be saved the way you have it now.

Hope that helped,
Galerius

loved it. thats all i can say. it was brilliant

Hey Rosey!

I actually really like this. The way you've written it flows in a way that seems to incorporate the idea of rest by flowing sort of slowly. So nice job on that!

One thing I really love about your mini stanza is the change in the way you write, blunt almost, which does then bring to mind the whole waking up scenario. So you've done a really good job with the flow of the poem, it works well.

warmth pressing down
like summer's heat.

With these two lines I would say that summer's heat does tend to be a phrase used quite a lot in poetry. Also, in my mind summer's heat can make one think of something rather oppressive and humid, rather than the gentle warmth that I'm imagining in your poem.

Other than that, I don't have any problems with this. Nice job!

~Amy