Witchery

I've been reading a lot of Dickinson lately.
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As I lay here in my night,
a witchcraft comes to steal my sight
and by the bones of Tramps–
which built my brittle-cage –
to house my soul – is damp;
broken down by dreams
ever-so wickedly.
And as the potions of my brain
start to explode – I feel evil
pass my soul – and never
have I felt such passion.

That was so deep it hurt my head.

Review time!

That was pretty awesome, I have to admit.

I couldn't find anything wrong with it. Which is common with poems because it's all about the author's interpretation of how the story should be told.

I particularly liked the formatting. It doesn't is unpredictable and at a glance seems unorganized but it makes the reader read it properly. The way you want it to be read. Which many writers shy away from because they feel they might loose their audience. I like the parallel of it seeming unorganized but in reality the poem has a beautiful flow and is interesting to both read and analyze.

This is one of the poems where if you read it just once - whoosh - goes right over your head. I was captured enough to want to read it multiple times in one sitting. The description and comparisons are lovely!

which built my brittle-cage –
to house my soul – is damp;
broken down by dreams
ever-so wickedly.

Definitely my favorite part.

This was a little more of a praising than it was a review, but I would love to read more work similar to this.

Just PM me if you want me to review any of your other works.

Thanks,
Carden

hey it was lovely i enjoyed reading this poem your rythm of tamps and damp was inspiring.
But I would love to know cause am not too sure of what your idea is of witchery cause I thought at first you see it as some thing bad but your last expression
"and never
have I felt such passion."
Seems to say otherwise in essence it looks like you are not decisive as what you where really describing.
I really enjoyed your poem

I was thinking of Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde when I read this.

I have just a few nitpicks, but otherwise it's a decent poem.

The line that contains the phrase "–is damp" is confusing; I cannot find what the dampness is supposed to refer to. The witchcraft? The bones? The night? Please clarify.

Now, the line "ever–so wickedly" has a hyphen which completely ruins the momentum. The reader has to slam on the brakes (ERRRRRHHHTTTTT!) before continuing onto the "so". Plus it seems like there's a moment of hesitation for the narrator, as if he doesn't want to tell the audience about the wickedness part. Or did you mean the hyphen to speed up the reading of "ever" and "so"? Regardless, it's rather odd.

One more thing. I'm wondering about the "potions of my brain". Do you mean potions concocted with your cranium, or some kind of liquid running around up there...? And the whole explosion concept is really, really weird. It's such a little section that a little tweaking will do wonders.

So little things, but other than that, I think it's a good piece of work.

See you around.

–antimelrose