Change for an old soul

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I look in the glass pool
At who lays there
We are who we are
We are who we are

Dreaming of nothing but lies
As our heads fill with water
I'm just so much more than I can convey
To everyone and everything
Hello to seeing clearly

Once again
I slip and land
On something firm

Once again
I dive and brake
Always running never living

I watch the sky
Roll over me
And feel the ground
Move under me
But ghosts live here
And haunt this world
Which I've inhabited for far too long
So lets calm this raging fire
That's consumed more than you will ever know




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arianamw@gmail.com wrote:I look in the glass pool
At who lays there
We are who we are
[s]We are who we are[/s]

Dreaming of nothing but lies
As [s]our [/s]heads fill with water
I'm just so much more than I can convey
To everyone and everything
Hello to seeing clearly

Once again
I slip and land
On something firm

Once again
I dive and brake
Always running never living

I watch the sky
Roll over me
And feel the ground
Move under [s]me[/s]
But ghosts live here
And haunt this world
Which I[s]'ve[/s] inhabited for far too long
So [s]lets [/s]calm this raging fire
That[s]'s[/s] consumed more than you will ever know


Let's skip the constant shifts between "you" and "we/us". 3L2S is awkward diction. Perhaps: [s]I'm just [/s]so much more than [s]I [/s]can be conveyed.

I'm guessing the glass pool signifies life or something "deep" that you sink in but not enjoyed? I think you're trying too hard to be intellectual. Work on phrasing, detail is everything. I like the idea of ghosts living in the waters of the subconscious world. Expand, expand, expand.

-Medusa.
Alice: If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn't be, and what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?




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Medusa found all the mistakes I did so I can just tell you what I thought, which is still good. :D
I liked your word choice. The poem flowed well.
Keep writing.

~Rachael
Some say laughing is the best medicine but what do you do when you can't laugh anymore?

Multiple personalities are just good social skills.




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Hey there. :)

I gotta be honest, although it was okay, i can't help but be annoyed by the "intellectual-wannabe feel" interjection there in your poem. :( As much as the words flowed so gracefully as it was read, I felt it was too mature for your ideas. As the replies up there noticed, the transitions from one stanza to another kept me bouncing from one place and idea to another theme that scratched the whole concept of it being as a whole.

There was too much intricacy with so simple words that instead of the bulging emotions that needed to be seen, it was all irksome words. I sort of understood your stanzas [reading them individuall] but when connecting it, it somehow confused me. I don't know maybe it's just me but if this poem is something you dedicate to your readers, then might as well elaborate on it and make it reach us. :)

Overall, i still liked it and thought it was okay. There was that baleful touch of isolation i felt in your poem, which i usually root for. :D Just change some stuff and you're good to go.

Go gaga over writing! :D I see you've got something and it's yet to make you an Emily Dickinson :P

<3 JACE

[need me to critique more of yours, im just a PM away. :-*]
In heaven there is only you, on earth you are all i want. -Psalms 73:25




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Firstly, if you're not gonna bother punctating your poem then less people will review it. Next I felt nothing from this. No need to feel any emotions. Now this poem had two major problems, it's (A) Navel Gazing (B) 'Poor Me' poem. Rather than telling us show this. You never give us any proper reason to feel any sympathy or empathy. It also does seem like you're trying too hard to sound intellectual. Overall: Get rid of the 'poor me' element, and 'navelgazing'. Also if you're gonna write a poem, do your best, not over your best. Don't try too hard to make it sound really smart.

Good luck
VSN
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]




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I watch the sky
Roll over me
And feel the ground
Move under me


I enjoyed this part especially. Of what you mean. It was very outgoing



We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
— William Shakespeare