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cough up an avalanche of mottled blue-bottles

by Pompadour


A/N: Midnight poetry. Tear it apart, please.
~*~

it's one of those days when the world's but a whirlpool,
sucking you in, and swallowing you like a cheap pill of paracetamol.
'cause no-one likes headaches and the world likes them less,
and it's giving me a migraine to listen to these broken thoughts everyday.
medicines don't cure migraines, they just remind you that you're so desperate
that you'd swallow the moon if it made you feel better.

mankind searches for purpose, ain't that purpose enough?
what's the purpose of purpose anyway?
mankind's always thinking, i swear he never stops;
if you've dreamed of being a mind-reader, be glad you ain't one.
there are too many thoughts flooding this world anyway.
and damn it all, why don't people ever stop thinking?

it's one of those days when i'm wheezing in perfume
and coughing out mottled blue-bottles in the sky.
watch them float and watch them leap until the heavens fall asleep
and then they'll scream because hell, we're in one heck of a mess anyway.
"this doesn't make sense!" they scream. "tell us what to do!
we've got shards of glass five-inches deep in the wall.
we're breaking down -- we're caught, in a web that's burning up
and burning down and carrying
our remains with it."

and i just shake my head because there's nothing i can do.
so you just live in your concrete castles and leave me be.
you shake out your heels and fluff up your hair,
you roam these wide cliff-sides and you pin them to paper.
you're satisfied with your shin-digs and your worldly affairs, and sometimes
i can't help but wonder, if really mankind has nothing to do.
and when you cause trouble -- oh man, you cause a lot of trouble --
you turn to me and blame me for all your troubles.
I feel gratified that you remember me, but could you stop all this noise?
'cause you can gulp down paracetamol but i only have you.

and i like these migraines less with every passing day.


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Sun May 25, 2014 2:07 am
PeanutPhoebe wrote a review...



Hey! Here to get you out of the Green Room! I like your thoughts behind this poem; they're very...thought-provoking. Great description, huh? :) So, I read that this is a "midnight poem" and to be honest I can kind of tell... No offense intended! First off, something that often bothers me with poems is that so many times they don't have rhythm. Now yours does, of course, but it is a little awkward. It's just not an easy beat. Yes, this is free verse, so it normally has less of that regular rhythm, but still... I always thought that poems should just kind of read themselves, if you know what I mean. When read aloud, the beat and rhythm should come easily without even having to think about it. But that's just my opinion. I love your descriptions. They're so easy to see, but (like I've told a lot of authors) you're not wordy, which is good. The formatting is great. One other complaint though. You have a lot of grammatical errors, mostly involving punctuation or capitalization. Those things, while small, can make a huge difference in the piece. I just feel like you have a lot of fragments or comma splices because of it. But over all, this poem was definitely an interesting read! Keep writing!

Sincerely,

PeanutPhoebe




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Sun May 25, 2014 2:04 am
niteowl wrote a review...



Hi there Pompadour! Niteowl here to review a fellow Ultramarine this fine Review Day!

First off...you wrote this with a migraine? I can barely function when mine hit, let alone write something this amazing. Color me impressed.

'cause no-one likes headaches and the world likes them less,


Not crazy about "the world likes them less". It's pretty vague and boring compared to the rest of it. I'd offer a suggestion, but I'm not sure what you were getting at. That the world doesn't understand and expects you to function normally anyway? That we just pop pills instead of dealing with the pain in a better way?

Side note: paracetamol has a different name (acetaminophen) in the US. Also if this is a regular thing, don't you have something stronger?

Second stanza: it's interesting, but I don't feel it fits very well with the rest of the piece. The last three lines could springboard their own poem.

Third stanza: I assume by bluebottles you mean the jellyfish and not the fly? Another cultural name-confusion: I've heard of them as Portuguese man-o-wars. This stanza is beautiful, but I'm still not sure what they're supposed to be symbolizing. The pain in your head?

Fourth stanza: Aha, now I see you're talking about someone else (your mother or sister?).

and when you cause trouble -- oh man, you cause a lot of trouble --
you turn to me and blame me for all your troubles.


You say trouble three times...a bit much. I think the first line is okay, maybe smooth out the second, like "you turn to me and blame me for it all."

Overall, this is a great piece and probably the closest I'll ever get to tearing you apart. :P Keep writing!




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Sun May 25, 2014 1:21 am
fallenoutofgrace wrote a review...



First off * applauds* well done on tis thought provoking poem. I honestly see noting to tear apart so I apologize for not being any help there. But I will say what I enjoyed about this poem. I enjoyed how the speaker sounds to be annoyed that the thoughts of the world and of people keep bombarding them. I also enjoyed your clever imagery such as, " this doesn't make sense!" they scream. "tell us what to do!
we've got shards of glass five-inches deep in the wall.
we're breaking down -- we're caught, in a web that's burning up
and burning down and carrying
our remains with it."

I liked this because the imagery was intense yet amazing. I liked how you pretty much nailed the thoughts of people at their lowest in an absolute brilliant way. I also enjoyed this line, " and i like these migraines less with every passing day. " because it aided in the inner workings of the speakers mind and their thoughts instead of the surrounding thoughts around the speaker. No typos that I saw and your formatting was good. aiding in the annoyance an depression(?) that the speaker process. overall, well done and keep it up





See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security.
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451