Drifting Shell

Hi there!

As you've seen in the other reviews, I totally agree on the format. It's easier to read, and it's how poems are supposed to be written. They're called stanzas. I also don't think you should have made the font bigger, or colored. That's just what I think.

This is kind of difficult to read:

Drifting thru the tides of something I cannot place, my body flowing ever freely thru something that feels like space. I cannot open my eyes but yet I can see clearly around me. I wonder to myself what this place is. I ask myself if I am dead. I ask myself am I alive. I ask myself who I am and where I am going.Lost I do not think I am, but I am not yet found ether. I am as I am something that is never quiet one thing or the other. I am always that which is in between but never that which is scene. Too often I am just obscene. Too often I am what they never want to see. Too often I am me. Far too often I am just what you need.

I believe this is how it's supposed to be written:

Drifting through the tides of something I cannot place,
my body flowing ever freely through something that feels like space,
I cannot open my eyes but yet I can see clearly around me.
I wonder to myself what this place is,
I ask myself if I am dead.
I ask myself am I alive.
I ask myself who I am and where I am going.
Lost I do not think I am, but I am not yet found either.
I am as I am something that is never quite one thing or the other.
I am always that which is inbetween but never that which is seen.
Too often I am just obscene.
Too often I am what they never want to see.
Too often I am me.
Far too often I am just what you need.

Anyways! Now that I have the nit-picks away, let's talk about your poem! I think it has a lot of emotions. I really like the concept of your poem, life's mystery that you can't really solve (that's how I think of it). Great job and keep it up!

- gleek456 <3

Hey.

I strongly suggest you change this poem from paragraph form. Also change the font. Its quite annoying...

Drifting thru through the tides of something I cannot place,
my body flowing ever freely thru through something that feels like space.
I cannot open my eyes but yet I can see clearly around me.
I wonder to myself what this place is. I ask myself if I am dead.
I ask myself, "Am I alive?"
I ask myself who I am and where I am going.
Lost I do not think I am, but I am not yet found ether.
I am as I am something that is never quiet one thing or the other.
I am always that which is in between but never that which is scene.
Too often I am just obscene.
Too often I am what they never want to see.
Too often I am me.
Far too often I am just what you need

The rhyming is off in places and forces in others. You need to work on this poem. I broke it up in just one of the ways you can.


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-Boo

I'm going to get all the really nitpicky stuff out of the way first.

I would strongly suggest you format this poem, and arrange it into clearly separate lines. See how much easier it is to read this:

Chaos29Kataleana wrote:Drifting through the tides of something I cannot place,
My body flowing ever freely through something that feels like space.
I cannot open my eyes,
But yet I can see clearly around me.
I wonder to myself what this place is.
I ask myself if I am dead.
I ask myself am I alive.
I ask myself who I am and where I am going.
Lost I do not think I am, but I am not yet found either.
I am as I am, something that is never quite one thing or the other.
I am always that which is inbetween but never that which is seen.
Too often I am just obscene.
Too often I am what they never want to see.
Too often I am me.
Far too often I am just what you need.

Than this:

Chaos29Kataleana wrote:Drifting thru the tides of something I cannot place, my body flowing ever freely thru something that feels like space. I cannot open my eyes but yet I can see clearly around me. I wonder to myself what this place is. I ask myself if I am dead. I ask myself am I alive. I ask myself who I am and where I am going.
Lost I do not think I am, but I am not yet found ether. I am as I am something that is never quiet one thing or the other. I am always that which is in between but never that which is scene. Too often I am just obscene. Too often I am what they never want to see. Too often I am me. Far too often I am just what you need.

I've also added the grammar nitpicks in the first quote, because nobody wants to hear a grammar ramble. But I will say that you do need to proofread your work, particularly as the quiet/quite and scene/seen mistakes wouldn't be picked up by a spellchecker.

Now on to the actual poem. Some of your lines don't really flow. I have the exact same problem, and what helps me is to read my poems out loud to myself and see if it sounds right. Despite this, I liked the base idea of the poem, and the mystery you managed to incorporate. The line in blue doesn't make sense. maybe it's just me being tired and stupid, but if I were you I would change it.

This poem is passable, but with a few tweaks, I'm sure you could make it really good! Keep writing!