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I liked this because of the feel it had, and the choice of words that you employed. the imagery and metaphors were vivid and expressive, if a little confusing. my favorite stanza was the final one, because of the frequency with which you used words with latin roots. "universal consciousness" and "omnipotent in perspective" are terms which give the poetry an elegant and complex feel. it's the difference between "fire" which comes from germanic languages, and "conflagration" which comes form latin languages. germanic based words are useful for more brutal or shocking writing, where as latin based words, when used with the same consitancy seen in the final stanza here, can express very complicated feelings. I also liked the contrast and duality of the lines at the end, as with "feeble yet omnipotent" and "both a sin and a tragedy". the repetition of that was a nice effect.

if I were to suggest how to improve (disclaimer: as with all poetry, this is just my opinion and not objective fact) I'd say you should add more rhythm. free verse can be good for some things, and it may be the only way you can accurately express your thoughts here, but poetry with rhythm always feels more powerful and inspiring to me. you don't even have to change any content, just tweak the format and syllables a bit so that lines can match with each other. if someone in the background can tap a beat to the reading of any one stanza without it sounding off, you know you've gotten the rhythm right. I might also suggest being more aware of the different sounds the words you chose make, and how they fit together aestetically. the word "precisely" in line two really threw me off, because it has a distinctly scientific feel, but the rest of the stanza had a very experiential and philosphical feel. I also couldn't quite figure out the significance of "eighty-nine miles per hour", and the only thing that came to mind when I tried was 'back to the future'.

all in all though, I liked it a lot, and would be interested to see what your thoughts on my opinions are. if you have time, I'd love it if you would write on my wall or pm me a response to what you think about my suggestions and whether your favorite things are similar to mine.
your friend,
---Psudiname

I have sincerely missed your work like no other. That is all.

AliyahPillage wrote:I really love this poem, I just decided that I would make all spelling and grammar mistakes red so that you could see where they are so I copied the whole poem. I love how short the poems is it makes it easier to understand.

i have dreams of dying, of breaking through the cosmic void
at precisely eighty-nine miles per hour, crunching bones
through the plexiglass wall between my face and god's,
and every night, waking in a cold sweat, i write these scenes--
reels and tapes from an ambien drive--and i pretend to have power,
pretend to have control over their great outcome.

there's a terror, smooth and quick like a nightingale,
and she likes to kiss my neck, to slide her fingers--weeds--
through the mesh of cobras behind my ears. she'll follow me, i think,
until this night i dream of, until i'm broken like the sound barrier,
like the skin of an unripe fruit between vicious molars.

the only power i have now is the release of thoughts,
the feed of energy into the universal consciousness;
this is godlike strength, feeble yet omnipotent in perspective,
and this makes my inevitable loss both sin and tragedy,
drama and rogue desire.

I have nothing else to say other than nice job keep up the good work.

I really love this poem, I just decided that I would make all spelling and grammar mistakes red so that you could see where they are so I copied the whole poem. I love how short the poems is it makes it easier to understand.

i have dreams of dying, of breaking through the cosmic void
at precisely eighty-nine miles per hour, crunching bones
through the plexiglass wall between my face and god's,
and every night, waking in a cold sweat, i write these scenes--
reels and tapes from an ambien drive--and i pretend to have power,
pretend to have control over their great outcome.

there's a terror, smooth and quick like a nightingale,
and she likes to kiss my neck, to slide her fingers--weeds--
through the mesh of cobras behind my ears. she'll follow me, i think,
until this night i dream of, until i'm broken like the sound barrier,
like the skin of an unripe fruit between vicious molars.

the only power i have now is the release of thoughts,
the feed of energy into the universal consciousness;
this is godlike strength, feeble yet omnipotent in perspective,
and this makes my inevitable loss both sin and tragedy,
drama and rogue desire.

Quit your day job, be a lyricist.