the clouds these days are geysers
against the paleness and the stiff airs.
breathing fast and panting
and keeping the earth from crumbling beneath their weight.
thin, spindly fingers
griping at the trees so they don't fall.
(they might be cirrus)
like old, abandoned houses--
they have no windows.
I cannot see past the grey, tangled lines.
the sky forgot to make its bed today.
there is clay, red dust, shifting around my toes
and it sears like hot iron.
but I know when night comes, the ground will be cool,
the skies holding the earth up
for me to sleep on.
the shadows of trees make me think of oblivion,
and how some day my thoughts will be scattered in the sand.
or splayed apart in the dust like cirrus clouds.
there are places where free thoughts and free words
and contemplation mean oblivion,
and places where dolphins of ruptured lights glide along the walls.
cloud-shadows on my ceiling that I remember from long ago,
but home is where shards of glass spear from the walls
and figures with naked, bleeding feet
rub sandpaper down each others throats.
mamma did nothing but scream through those nights.
I would listen to the sounds of the clouds
hefting mounds of mist against my windowsill.
the silence breathes nameless melodies tonight. the clouds pant.
I watch the trees carve words through the troposphere in black, screaming ink.
shadows dance from beneath my feet.
I look up at the sky, at the domes, pillars
and pale, grey arches.
swirling white milk on cold mornings.
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,734 Reviews
Timmy here!
You are amazing that way.
Reading through this, I honestly don't know what to say... The piece is empowering, beautiful, flowing, has such an amazing message and the descriptions. Gah. What do I nitpick on? I have said it before, and I will say it again. Whenever I read your poetry, your novels - your anything - it wouldn't matter if it had your name on it or someone else's. To me, your style has such a thisisPompadour quality to it that I can just see and know immediately who wrote it. What a gift to have.
Now that I have told you this is perfect, let me see if there is anything I can critique. (Does that even compute?)
Unless this was intended, how you do your Em-dashes (--) isn't correct because the formatting is messed up. Not a big deal, but in Microsoft Word(assuming you use that), the way you do it is this: word here(nospace)--(nospace)next word. I hope that makes sense and actually works. Otherwise, it may be an issue with your settings. Bleh. - Not a nitpick.
<3 PERFECT. But should its be possessive? I am not completely sure, but it seems like it should.
I think when you say clay and then red dust, you are somewhat repeating yourself. I mean, dust is dirt, right? And clay is red? Sooo... aren't they the same thing? I think it would be much easier and flowier to remove one comma and simply say: There is clay shifting around my toes - or have it be red dust. Both are purty imagery.
The first line there seems like it should be its own sentence, because the second seems to have it's own message - a new one. I don't know. But I read through this several times, trying to piece it together and trying to have it make more sense, but I couldn't. The way it's worded makes me think it should be it's own sentence.
I think these should have their own lines - each sentence. You did it before in the poem, so I think it would make more sense, and give the second sentence kind of a boom! mentality.
Your imagery in this poem was simply marvelous. Beautiful metaphors and similes all throughout. Some of them sound so bizarre at first, and then it's like: Oh... I get it. Beautiful.
That was just too perfect for words to spout admiration for. <3 Your capability of taking something that seems completely out of the ordinary, and fashion into your poem is just an amazing thing. Like who knew cirrus could be all those things? Not just clouds, but your mind, the thoughts, the trees. They all painted a picture so beautifully, it was just breathtaking. Seriously. Every time I look at your poetry, wanting to write you a review because that is what pals do... I wonder what to say, and what I can help you with. Because, quite honestly, I don't know what else to nitpick, or what else I can help you on. Your style is boom! - perfect, and just so you. And the idea in your poem is just amazing, too. It seems, to me, to be something about thought and how the clouds hold (your) world up - sort of a metaphorical world being held up, if you will.
And those three words are my favorite in the entire piece. They are just beautiful.
I can see them panting.
~Darth Timmyjake (550th review! Whoopee!)
YAY NEW STAR! So much blue. ^_^
Thank you for the lovely review. <#
Pompadour? Is that you? It is me, Magenta! I've been lost and I have not been on in quite a long time. I find it only fair that I review something of yours for leaving you with no notice and nothing until now. And I always know that your writing is always something to make me smile. Ahem. On with the review!
Before I critique your work, I must tell you that you have taught me something. The spelling of cirrus. I, up until now, have not known the correct spelling for those clouds. But thanks to you, I do now!
I agree with anyone who says that your writing is amazing and that the imagery you use, is only written from a practiced hand. You capture things so clearly, that I can see the pictures in my mind as if they very well, were my thoughts.
And metaphors are ever present. How I love metaphors. You are clearly a master of figurative language as well! Of course you are!
"here is clay, red dust, shifting around my toes
and it sears like hot iron.
but I know when night comes, the ground will be cool,
the skies holding the earth up
for me to sleep on."
I like these lines the best. It is the writing here--the simile and the flow and the idea--that I find interesting. It isn't because it has the best imagery or that it just sounds nice, but for its simplicity that has truth. It probably doesn't make sense to you. What I am writing, I mean. Few understand my crazy logic, but take my compliment and review with you as you continue you writing.
I hope you are having a lovely evening!
- Magenta
You're back!
)
Where have you beeeen?
(Also thank you for the review!
I told you. I'm back from the dead. I was bitten by a vampire.
Jk--I wish!
@Pomadour!
Every time I read your work I learn few new words, and those words seem like they are invented especially for you. They speak for themselves and the story-oh man! You are phenomenal.
Cheers~
So beautiful, the imagery is just incredibly breath taking, it has a somewhat gloomy setting (if I'm correct) But anything dark, or gloomy, is truly more beautiful than light burning from the scorching sun in my opinion I see more beauty in darkness then most things (hope that isn't weird XD).
continue writing!
the shadows of trees make me think of oblivion,
and how some day my thoughts will be scattered in the sand.
I think this was beautiful, there's imagery and I'm a big fan of awesome imagery, which you my friend have great imagery. Shadows of trees, thoughts scattered in the sand. There is no words to describe what I feel from these two sentences.
but home is where shards of glass spear from the walls
and figures with naked, bleeding feet
rub sandpaper down each others throats.
Once again flawless imagery, bleeding feet that are naked, great description by the way
Shards of glass spear from the walls, oooh spear, usually you don't see people write particularly that way, but I understood what you went, I can see it clearly.
And my favorite part, sandpaper rubbing each others throats, amazing. I can literally taste the blood, and the scratch like pain, just imagine how it would feel. (Not so pleasant ha ha) But unpleasant things interest me and keep me engaged the most. Twisted writing is just my thing, something so unrealistic it's realistic. Great job and rock on dude!