tire tracks of cars that drive over my body
the ones that got to me before the train could
loose ropes tangled around my body
so I could chicken out of my bones being crushed up
into white powder that navigates through the tight corridors of my body
exiting with a river of blood
and I wake up again before I get to see the secrets that I hide from myself
the intoxicating smell of air freshener fades into the air
pollution in a bottle
the air does not feel any safer than before
trying to replicate smells from parts of the earth
that I can only get glimpses of
in a spray bottle
drawing pictures into the past
dust collecting on my fingers
hoping they become ancient drawings that don't fade away
even though I know the stick figure pictures drawn in the dust of my basement
cannot withstand time
I let the poison reside in my pinkie
farthest from my organs
dependant on it to eventually corrupt me
and melt my body like battery acid
Points:
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Canary word: Present
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126,958 Literary Works • 672,943 Reviews
Hello! herbgirl here to review!
I liked your poem here. It is very, for lack of a better word, poetic. It's descriptiveness, though rather gory, makes it an interesting read, one that sort of has you hanging on for more.
However, I'm not sure I really understand what this poem is about. It seems at the beginning as if you might be talking about a car crash, but as one reads on, you get the impression that it might have been dream. From there on, I feel like the poem kind of just pulls further and further away from a focus. You go from dreams, to air freshener, to dust in the basement, to the poison in yourself. While you did it all in an interesting and poetic manner, I would rather have gotten more of a message from your poem.
Other than that, there were just a few other things that bothered me. I noticed some interesting line breaks throughout the poem, which I felt were a bit awkward and interrupted the flow of the poem. On example was the last two lines of the second stanza. I would think that by combining those lines you could make that stanza sound a little smoother. Another example was in the last two lines of the next stanza. I suggest adjusting these lines to "even though I know/ the stick figure pictures drawn in the dust of my basement cannot withstand time" Or "even though I know the stick figure pictures/ drawn in the dust of my basement cannot withstand time". This is more of a preferential thing, but I would still suggest that you change it. I would also suggest reading back through the poem to check for any other strange line breaks.
Anyways, I liked your poem! Good job with the imagery and all that, it was very nice.
herbgirl
Thank you for the review! I did this as an experiment 'cause I'm going to edit this sometime soon and use all critiques in mind to see how it goes.
Your beginning has a serious flow issue that can be dealt with using a simple syntactical change. Your fragments don't need to be connected by any means, but you definitely need to address the amateurish use of repeated words to describe a simple narrative scene--in fact, the issue makes me wonder how much of the opening exposition is necessary before you dive into your crazed rave about your bones and the dust and the poison and the metaphors that abound.
It's a lot all of a sudden, and to allow the reader to get into that, you need a smooth, slowly-flowing introduction that connects metaphorically to the end. From what I can tell, the cars and trains mean absolutely nothing beyond the cliche and average pre-death scene on the tracks.
So why convolute it?
Your flow after stanza one is much better, but it definitely begs for editing. Everything feels rushed, and my inner editor begs for pauses. Breaks and times to grasp what's being delivered. I absolutely adore the window of nihilistic desire you bottle up in the air freshener...and it just begs for better construction. Read through a few times and see if you agree.
I'm not terribly fond of the ending because it feels so incredibly disconnected from the remainder of the meat of the poem. Or perhaps it's the very good content that doesn't belong with the lesser content. Why does the narrator combine his window of places unvisited with the erosion of himself in the grand scheme of the whole narrative?
I understand existential poetry, and I understand nihilistic themes, but I can't help but pinch my nose at the combination you've presented. I feel that it begs clarification. Or perhaps if you slowed down the drama of the head and tail of the piece. You move so quickly and slowly in such a short span of time; it's a thing to learn from. Pacing is a legitimate issue in the publishing world. Put some hours into it. Study it. Read your poetic gods.
Hope this helps.
Ty