Drunk on Colors

This piece is very well written and I enjoyed it a lot. The language really is what makes this poem so great because II feel your choice of words really accurately depicts the simplicity and wonderousness of the events you are writing about. Great job. The only thing I would critise is you choice not to put it in stanzas. The stanzas would really make it flow a lot better and enhance the wistful atmosphere it creates. Thank you for this brilliant piece.

Well, it was a very beautiful and meaningful poem. I liked it. you could have made it better by dividing it into stanzas and also like the title says "drunk on colors", you could have used more expressive and colorful words. other than that I really liked this piece of poetry and maybe even I will not be able to write like this.

Hi there!

This is a really top-notch poem. The subject matter is deep and the description is gorgeous. You handle the theme and language perfectly, and they really compliment each other. The theme is certainly something that can be applied to many situations and ideas, and your tone of longing fit the piece excellently.
I don't actually have any complaints that I can think of, but I do have a suggestion: If there is a poetry slam in your town or nearby, you should definitely enter it and read this poem! It would be a perfect slam piece, and reading it out loud really adds to the effect of the poem as a whole, I think.
So, all in all, a great poem! Keep writing!

~Reddy

This poem is a beautiful piece and I enjoyed it. However, at first glance I was a bit daunted by the sheer bulk of it. The fact that you didn't put this into stanzas make it a little hard to read and I had to go over it slowly and carefully to understand it. And after finishing it, I'm glad I did.
I really like the angery wistfulness there was to this piece and I don't have any complaints other than what I already wrote. Below I took the liberty of puting you poem into stanzas. I think it makes you poem a lot easier to read and more powerful.

Understanding what makes the world spin around is like attempting to grasp crystal handfuls of rain,
Yearning to know why the water shivers away through clammy fingers,
Streaming through desperately clenched fists.

We'll never be able to capture it, will we?
Because just as we think we truly have it,
That we've caught it in nets contrived of loneliness,
It escapes through the mesh and spirals into the sun.

So let's get drunk on colors, and forget.
Forget how every time we see the scarlet, the indigo, the ivory,
Those blurred cages that contain the mysteries,
We hear a voice taunting us for our ignorance.

Silly little creatures,
We'll never comprehend the uncontainable beauty of an undefined world.
Our trepid hearts will never hear the silent sounds,
The mystical calls of inexplicable beauty.

Why do we long to contain the wild things?
To tame the untamed?
To choke what we don't know?