Tenement of clay

Tenement of clay

Tenement reaper
Of the soil
Dressed in charcoal felt
What pessimistic views
Will you enforce upon
The sickle
Heaven gates
Is that of plastic arches
While
A clay pit hole
And a
Decaying solitude
Is gold
In a sense of realisation
With a absent of oxygen
You will become that of
The earth
Proton and neutron birth
We are a result of
An expanding reaction
Wish to be young
84 more years to laugh
And a year
To make peace with god
Absent of colour
Upon a vintage ripe
Becomes less of a foal temptress
When justified to
When you
Create moral
You are engraved
for society

© copyright luke instone-brewer 2006

Comments & reviews · 5
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User avatar
xanthan gum
Review

this was beautiful. i loved your imagery and word-choice, but i must voice a singular critique - your line breaks sometimes confuse me, make me unsure of the start and end of phrases, and i only could wish that NOTHING would take away from the feeling of the poem. otherwise, i loved your descriptiveness.

User avatar
backgroundbob
Review

Loved the title.

Problem - you have no punctuation. Commas, semi-colons, full-stops... your poem is not complete without them. Before I'd consider this anywhere *near* acceptable, you need to get your end-stopping and enjambement right.

Secondly, your grammar is very bad. Things like "With a absent of oxygen" or "Becomes less of a foal temptress" or "Heaven gates/Is that of plastic arches" stand out, because they don't make sense. You've got to read your sentances and make sure they are actually good english.

This strikes me as a good concept, but it's all extremely jumbled - you need some punctation, grammar; structure, really, to make it read like a real poem. That said, I was very impressed with some of the images you conjured up, so that's a big plus.

Right-o, that's all.

clever stuff great use of words nice 1 keep it up u make one of the best poems on this site

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giant anatomy
Comment

please feel free 2 post your views its great 2 hear feedback cheers



If we choose, we can live in a world of comforting illusion.
— Noam Chomsky