The simple chime of a tainted clock.
Time ticks burdened by the heavy weight
of demands and anxieties
that taunts the ears of a man,
like the whispers in the wind-
Frayed
The patchwork quilt of our dreams
slowly being pulled apart by the years that slip by like sand.
And all is left is the heaps of colour and string
~~~~~
String that scratches and burns
that stings our vulnerable flesh
and wraps around a body gone frail
From years of abuse and neglect.
Of invisible words and judgement
that is suggested with harsh looks.
Feeding our low self-esteem,
Breaking those necks
that have already been snapped
by the cruel hunter that is society.
~~~~~
But lo: for our bodies to be resurrected
and to be reborn in truth and strength
And though those necks that are broken and shattered
by the wrench of twisted hands
These bodies are to come alive again.
Revived by the bandage of self-love and realisation
that though worn and matted with old blood,
Infected with the grievances of imperfection
They soon aid our wounds
and create the power of a bull
That charges into life’s largest gate
and breakes open the metal irons
that locks us away from a better world.
But soon those chains,
Burst open
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
140,071 Literary Works • 672,991 Reviews
Hello there!
Ooh I like the touch of assonance I see here with words such as "tainted" and "time" and even the words "ticks" and "taunts" in the first stanza because it helps manage rhythm and keeps a set of words flowery to whoever is hearing them, which can be partially blamed for why proverbs like “there's no place like home” work well and are remembered.
Sand and quilts are two of my favourite poetry images to intertwine into bigger pictures mainly because they feel so nostalgic. I can think of sand and remember when I went to the beach with my siblings, or I can think of a quilt my grandmother made for me when I was really young, which are some good memories to me.
I do have some things to mention that have can be edited or just looked over in case of any corrections that might be needed ~
I tend to like personification of society as a whole, but the usage of "hunter" confuses me because it could mean so many things from a glance at hunters killing animals already in danger of extinction to society painting people being too perfect and hating on those who aren't under that branch of classification in their eyes.
Low self-esteem can be blamed on society as well, which is the most common reason I've learned from myself when I was younger and my own friends struggling with that currently long past the whole teen age range.
I'm a little of unsure of how chains could break open. You might need some heavy equipment to break them, but even then, the idea of it being opened doesn't exactly sit right with me especially if they are some not-so lackluster chains.
Ah nice to see some of your poetry ~
L & T
Thank you so much for your review, I may look over those few lines. Thank you!
Wow, holy s***. Sorry for my language but wow this is amazing! I was left speechless by the end I love every single aspect of it, your use of language is very deep which is an excellent way to hook the audience right in towards to the end.
Feeding our low self-esteem,
Breaking those necks
that have already been snapped
by the cruel hunter that is society.
This part was probably my favorite. It is very impactful and so strong. I also liked the idea how you referred to society as a "cruel hunter" great use of personification. The second and third line especially, it is cruel and rather grim but in a way that brings great impact towards the audience which will keep them glued to this poem.
These bodies are to come alive again.
Revived by the bandage of self-love and realisation
that though worn and matted with old blood,
Infected with the grievances of imperfection
Again, another fantastic use of simile, by referring self love to a bandage, really smart idea, well done! The last line as well is a excellent use of metaphor, it just brings so much meaning out of it, its sooo perfect!!!!!!
I love your writing style so much!! it is beautiful, artistic and impeccable. Thank you for sharing this work of art. Keep writing more amazing pieces!!
Thank you so much for your kind review
Cool poem. I like the quilt bit.
Thank you so much