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DEPARTING

Still falls the rain.
The veils of darkness shroud the blackened trees,
which contorted by some unseen violence
Shed their tired leaves and bend their boughs
towards a grey earth of severed bird wings.

Among the grasses poppies bleed before a gesticulating death
And young rabbits borne dead in traps stand motionless
as though guarding the silence that surrounds
and threatens to engulf all those that would listen.

Mute birds,
Ravens and owls
with eyes burning like it is staring at fire,
Tired of repeating yesterday's terrors
huddle together in the recesses of dark corners
Heads turned from the dead
Black swan that floats upturned in a small pool in the hollow.

There emerges from this pool a faint sensual mist
That traces its way upwards to caress
the chipped feet of the headless martyr's statue
whose only achievement was to die too soon
and who couldn't wait to lose.

The cataract of darkness forms fully,
The long black night begins;
Still,
By the lake a young girl waits unseen
She smiles faintly at the distant tolling bell
and the still falling rain,
Like a person escaping from misery
to a more miserly existence,
She vanished into the voyage.

Marking the interlocking with blood stains,
You could trace her footprints back to a rusty girl
with shattered skull,
Cold dead,
with brain spilled on the floor like a smeared toothpaste.

In front of the corpse was a building standing tall,
My eyes climbed up the bricked walls,
An opened window!
She must have somersaulted from the third floor,
And behold!

The bouncing baby birthed by suicidal thoughts.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

a I often do, I'll tell it as I see it. This is the poem:

By the lake a young girl waits unseen
She smiles faintly at the distant tolling bell
and the still falling rain,
Like a person escaping from misery
to a more miserly existence,
She vanished into the voyage.

Marking the interlocking with blood stains,
You could trace her footprints back to a rusty girl
with shattered skull,
Cold dead,
with brain spilled on the floor like a smeared toothpaste.

In front of the corpse was a building standing tall,
My eyes climbed up the bricked walls,
An opened window!
She must have somersaulted from the third floor,
And behold!

The bouncing baby birthed by suicidal thoughts.

The first stanzas of the poem are all over the place without a center. Wonderful images, but feels more like a collage.Each landscape you create does not connect with the others,
each filled with an abstract metaphysics of some sort, like "as though guarding the silence that surrounds/and threatens to engulf all those that would listen." It sounds good...but when you start to break it down becomes confused..engulf those how would listen.... to the silence?

The poem then open up into a specific event, very compelling and well structured, of the girl. The narrative is a bit too vague for me, I'm not sure exactly what happened, and its not that i need all the details, but I need a bit more to explain the last line. "Bouncing baby" is just not connecting...
and it appears an actual suicide happened, not the thinking of it.

There is a lot of power in the presentation of this girl. I would go further with it. If this was based on an actual event, you can and should create an end that works for the sake of the poem, even if it's just your imagination. As you've heard it said, poets lie all the time, it's what makes them great.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

I thought this was a powerful and wonderful piece. It had great imagery and a somewhat terrifying ending. It seems this girl has committed suicide because of her pregnancy. Let me know if I got it wrong. Anyway I enjoyed reading it and hope it isn't a true story. Bravo! well done!
B9Pat

I loved this write it carried so much and made the blood flow, Take care and great to see you , Yours Ian..

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Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

I'm glad for all of your helpful feedbacks, I'll try to improve everyday and not without your help...

Hommies

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