Poem, in progress. Please critique, I need as much help as I can get.
This poem is a response to this picture although I go a bit farther.
# of edits: 4
My So-called Life
More than a dream, beyond the realm of logic and sense
… Dare I say, even of the spirit?
The beauty and horror it did bring, inspiring me hence
Such a mystery, I cannot bear it, so I say
Forever more and forever now
The eye sees same, but the mind never shall!
The body is plain, in the shape there is nothing new.
In us we see the same,
Proudly erect yet listing, being crushed by some strange force
Of its nature, we try to understand.
Try as we might and try as we shall,
Of its nature, we admit not, though know we all well.
Here is who we once were, natural and frightening
Dramatically! Has our past been removed,
Blood drips down to the drain below to never be seen, thought of, again.
Life itself...
Give way to a new reality, highly do we.
Who we were, no, who will we be?
This tree stands askew, but still it stands daunting
Like some strange obelisk,
Although, in such a construction meaning should we find.
The reach of this, our, monument
Is not upwards but to the side.
Trapping us, like a wire fence keeping back the sky.
...Yet, meaning we do find.
In these electric strings our lives as they do thrive,
Moving forward is impossible
Without one leaving something behind.
But if we look back, we ask, where, where are we going?
Let our progress be not hollow! Holding our severed heads we cry...
Let the world we have grown to love not die!
This poem is a response to this picture although I go a bit farther.
# of edits: 4
My So-called Life
More than a dream, beyond the realm of logic and sense
… Dare I say, even of the spirit?
The beauty and horror it did bring, inspiring me hence
Such a mystery, I cannot bear it, so I say
Forever more and forever now
The eye sees same, but the mind never shall!
The body is plain, in the shape there is nothing new.
In us we see the same,
Proudly erect yet listing, being crushed by some strange force
Of its nature, we try to understand.
Try as we might and try as we shall,
Of its nature, we admit not, though know we all well.
Here is who we once were, natural and frightening
Dramatically! Has our past been removed,
Blood drips down to the drain below to never be seen, thought of, again.
Life itself...
Give way to a new reality, highly do we.
Who we were, no, who will we be?
This tree stands askew, but still it stands daunting
Like some strange obelisk,
Although, in such a construction meaning should we find.
The reach of this, our, monument
Is not upwards but to the side.
Trapping us, like a wire fence keeping back the sky.
...Yet, meaning we do find.
In these electric strings our lives as they do thrive,
Moving forward is impossible
Without one leaving something behind.
But if we look back, we ask, where, where are we going?
Let our progress be not hollow! Holding our severed heads we cry...
Let the world we have grown to love not die!
