I've cracked the skies open
so many times, just searching
searching
in vain
for a place that no longer exists,
not for me.
Perfection was a myth,
a lacework web created from
shadows and starlight.
I was the moonlight that faded
when the sun came up,
even your beloved flaws
just another stratum,
transparent to all but me.
Nothing can cleanse this taint,
this oil-slick film that
covers my skin
my eyes
my nose
my tongue,
tarnishing
these impure senses.
But with shredded fingertips and
broken nails and
bruised palms
I keep searching, long after
all hope is lost,
leaving smeared fingerprints of blood
across the clouds
Whorl
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Some of the imagery in this
Agreed.
Once again I find that the
that the pointy
edges of
poems
on here
has caused
head to hurt a
little more than
it should at nine.
: )
I think the imagery is very interesting, especially the description of the oily film like substance which clings to the narrator. I found that concept very...cool. As for the rhythm, I know this isn't supposed to rhyme, but even free verse has it's guidelines. The cadence of the words used was a little off, like "cracked" which in my opinion is a harsh sounding word, and this is a little off with "palms" which is a softer sound.
The sentecnes seem to fluctuate in length, as do the lines, as I mentioned above ^ which can work, but it is more effort, and is more likly to go wrong. I think this poem could be made more uniform , and symmetrical in terms of syllables, because while free verse is nice in it's own right, I think some of the power of changes in stanza is a good thing to have, and may lend strength and integrity to your words.
Still, a very good poem, and one of my favourites of yours out of all I have read.