Eight Poems for the Poet Block

[capiCrimm]

I've had a hard time writing poetry recently. I've been sort of keeping my quota, but I feel like most of my poems are lacking emotion or inspiration. Critiques are very welcome. A lot of the lines have alternate version that I keep when I'm not sure about the flow, so it's nice to hear where the poems sound weak, because I may have been fighting with how to say it already and can try and alternate instead.

Normally I wouldn't post so many poems in one, but anyway. Hopefully I'll get some feedback.

uno

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the whistle, blowing
  and the train come rolling
roll
  for in me i hear her blow
and she comes roll, en me I run
  and her she come.
my leg in track, just caught
  en i look back.
And Here She Come
  big yell, oh my leg.
light just glare en
  there she go 
off the track.
  en them po lese 
don't let them see
  me just sitt en
here they come.
  my god damn leg
    and there god damn guns 
      pointed at this jailbird on the run.  
Whistle Blowwww.

due

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blood tastes like copper
  sweat and semen taste like salt
duck tape burns when you tear it off
  asphalt rips the skin 
    and love can hurt
if you sit there
and take it in
rape

tre

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 drownding to that melody.
tear drops
  only grow the lake
    where the sun never comes to
drink
  water
    as you drownd
where no ones there
  to watch you sink.
and no ones there
  to stop tear salt 
    from burning flesh to bone.

past the mountians
  lay green fields
    not your own
lays the grace,
  the land of bliss
    not your home.
dance the people
  of the glee
    with whom you long to be
with whom you'll never be.

o. cry

quattro

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Forever by a Moments Thread
  sewn apart
pieced in out and in
  the needle bind us,
but if not for a Moments Thread's 
  fine line -- would --
    your heart pump my vien,
    your love drive my brain,
    your touch remove my pain,
but if not for that Moments Thread.
  and here left I am in solo.mn dread
walking on the cracking bones 
  of my rotting flesh
    already dead.
a pale figure, thin guantly stick
  sockets black,
    eyes of daze
wandering. . . looking for
  our salad days.

cinque

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Do you have the time?
  Do you have the time?
to kill yourself?
  to fill yourself with empty dreams?
Do you have the time?
  to lay around in wasteful bliss
  to wade around is luscious shit.
Do you have the time to realize?
  the only thing that matters.
is that nothing matters.
  that death is as good as life.
    and a wife is as good as strife.
that bliss and pain
  ride the same train.
Do you have the time?
  to live

sei

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One day I will cease breathing.
I will open the cellar door.
  drop 
  down
  to 
  the 
  floor.
grincing. leaving.
  bloody breathing thoughts and mummers.
thinking
  not of the diamond rings
  but of those little things.
of those whispers in your ear -- 
  never said.
and of the wishing pools  -- 
  never read.
of those little things I could have done
  with more time
and of those little things I wouldn't do
  if not dying.

sette

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  goosebumps edgy, dark red abyss glare.
  stiff hairs upright.
little thumps 
  . . . are so scary
little bumps
  -- cringe the skin.
little creaks
  little snaps
crips
  drips 
    and cracks.
lips smacking in the closet.
  and little fingers clinging to the sheets.
bleached eyes tearing
and
  shadows
  waiting
    for feeble
    sleep.  
fear.

otto

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6 'O clock -- awaken
  breakfest, then to the station.
round the car til you find your seat
  enjoy the beat of the beggers drum --
transfer.
  now you stand.
    ignoring that girl selling illegal brands.
then off and up to the light.
  shoulders bump and smack as you rush
round the corner. Break Open the Doors.
  flying up the stairs to your floor.
blur into your seat. 
  a sigh.  a relief
    grab  your  pencil, write  a  line
sip  some  coffee   and   enjoy   your    day.

[Arcadia]

nice italian serie!!!!!!!!

Do you have the time to realize?
the only thing that matters.
is that nothing matters

today at 1 am we were talking about that with some friends and beers in the table (before that we were talking about all the things that matters)

[mousey1]

I like your style. I don't know if it's the translation coming across, whether the spellings and word uses are intentional or not but I really like how they come across. I'm a fan of mixing and moshing things together unusually, and blatant purposeful misspellings as well, if they suit the piece.

Not much for me to criticize...er, I mean critique, 'cept to say I like.

uno is amusing, cute dialectizization(sic)!

tre's got some good lines. And I like the use of the word drownding (though I suspect it's not intentional...you can slap me if it was!) I think when you're drowning it probably feels more like drownding. I liked these lines especially:

drownding to that melody.
tear drops
only grow the lake
where the sun never comes to
drink
water
as you drownd
where no ones there
to watch you sink.

sei is rather cool. I like the word "grincing". Did you mean to say mummers or murmurs?...I think you mean murmurs but it looks like mummers and I don't know what a mummer is unless you mean mummy as in the walking dead kind!

sette and otto are my favorites.

Yes, I liked them and I did read all.

[Ann Bingham]

I am with Mousey. Number 5 was especially good. The last stanza of number three took my breath away. On a personal note I would drop the last line it is an understood emotion..but that is just me. I feel you should do what makes you feel comfortable. Number seven...placement and spacing would increase the effect...but again that is a personal thing.

All in all these are very good. Someone once told me (years ago) that a poem is never finished, you will always find something about it to change. I try very hard not to revise, but sometimes something just doesn't read or feel right. I find that works written in the moment of the emotion are the best; the revision can always come later. O.k. I'll shut up now...I'm not good at critiquing and can only give personal opinions. In the end it is what the writer is comfortable with.


Deb.