Another poem written by myself

[Anna G. Appel]

Fog
Anna G. Appel

A thick dark breeze,
Brushes on the stone.
I sit here alone,
Just me and the fog.
A heavy grey smog,
Can’t help but approach.
My whispering limbs,
Give gasps of wishes.
My hands fold.
I think about,
What shouldn’t be .
Scarred gaping sin,
Grips where I live.
My skin takes a hold,
The lust that grins deep.
I am strong…
My consciousness is weak
I smile a mask,
That breaks through the day.
Once night is alive,
Passion fires burn awry.
A Ghostly shake,
Chatters my teeth.
I cringe and flap,
Moistness cracks my face.
Never a settling symbol,
Takes a dieing fate.
Guilt and Terror,
Hides me.
The curious woman,
Looks at me,
Wondering.

[Anna G. Appel]

Straw
Anna G. Appel

Pulling along
Four plastic wheels
Chipping and splashing
The mud and rock
Tumbling over
Unwinding turned on top
Stuffing inside the deep
Golden stringy growth
Itch the faith away

Stuffing and stuffing
Pushing and shoving
Stepping and crushing
Heaving, heaving

Pulling my back
Up glorious stairs
From the aches
And the pains
Spreading and spreading
Glossing the moist
The thick wet ground
Shining and sparkling
Beautifying

From weeds and rocks
Torn all around
To wonderful light
Thrown on the ground

[Arania]

Fog
Anna G. Appel

A thick dark breeze,
Brushes on the stone.
I sit here alone,
Just me and the fog.
A heavy grey smog,
Can’t help but approach.
My whispering limbs,
Give gasps of wishes.
My hands fold.
I think about,
What shouldn’t be .
Scarred gaping sin,
Grips where I live.
My skin takes a hold,
The lust that grins deep.
I am strong…
My consciousness is weak
I smile a mask,
That breaks through the day.
Once night is alive,
Passion fires burn awry.
A Ghostly shake,
Chatters my teeth.
I cringe and flap,
Moistness cracks my face.
Never a settling symbol,
Takes a dieing fate.
Guilt and Terror,
Hides me.
The curious woman,
Looks at me,
Wondering.


You have some real potential here. You speak poetically, but it´s very choppy. It sounds like you´re trying too hard, you know? Just let the words flow as if your heart were speaking the language of poetry fluently. Does that make sense?

Keep writing, you seem to have a knack for it.

[Triskele]

yeah, i like a lot of the individual lines, but stuff like "Just me and the fog.
A heavy grey smog" just sound like your jsut spewing it out. thanks for posting... maybe if the lines were a bit longer, or try some freeverse