Prologue

[The Rider]

Unplugged my pc blinks and teases
A headed torso from the pant leg on the chair.
It's two a.m. and sleep is missing parts.
I awake, again, turn off the fan for cold:
I am without hot body to warm these sheets,
Moth torn cocoon of yesterday's swaddling.
Ellipses, ellipses, ellipses, on my window pane.

Synecdochal epitaph in the cuneiform
Imprints your feet left on the bed sheets:
Footnote passages I read and treat as prologue
To something unstarted, unwritten, and profound.
But where to begin?
Stuttered rainfall moves off.
Love, I find, has always been a good place to start.

[Bar22do]

There is much that I like in your poem, its original take of the subject and its way to show instead of telling. Nice poem, The Rider, it might need a bit of tidying but I love it as it is, too. Best! Bar

[hillwalker]

I also enjoyed this very much but got caught on one or two barbs :

lines 4 and 5 in the first stanza are distracting - why awake 'again' ?
- and having 'cold'/'hot'/'warm' so close together merely adds to the confusion.

It's so strong elsewhere that I feel reworking (or maybe just omitting) this pair of lines would pay dividends.

H

[blank|verse]

This one was a bit discombobulating, and took a bit of staring at until it yielded some sense and meaning, but it's an inventive and imaginative piece; although perhaps that's not sustained in the second stanza, and it feels like the poem deserves a stronger ending.

There are several arresting images, and I like the 'ellipses on my window pane', although I think one 'ellipses' is enough.

And while overall perhaps the poet can be accused of trying a bit too hard, I think I would rather have that, than not hard enough.