the ocean always dreamed blue dreams

Oh, my God, this was merely gripping and magnificent unto those final lines, which seemed to grip my heart and squeeze!

So beautiful, so wonderfully controlled: the line-breaks alone could have made a poem.

Wow one of your best yet! I don't want to sound partisan, but of all the great poets on this website, I enjoy yours the most and this one is a prime example of your mastery of line-breaks as well as stunning metaphors.

There is so much imagery in here that I just want to rub my nose in it, but I'm quite tired and will comment more tommorow because I feel like I must read it again so that I can catch the pleasure of every single word.

The only problem I have is "and screaming, I clutch at the bleeding", believe me, I love 'screaming' especially as a companion to 'blinking', but there's just too many 'ings' with that extra 'bleeding'.

I've got mixed emotions on this one Qimi. I thought this stanza solid and interesting:

I find that I am watching myself,
a lonely majestic hawk
that flew into the sunset and landed
on a railing
looking down at the errant landscape
both a part and apart
his majesty cannot save him from the ruthless hands of man
they have no pity

Though i have no idea what those last two lines are referring to. But I thought most of the remainder seemed like it was trying too hard and too many discordant images: metallic blood? What's that? A kindly hand or a sadistic lover? I fail to grasp the meaning. To be honest I'm confused by a few other lines. This one doesn't do it for me I'm afraid.

Thank you, Prince, Dan, and Virgil.

Getting such immediate feedback is always heartwarming and interesting.

I think you're right, Dan; I'll have to think about how I'm going to change it. Thanks for the input. I appreciate it and any other ideas you may have for me.

Hey Virgil, thanks for your input and honesty. I'm not sure I can answer all your questions, but blood does have a metallic taste. As for death, it is different things to all of us at different times. If one is young and left brutalized but alive, it would seem sadistic; if one is old and in great pain, it might seem a kindly hand. Mostly, I think, this person wants to know the future, desperately...and is that wish ever fulfilled?

The images are discordant because what is happening to the person is discordant. I appreciate your willingness to read something that made you uncomfortable.

Lying in the dark
I lick the wound
my tongue gently lapping
at the metallic blood
Who is that girl with
the wofish eyes and the long yellow teeth
with the snarl twisting in her war-torn gut?

this was my fav part!!!
see qimi, you still have it
amazing

Thank you, rimbaud. You are very kind.

Not sure how I missed one. Chilling. I kept the eagle image in mind and watching the majesty of its being and dignity end in almost despair and foreboding. How have the mighty fallen--and great the fall thereof. The hunters are rarely worthy of their prey. I should pay more attention to oyur poetry though I have no qualifications on crititquing them. Dark Muse is my favorite here in that area as her verses bring so many strange and offbeat impressions to mind.