Beams raining down like coins,
golden,
singing Solfeggio
saliently serenading flora
preempting evening mists.
The kissing clouds ranging blankets a
malleable shroud, acquiescent touch to all faces.
To drench in paradoxal tears perhaps waterfalls
Unceremonial,,, Yet,
One of life’s essences that stirs our blood from congealing.
So detached from ecclesiastical laws thrown around
like falsities frighteningly daunting, vermilion like,
designfuly injurious, sharp, accusing and bitter
blitzkrieg onslaughts, making souls bleed.
Damning individuals at discretional will
slamming down words like a gavel.
Oh what regard for fellow humanity
those pointing like Gods police.
At those
Born to the
altar of life sacrificed to breathing
ship wreaked on the grey sky,
mangled on metallic clouds.
Built that the grass is soft and green
so to feel the difference between comforts underfoot
Or, the chill of cold tombs of entrapped saints and sinners
beneath polished cold stone floors.
From times unappreciated
that the soil is warm in spring
and daffodils dance brightly and free.
I’ve never felt warmth from those stone floors
hiding from the suns honest unblinking glare.
Tucked beneath towering ceilings
in pathetic competition
with the vast skies.
Beams raining down like coins,
..VERY STRONG OPENING HERE, I LIKE IT ALOT!
saliently serenading flora
...THIS LINE IS BEAUTIFUL
kissing clouds ... LOVE IT!
YET THE NEXT FEW LINES KIND OF LOSE ME A LITTLE. THEY DON'T SEEM IN KEEPING WITH THE REST OF THE POEM TO ME FOR SOME REASON, CAN'T PUT MY FINGER ON IT...
So detached from ecclesiastical laws thrown around
like falsities frighteningly daunting, vermilion like,
designfuly injurious, sharp, accusing and bitter
blitzkrieg onslaughts, making souls bleed.
Damning individuals at discretional will
slamming down words like a gavel.
Oh what regard for fellow humanity
those pointing like Gods police.
...THIS PART YOU MIGHT WANT TO REWORK A LITTLE AS WELL; COMES ACROSS AS SUDDENLY ANGRY...
At those
Born to the
altar of life sacrificed to breathing
ship wreaked on the grey sky,
mangled on metallic clouds.
...AND HERE YOU HAVE REACHED OUT AND GRABBED MY ATTENTION AGAIN. VERY GOOD SECTION!
Built that the grass is soft and green
so to feel the difference between comforts underfoot
Or, the chill of cold tombs of entrapped saints and sinners
beneath polished cold stone floors.
From times unappreciated
that the soil is warm in spring
and daffodils dance brightly and free.
...THIS SECTION IS ABSOLUTELY SUBLIME! AMAZING...
I've never felt warmth from those stone floors
hiding from the suns honest unblinking glare.
Tucked beneath towering ceilings
in pathetic competition
with the vast skies
...ENDING IS VERY STRONG TOO; JUST HAVING TROUBLE WITH THE FIRST LINE OF THIS SECTION, HOW YOU REPEAT STONE FLOORS... IS THERE ANOTHER WAY TO WORD THAT LINE?
OVERALL, I REALLY LIKED THIS! HOPEFULLY MY COMMENTS WERE HELPFUL...
"The kissing clouds ranging blankets a
malleable shroud, acquiescent touch to all faces."
I really love these lines.
You have a very powerful piece. I'm impressed that it actually goes somewhere instead of starting and then going on to ten other points. You did an incredible job at making this beautiful but not cliche.
Showing the truth to those that are blind. Very heart warming. Refreashing, and somewhat blasphamis. I love it. Great work, strong meaning, keep it up.
This piece is rather interesting..I do like the dark undertones and the choice of wording. I encourage you to continue to write this style of writing. You have a talent for it.
Beams raining down like coins,
..VERY STRONG OPENING HERE, I LIKE IT ALOT!
saliently serenading flora
...THIS LINE IS BEAUTIFUL
kissing clouds ... LOVE IT!
YET THE NEXT FEW LINES KIND OF LOSE ME A LITTLE. THEY DON'T SEEM IN KEEPING WITH THE REST OF THE POEM TO ME FOR SOME REASON, CAN'T PUT MY FINGER ON IT...
So detached from ecclesiastical laws thrown around
like falsities frighteningly daunting, vermilion like,
designfuly injurious, sharp, accusing and bitter
blitzkrieg onslaughts, making souls bleed.
Damning individuals at discretional will
slamming down words like a gavel.
Oh what regard for fellow humanity
those pointing like Gods police.
...THIS PART YOU MIGHT WANT TO REWORK A LITTLE AS WELL; COMES ACROSS AS SUDDENLY ANGRY...
At those
Born to the
altar of life sacrificed to breathing
ship wreaked on the grey sky,
mangled on metallic clouds.
...AND HERE YOU HAVE REACHED OUT AND GRABBED MY ATTENTION AGAIN. VERY GOOD SECTION!
Built that the grass is soft and green
so to feel the difference between comforts underfoot
Or, the chill of cold tombs of entrapped saints and sinners
beneath polished cold stone floors.
From times unappreciated
that the soil is warm in spring
and daffodils dance brightly and free.
...THIS SECTION IS ABSOLUTELY SUBLIME! AMAZING...
I've never felt warmth from those stone floors
hiding from the suns honest unblinking glare.
Tucked beneath towering ceilings
in pathetic competition
with the vast skies
...ENDING IS VERY STRONG TOO; JUST HAVING TROUBLE WITH THE FIRST LINE OF THIS SECTION, HOW YOU REPEAT STONE FLOORS... IS THERE ANOTHER WAY TO WORD THAT LINE?
OVERALL, I REALLY LIKED THIS! HOPEFULLY MY COMMENTS WERE HELPFUL...
I am glad you put up this poem again, this one has always been an absolute favourite... Always was, :) and will be. The one gets all the applause,a standing ovaition and a speechless appreciation.