Poetry Forum
For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!
7/11/2017 12:51:29 AM
Benjamin Varenikovich Posts: 2
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I’m kind of having trouble breathing It could be the binder or The knives I threw at the wall. I know I didn’t throw them with my lungs But the thought of the holes in the plaster Grips my chest in the grip of disaster And I can’t breathe. In the caverns of my air sacs there’s something starting to grow: my mother’s roses. They’re pretty, I know but you can’t put coils of thorns in my throat and ask me to humor you. Every rose I will cough up Will be like a punch in the gut; if you squint you will be able to see a constellation in the blue by my diaphragm. Yes, for your eyes I can grow roses Out of the tissues of my lungs But I’m having trouble breathing And it isn’t the binder I can’t help that I’m finding outlines of Faces in the plaster. You’ve taught your rose bush to grow knives And when I see the holes of your eyes in the wall I can’t breathe.
I will appreciate any critiques, I really want to learn from the other writers on this site and become better. A few things that I've been thinking about or am unsure of are: Does it work to combine the knife image with the roses? Is the poem difficult to understand? Is the rhythm ok? Is the rhyme in the beginning of the 3rd stanza too forced? Are there any work choice suggestions?
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