In my 25 years on Earth, I've never attempted to write poetry before. I was inspired by a graphic design project in which I had to design and build a book filled with other peoples poetry. So in the past month I've written some poems and wanted to post a couple that I've actually spent some time on.
If it's not too much bother, I would like real, honest criticism. I don't know dick about poetry, the certain types of formats (the only one I know is "haiku"), or what makes poetry good or bad. I don't know the etiquette around here either, if you all tell people that their poems are good just to be polite or whatever, please don't do that with me. I want to know honestly if this is something worth reading. I've very recently gotten clean off heroin so that's a common theme in most of what I've written.
If it's not too much bother, I would like real, honest criticism. I don't know dick about poetry, the certain types of formats (the only one I know is "haiku"), or what makes poetry good or bad. I don't know the etiquette around here either, if you all tell people that their poems are good just to be polite or whatever, please don't do that with me. I want to know honestly if this is something worth reading. I've very recently gotten clean off heroin so that's a common theme in most of what I've written.
Human Condition
Out of the black, onto more purple pastures now.
Waiting on time, to find something worth discovering.
Now found, I inquire, what ever does instill desire?
Almost forgotten how to act, every instinct fallen off the map.
Tethered by chains ingested, though clear enough now, still affected.
Uninfected, free to think again, free to live again, human, once again.
Making changes, taking measures, the specifics up in the air.
Changes, that is, more than one, resurrected, a fetus lies here.
Age is but a number, revealed when necessary, the mind's transcendent.
Seeing beyond the flaws of past, and the impending dwindle yet to come.
As they can too, manifesting in a duality previously inconceivable, unbelievable...
Inopportune, echoes of previous human waste experienced still falter the psyche
That's fading and glowing, shrinking and growing, like cycles of the moon.
With every new conflict, wisdom contacts, balance in view.
Shedding the skin of my past with each day passed, what becomes of me and you?
A human born of stars, as the rest, extensions of consciousness,
Questioning more and more, what it is that I even am?
A tube of smaller tubes, of even smaller tubes, of even smaller tubes?
Finding its way, guided by a direction undecided, on the prowl...
Seeking pleasures of the visual, aural, palatable, and tactile varieties.
From what I can tell, getting along like some, not many...
Most never should have been, never should be, it's not difficult to see.
Compressing themselves, cancer of themselves. They disagree…
Selfish, can't be bothered, one for one, all for none.
It's their own they shun, and when it's done, and they're on the run,
They'll turn the gun right back on themselves, the lot.
And from the stars, having a laugh, floating along my cosmic path
Comforted, yet saddened; they never had a chance.
The ones that do, almost certain they will blow.
Why not think ahead? No, it’s human nature to steal the show.
The Mother always has her way, never they know.
Gods unto themselves, with nothing to bestow.
Oblivious to their insignificance, inflated with ego.
Endlessly they pontificate, the poor man and the magnate.
Making foes with awareness, deserving of their fate.
And though I am not righteous, no, a typical primate.
The collective mind as a whole, I forever strive to dilate…
Out of the black, onto more purple pastures now.
Waiting on time, to find something worth discovering.
Now found, I inquire, what ever does instill desire?
Almost forgotten how to act, every instinct fallen off the map.
Tethered by chains ingested, though clear enough now, still affected.
Uninfected, free to think again, free to live again, human, once again.
Making changes, taking measures, the specifics up in the air.
Changes, that is, more than one, resurrected, a fetus lies here.
Age is but a number, revealed when necessary, the mind's transcendent.
Seeing beyond the flaws of past, and the impending dwindle yet to come.
As they can too, manifesting in a duality previously inconceivable, unbelievable...
Inopportune, echoes of previous human waste experienced still falter the psyche
That's fading and glowing, shrinking and growing, like cycles of the moon.
With every new conflict, wisdom contacts, balance in view.
Shedding the skin of my past with each day passed, what becomes of me and you?
A human born of stars, as the rest, extensions of consciousness,
Questioning more and more, what it is that I even am?
A tube of smaller tubes, of even smaller tubes, of even smaller tubes?
Finding its way, guided by a direction undecided, on the prowl...
Seeking pleasures of the visual, aural, palatable, and tactile varieties.
From what I can tell, getting along like some, not many...
Most never should have been, never should be, it's not difficult to see.
Compressing themselves, cancer of themselves. They disagree…
Selfish, can't be bothered, one for one, all for none.
It's their own they shun, and when it's done, and they're on the run,
They'll turn the gun right back on themselves, the lot.
And from the stars, having a laugh, floating along my cosmic path
Comforted, yet saddened; they never had a chance.
The ones that do, almost certain they will blow.
Why not think ahead? No, it’s human nature to steal the show.
The Mother always has her way, never they know.
Gods unto themselves, with nothing to bestow.
Oblivious to their insignificance, inflated with ego.
Endlessly they pontificate, the poor man and the magnate.
Making foes with awareness, deserving of their fate.
And though I am not righteous, no, a typical primate.
The collective mind as a whole, I forever strive to dilate…