Looking for some constructive criticism concerning structure, syntax, rhythm and lexicon. I'm not a trained poet so it doesn't adhere to a dogmatic form, but I tried to give it some deliberate structure.
Discrete objects merge with an amorphous ocean.
The fuel that keeps an obsessed brain flickering
fights to stave off the bright darkness burning irresistibly
like a kerosene lantern.
We’ll climb a summit and to watch it crumble
starving, ground down to ground level.
i, the space between sleepless nights,
the invisible scaffold for every sincere prayer ever uttered.
i, What you find between the lines
The gap between feeling, calculation, ego and self
Impetus for the infant’s cry,
and the mirror plane in a dead pair of eyes
Scholars hide from the implications
Of an arbitrarily contrived assumption with claims of irrelevance.
Before i, confounding the collective unconsciousness,
they cower, and hope no one will say what they’re all thinking.
Fictions built upon fictions, these are not the giant’s shoulders I was promised
Well,
I’ve forsaken the prayers, scribbled calculation after calculation,
and forsook those too.
I studied radical Love divided by a Self raised to the power of Doubt
and found the root of desire,
which must be real, and satisfaction the imaginary part.
Shackled to uncertainty, and
self-condemned to settle for nothing less than the Big Picture,
I’m left powerlessly sinking into slumber where I will dream of a world without time or eyelids.
A steel monument shoots lightning bolts back into the sky,
lakes rained clouds and
I floated on solid ground
when I could focus on nothing else but the will to blink.
A silent voice issued a deafening whisper
of an ellipse and a question mark […?] at the center of the universe.
I asked if I would find i there.
I endured.
Truth with a capital t replaced forever by
a lowercase i.
I found comfort in a moment’s hubris,
sparkling.
When the human animal dives into a sea of ignorance
the honest lose themselves in the tides,
and the gullible, who cannot bear to face the moon,
struggle against gravity.
Enticed by i’s shimmering cubic zirconia promises, they
risk life hoping to retrieve it, shine a light on it, understand and own it.
Upon illumination, its appeal vanishes almost instantly.
Discrete objects merge with an amorphous ocean.
The fuel that keeps an obsessed brain flickering
fights to stave off the bright darkness burning irresistibly
like a kerosene lantern.
We’ll climb a summit and to watch it crumble
starving, ground down to ground level.
i, the space between sleepless nights,
the invisible scaffold for every sincere prayer ever uttered.
i, What you find between the lines
The gap between feeling, calculation, ego and self
Impetus for the infant’s cry,
and the mirror plane in a dead pair of eyes
Scholars hide from the implications
Of an arbitrarily contrived assumption with claims of irrelevance.
Before i, confounding the collective unconsciousness,
they cower, and hope no one will say what they’re all thinking.
Fictions built upon fictions, these are not the giant’s shoulders I was promised
Well,
I’ve forsaken the prayers, scribbled calculation after calculation,
and forsook those too.
I studied radical Love divided by a Self raised to the power of Doubt
and found the root of desire,
which must be real, and satisfaction the imaginary part.
Shackled to uncertainty, and
self-condemned to settle for nothing less than the Big Picture,
I’m left powerlessly sinking into slumber where I will dream of a world without time or eyelids.
A steel monument shoots lightning bolts back into the sky,
lakes rained clouds and
I floated on solid ground
when I could focus on nothing else but the will to blink.
A silent voice issued a deafening whisper
of an ellipse and a question mark […?] at the center of the universe.
I asked if I would find i there.
I endured.
Truth with a capital t replaced forever by
a lowercase i.
I found comfort in a moment’s hubris,
sparkling.
When the human animal dives into a sea of ignorance
the honest lose themselves in the tides,
and the gullible, who cannot bear to face the moon,
struggle against gravity.
Enticed by i’s shimmering cubic zirconia promises, they
risk life hoping to retrieve it, shine a light on it, understand and own it.
Upon illumination, its appeal vanishes almost instantly.
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