See me.
See my outside.
My skin, a sullen terrain
Of Sticks and stones hailing a busy city.
What's that landscape a metaphor for?
My heritage is superfluous hair,
And fat thighs and gut.
And a perpetual frown disappointed.
Am I decomposing already?
How long has this been happening?
My facade invites few.
They deprive and then leave.
I've only learned
I'm a social recluse.
It's my excuse,
That my experiences reveal nothing.
But do my own definitions give away.
Look at that unfamiliar face.
Do I own that *thing*?
Then look at the body
And those physical traits.
Where can you see embedded, the solitude?
Where's my reflexion (with an 'x')?
I dream of bending backwards on my self.
It's then that I seem made...
Of stuff that pretends to make sense.
But that's just a contradicting feeling,
That like the dream,
It disperses with wake.
Night-by-night reveals, me to me.
Liken that to clear air during peak hour.
The feeling is constricting,
Leaves me with laboured breathing.
Comments
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Revealing the Flesh Within the Exoskeletal.
Hi Exo. Your first stanza drew me in especially. Worth a poem by itself. (typo - metaphor)
The second stanza could perhaps be fleshed out a bit more, the "excuse" rhyme rendered a bit more subtle though there s nothing superfluous in what you are trying to convey.
In fact this in my opinion is surprisingly good. I say surprising because a reader could be lulled into thinking: Ah, another "poor me" poem.
But your compelling take on physicality coupled with your evocative nom de plume exposes a writer of some calibre and contemplative skill.
The third stanza is really well put I thought, describing a jarring introspection which gives any reader laboured breathing!
((typo? disperses, perhaps dissolves might be better? Or dissipates) Bit clumsy and unfinished this sentence. How about: "It fades when I awaken" ?
I felt the third to last sentence also a tad hastily wrought, Exo.
Riveting work and welcome to ScarePoetry!
Warm regards
gG
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An insightful piece!
This speaks in detail about your introspection, dear E. Nothing is seen beyond what is unknown. The art of seeing within isn’t mastered by all, indeed. Taking the measure of oneself is a bit difficult to think about. I have contemplated over the same idea, though many times I did it, but I haven’t got the spark to pen on that idea. This attempt of yours deserves a ‘Hats Off!’…
Second stanza is highly thought provoking and powerful. It invited me to read it again and again for its richness and power. It brings in my mind T S Eliot’s ‘The Waste Land’!
Ps: Line 3: Metaphor, isn’t it?
This is one of the best poems, Sharepoetry has given to my read.
Keep writing.
Love
-Kiddy
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