(Untitled)

[writingonmyskin]

i've been racking wrecking running through my mind every door locked hallways end and ideas abruptly fizzle out again i'm left in darkness with no clues no answers and now i wonder if i have the right question from the starting block before the bullet whizzes by my ear inside i've off and jumped the gun began searching once again for the answers i

Comments

[anonymous]

This was very much like running a race; I was breathless by the end. That seems appropriate given the image at the starting block. Very surreal, by the way, having the starting gun have a real bullet. That was very effective. I love your ability to play with words like racking and wrecking, and your ability to throw in natural rhymes like "...locked hallways end and ideas fizzle out again...", and "i wish i knew i wish i had a clue..." Everything comes together nicely and climaxes beautifully with the last line. I also love the painting without a canvas image. Your poem creates such an uregency with its running together of sentences and blending of ideas. Noone can read this without having a physical response to it of, at least, an elevated pulse. That is a quality that I always love in your poetry, and a talent few people have: this ability to provoke emotions on a subliminal level and get beneath the reader's skin.