Critique my work. please.?

Question

The Pulse.
It's so hard when you're so close.
How can you just let go.
When thoughts are neverending,
yet, you put them to the side.
You wish so many things.
so many things that seem so out of reach.
and the hardest part is facing reality.
But if we give in to pain. We might as well throw in those questions.
You know. those pointless questions that we'll never know the answer to.
Why? Why? Why? We've all been there.
We've all sat down and asked why.
It's life. Thats why.
I am absent-minded.
My cold stare is as tragic is it gets.
I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I'm simply warm. So cold, yet warm.
But im in such a simple state, in which that makes no sense.
No sense at all.
After all of this. After all of that.
After it all.
I'm so numb.
and when I lay down, I have no choice but to contemplate my unimaginable thoughts.
and when I begin to remember.
It hurts.
What hurts?
I dont know. But i can feel it. and its not pleasant.
Even the ticking of the grandfather clock brings a sudden sound of distortion.
An insane spinning collision of sound.
Where everything caves in.
Everything collapses.
A sudden anger. A great anger.
And even a whisper is too rough for my delicate ears.
And then, as I sit up in my uncomfortable chair, I realize that I can feel the weak and steady pulse beating against my chest.
and In frustration, with great hestitation, I rub my fingers along my neck, and feel once more.
A rapid, a heavy beating pulse .
For it to seize was all I longed.
Because then. and just then. I realized that I too have a heart.
and no one saw that before.
and I myself then realized that I too feel pain.
and I wanted it to stop.
for it to just please please stop.
For if i didn't feel any pain.
For if i didn't have a heart.
I would have never been hurt.
I didn't want to accept that fact.
That fact by which was true.
That I too was human.
and I too took a breathe.
A slow. painful. unwelcomed breathe.
So warm. and so heavy.
I didn't want to understand that I was just like you.
Because I was hurt. and someone.
That someone.
The one that sent me a lifetime of harm.
Thats the someone that wasn't considerate of my heart.
Someone hurt me. and they did it. and they didn't think twice before they shattered me.
And i'm dropping a tear.
and with my small, soft finger, it trails the tear down to my neck.
and then I realize...
that I do have a pulse.

Don't worry about the grammar.
I just typed it.
Without concern.
But um...
Im this isnt my best work.
Its like... a bunch of words spilled on a sheet of paper.
but id still like to know your opinion.

Answer 1

It's a very interesting exploration of grief. Don't worry about the punctuation and spelling; I can tell it just fell out of you. With more refinement, not much more, because it's nearly perfect, you have a great poem.

Answer 2

I enjoyed reading your " work ". Whatever I say from now on is with respect and meant to be constructive. There is no doubt about your sensitivity to being. On a practical level though, theme and structure are required. If you have the time read " A Winter's Tale." by Dylan Thomas. All that you wrote is contained in this poem. He created a theme and structure at the same time, winter in a Welsh hill farmhouse. Although he was writing about himself and his emotions, he chose to described those things around him rather than using the first person singular, I, or me.
Your stanza which begins with " Because I was hurt----" seems to be exactly the same, in content but not form, as his stanza which begins " He knelt, he wept, he prayed,-------" .
I could write more but think I should not. Just continue writing.

Answer 3

Well for one thing when you said you 'lay down',, 13 lines later you say when you 'sit up in your uncomfortable chair', , I'd change that, but other than that it isn't too bad, is this supposed to be a story, poem, song lyrics ? It sounds sort of depressing you have to admit, but it has potential to make it into a story, poem, etc....

Answer 4

Um.. I think its just a bunch of words spilled on a sheet of paper.

Answer 5

if i were to artistically answer, i'd say poem. if i were to make sense of it, i'd say life. if i were the pope, i'd say god. if i were Bush, i'd say cattle, and if were to speak as a human, I'd say:" a bunch of words ruining a piece of paper." :D. enjoy :)

Answer 6

I think it sounds great.