I realize that this isn't precisely a poetry forum, but I've got one that's been surfacing in me mind off and on that I'd like to get some opinions on. I'll admit, it's a tad long, but I like to egotistically declare it to be worth a read, at least. The title of the work is the title of the post, and I'll make note of that which concerns me most at the end of the poem.

***

I

I can't tell you how many times
I've stared at my own eyelids
so intensely that I nearly burned them off,
but then where would I be?
I'd have no choice but to stare
at all the world unblinking
until the harsh air dries my eyes
and kills them.
Then again, my gaze could grow
intense enough to burn the world,
a freakish flame that immolates
everything I see.
Perhaps it's for the best then
that I always get distracted,
and the world is ever spared
its fiery fate.

II

Have you called someone beautiful lately?
Have you truly wished somebody well?
Have you given kind words to a stranger?
Well I certainly haven't.
Kind words can be lost just like that;
on bad days they die in your mouth,
rotting away as cruel halitosis.
I wonder if that rotting stench
can ever truly be cleansed,
or if forever I will choke
on the corpses
of dead kindnesses.

III

It's perfect.
I see a lovely lady,
feel enthralled by her beauty,
and walk towards her, plotting what to say.
I know all the words as I approach,
and yet I do not speak;
I simply pass.

IV

When I cannot speak without being asked
I feel dead inside,
and why not?
There is a name for creatures
who cannot enter
without an
invitation.

V

The thing about webs
is that they tie things up,
bind them together,
give them form when all is chaos.
I wonder, is that any consolation
to the flies?

VI

A bad mood is a terrifying thing,
twisting in your mind like a screw in a board,
tightening until it cracks and splinters.
How many turns until you hate
the happy couple on the bus
just for making out
as though your world weren't ending?
How many turns until you shudder
when you see somebody smile,
and you think you'll never manage to get by?
How many turns until you fear
any voice of reassurance,
turning your back until they leave you
all alone once more?
It twists and splinters,
cracks and tears,
and finally you just can't take it anymore...
You then begin to undo
every bad turn you've endured;
does the terrifying mood
at last depart?

VII

As I walk among the corpses in my mind
I often wonder why they're here.
So many thoughts I've had to kill
for being inappropriate
or simply inconvenient.
Every kindness left unsaid,
every harsh word that I've muted,
they're all here
rotting in the dark.
Every action left untaken
every thought that led to nothing
every poem I never wrote,
all moldering in a pile
in the middle of my mind,
as if there was a war
and every gravedigger died.

VIII

I can feel something between world and want,
thick strands that cross just behind my eyes
that my clarity of vision might blind me
to the threads that cloud my mind.
They hold me in a spider web's embrace,
trapped amongst the corpses of the thoughts that tried to leave.
As I dangle in these sticky strands
I stare upon the withered corpses,
wondering from whence this netting came.
It must have been a spider,
ever weaving, ever hungry,
and now I wait for it
to feed again.

IX

Secrets are never a problem
to those who never keep them,
and I've never been one to.
Unless a poem is a secret,
with its metaphors and line breaks
masking something;
the form lies to hide the truth
that lies within.

X

With so much death within my mind I wonder,
what am I?
It seems with every choice I make
another thought must die,
as if I take their lives
to fuel my own.
I must be a vampire
in my hall of death,
the heap of bodies mortared
into castle walls around me
while I sit upon a throne
of my first victims.
As I stare aross my mindscape
with its sunset stain of blood,
I wonder just how many more
I'll kill before I'm through.

XI

There is a creature in this world
that feeds upon the living,
a thing all limbs and eyes and fangs
that drains its victims of their liquid life.

XII

I think I'm looking for my spider
in the lies I tell myself,
in the poems I weave to hide the truths
escaping from my mind.
There are times when I wonder
while I weave this tangled web:
who do I seek
when I am the one
with corpses
in his silk?

XIII

It seems to me it all comes out the same,
so in my patient spider hunt
I finally come to see the lies
that have defined me
all this time.
I am the scourge, I am the dark, I am my enemy?
And in the end I cower alone,
convinced that I must hide
or eat myself.

***

As I said I would, here are my biggest concerns: the sequencing of the sections is something I'm not entirely happy with, and I'm not sure all the threads tie themselves up. Anything that feels like its in the wrong place, or even in the wrong sequence of poems, is something I'd like pointed out.

<sighs> You're going to make me put in that poetry section, aren't you. ^_^

Love it. That's all I can say right now, cause I have to start getting ready for work...

But I love it. ^_^

The progression is nice. It's implied early on, but the actual Spider reference is a slow, solid, careful build. Dark, but nicely so. I'm not sure if there's much I would change in the sequence. Some parts can fit anywhere, and may be worth playing with, but for now, that bit of uncertainty actually seems to add it for me, as if it is someone asking themselves in a rumbling train of thought, rather than producing a work of creativity. That of course, could be my love of rants and raves talking, but I like it nevertheless.

A couple of specifics that I liked/didn't:

-Loved the Eyelids
-Not sure about the Halitosis...may want to make it a bit more subtle, like the 'unknown stench', 'paste' or 'bad taste in your mouth'. A bit more tangable, and works with the 'clean out' reference just after.
-Grouping the 'lovely lady' in part III closer with the people making out on the bus/smiling may be more effective.
-The Dead Inside comment is beautiful. How many people feel dying when they just can't get the words out?
-Again, VERY nice with the Webs and Flies references. ^_^
-Part 6 seems to break away from the tradition and go full-tilt into the 'rant' style. It continues on and slowly...slowly...backs off again. I think it works nicely.
-Ending is very nice. A bit dark and angsty, but at the same time, you build away from going to 'Gothy' and I think it comes out more honest and scared than dark when seen all together.

Love it. Oh, and I re-phrased the topic. Hope it helps to inspire more poetry. ^_^