It's run in a workshop style...which one kid described as "ripping a band-aid off." It hurts, but you get better, and it's good for you. I figure, the more critism I can get, the better I'll do.
So, please, take a swing at this. I'm not going to tell you about the prompt, but it was hard.
I'd love to hear your interpretation, but that's not exactly what I'm interested in. I'm looking for feedback about the immages. Did any stir you in particular? Is it completely boring, so boring that you couldn't even finish reading it?
And, please, remember that most of you don't know me, so you can't really hurt my feelings. Just let fly...it'll be good for me, like ripping a band-aid off...
Thanks, and if you're already bored, I've got a new beard picture down a couple of posts.
Use the comments, please.
I run, trying to keep pace
A quick glance ahead reveals a cliff
I want to scream a warning,
I swallow coppery tasting mud instead.
I gasp for breath, but my lungs are clogged.
I try to wave my arms;
The more I stretch, the more
My arms are dust.
Then the dust drifts away
And I feel it no more.
I take off my shoes to take a step,
But my socks stick,
And then my bare feet slurp into the mud
And I’m only two slow steps away from where I stopped.
No one else looks up
Eyes stay on the path
On foot goes in front of the other
And red puffs of dust
Explode from each footfall
But never forget about the
Destruction of the path;
We’ve got to get there quickly
Before all is lost
A quick glance back reveals the silent warnings,
Ever present along the path to Antiquity.
Update: Here's a blog that's all poetry. I don't know if it's any good, I just glanced through it. It doesn't seem horrible, but right now I have a high tolerance.
Update II: I did some editing before class, so this is the official official version.