This is good. I like the stop-start beat but it could be altered here and there.

some good measure of a pain makes out poetry to be good...how love can become the same hate..is the fault that of poetry, when all there is to poetry is poetry, to therefore demand answers from poetry and not life is like Ares muscle up humnaity to safe life only for the animal reign of destruction to in the end be... a good play of dialectics, though headside down and legside up of Hegels not Marx correction ... gooder than good

you extremely rich full of dialectics ... i want owe your collction in my hand ....be sure i would read everything you post... again how can dialectics the very matter of nature not make any poem good... except...?

you don't find them... you don't find a poem...

"I am willing to try", if only all others can in the same spirit uphold...then we can bring Heaven down to Mother earth... abeg thematically tight... who can then care for "cliches" and "metaphors"...

Here too as in the other hemisphere/ are metal jungles is close to working. I have a couple of problems: (i) the other hemisphere-- I tend to view jungles as being in the tropics rather than part of a given hemisphere (ii)metal jungles [too]-- are you comparing two metal jungles. If you are it is difficult to ascertain which particular places you are comparing.

Sounds like something the wretched Dovina would write. It is all tell and not show.

I loved this before and it's still good revised.

It does seem like a prank.

Made with a void - how sad. But how comforting when a void is filled. The shape of a void is the reverse of the thing that fits there.

The rhythm and rhyme are so good that the lapses glare.

keep going on ..it's very cinematic

he shoud know he's running out of time open up, surrender to the plot when a cold wind blew on this day we looked the other way tomorrow we might find the answers lay in riverbeds and dust we believed sth beyond the beauty and order our great city of vision lost in this beautiful choas

The title seems distant from the subject, makes me wonder who or what is buried.

Too much vague telling here. I'm just not with it.

So many grammar glitches here, I have to wonder if the few correct phrases are mistakes in a dialect of hopelessness.

Happy birthday indeed

Dovina's got a point about the vagueness, I'm afraid. Slender moments failing? How do moments fail? Mortality's dust falling is quite a good idea in a post-apocalyptic way. You could turn this into a pseudo-biblical style piece to accommodate the language (epoch, eon, halcyon etc.) as it seems a little OTT as it is. As an aside, Redhill isn't a million miles from my home, although I can't remember having ever been there.

I quite like this and I don't know why.

Love the last stanza and like the idea within 'greenly', although I hate the word itself. 'Factuality' really doesn't sit well as a line end, 'fact' would do just as well for me. Too many uses of 'he'; maybe you're trying to show his idealistic egocentrism, but it sits awkwardly with me. Still effective though. Happy New Year :-)