Nancy's Poetry Review Forum

Hi! I'm new to this site and I found this page. I don't really know how things work around here, but I really wanted to get some feedback concerning my writing. I like my writing, but I don't know if anyone else does! Can you let me know what you think? And possibly give me some criticism, whether that be good or bad? My writing style is abstract, and it's kind of a mix between prose and poetry. It's tough to describe, but it gets a little dark and intentionally melodramatic sometimes, and it's meant to be... well, bizarre and sometimes nonsensical. Let me know what you think! This is the kind of writing I typically do. It's not for a contest, and it's only a first draft. Basically, I'm trying to see if my writing is any good "au natural" before sprucing it up.

I'm a little worried about wasting your time though, because my writing really isn't poetry... But it's not prose either! I don't know what to call it!! But maybe you can help? If you can't, that's okay too! Thanks ^_^

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Oh, the feeling is bubbling inside of me. A sick, dark rising that starts in my knees and works its way to my elbows. It consumes me from the inside out and strips me of all volition. I can't control my choices, no more than any man or animal can have libertarian free will. Destiny will be my fate, and my path will be chosen by someone other than myself.

I see the future, but I am incapable of changing it. It rushes forwards, no matter how insignificant it may seem. The smallest of lights can cast the biggest shadows. I don't feel strong in the matter, and it's certainly not an issue of mind over matter. We are a twisted integration of body and soul; my dualistic tendencies will not outweigh the undichotomous appeal of my unified nature. I can't compete with myself, and I can't compete with El Shaddai. He will rule over this earth and this present age. Who am I to raise a finger? I can't swallow the ocean anymore than Nietzsche could crucify the Lord Jesus Christ. Not to say that God is directing my steps... May it never be! Rather, I have chosen a path which I am not capable of changing... yet I am responsible for it! Oh cruel soil, must you lick me with the passion of a thousand torches? Am I not unstained enough? That you feel the need to ratify my life?

We are gods, I tell you. Gods! We are creatures of free will who are enslaved to that free will! We are no more free than the inmate across the hall. We bicker and bleed just like everyone else, and if that weren't enough, we're full of puss and synapses. Choice is an illusion that we are held fully responsible for. Can I staunch the inexorable? Ludicrous...

Remember me when you're out of here.