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Home » High Critique » The Mountain Range

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!
11/14/2012 12:25:23 PM

conrado888
Posts: 1
Hi there, Ive been writting poetry for quite a while now but have never had the chance to have it critiqued:



The Mountain Range

Before this range of catalytic mountains
Where the sky is for once in the right proportion
The sun becomes nothing more than a fountain
Of light that serve up their beauty as its mission
The rock is anchored in the hidden ground
Traversing it with roots of time unfound
Trees dot and streams stroke, the stone is settled
To always remain the same, with or without the rain
Calm and devouring strength sits static, unheckled
Raised to compound the land with an imperious hand

Poised before it, Man can only wonder what he deserves
Confronted with the beauty of triumphant simplicity, he purrs
Intimidated, his nebulous mind is mated by the unmoved stroke
There is a standstill in thoughts to emulate its passivity and to soak
Into the questioning of the gap of size and his permanent demise
The breeze rustles his hair while the rock stays so placidly wise
The dormant power crushes him without even noticing
Blind and deaf, it molds the earth and all its surroundings
While the spec of human stays content that he is standing

But then comes a deep bolt, from the entrails of within
Inside that darkness, something is moved and it is red
It brews buoyantly, shackled until it reaches the head
The teeth become tight, and the eyes suddenly lock and narrow
Upon those blocks of limestone, no longer in wonder but as a foe
These mounts are so old and dominant, says the rage of the unnatural instinct
The land they share has been submitted but not him, unlike it he will not sink
But rise up and fight against this arrogant might, or at least he must try
The winds and the water has slowly made them weaker, stones cannot lie
These geological masters finally have a threat they can’t begin to interpret
The breath of the man is heavy and deep as he readies to become vicious
Rummaged and auto destructive, blessed and cursed with this genius
He will become the best, whatever the number, the pain, the time
And so he onrushes like anybody else, getting ready to start to climb

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There you go, any thoughts and advice on this would really really appreciated! Thanks!
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