Critique my poetry, please?

[Spartan_Samuel]

I'm an EXTREMELY AMATEUR poet, and I'd like some advice on a particular piece I've written. It's called Disoriented Mentality for Hire:

A little boy stands in a hall looking at his father
His eyes grow wide with wonder and fear
"Daddy, why can't we be with mommy?
I miss her tucking me in..."
His security blanket viciously thrown into a figurative fire
His heart smashed and left on the curb to be swept away
In a flash, the scenery changes to desolation upon a winter>
>atmosphere upon the Mountains of Anguish in our hearts
Translated to the purest of sources we see ourselves
Blackness consumes our greatest emotional achievements
Aspirations our only ladder to health, we lie at it's summit
Looking up provides the kick we need after weeks
Weeks of pain, weeks of wallowing in pity self-guided>
>Through tunnels and byways of the past and decisions made
Regardless of the path made, the path ahead is bigger
So says the Ladder of Aspirations to our eager ears
Needing the beautiful respite from this Emotional Blizzard
We proceed to our loving demise at the top
Step by rung by bloody, bruised hands we climb
We climb, we rise, we hate, we shed, we live, we climb
Until we reach the top and look down
Red, dark seas surround me in eternal fury
Storm upon passionate hurricane fills the void of our past>
>Presence, a single, luminous, brilliant tear falls
The farther down it falls, the slower time continues
Until the climax of this intercourse of blood occurs
The tear hovers above a single, gigantuous wave of revulsion
The two slowly begin their incestuous mingling
The bottom rung shatters, splintering my feet from the>
>Force of the explosion, my body trembles against power
In one instant, the repulsion subsides, and I feel free
Exhaustion absent from my strong limbs, I look down
Barren be the lands, gone are the Passionate Embrace that>
>Demonic emotions held tightly
But what is this? Foolish light glowing on the floor
Center of the land it seems, perfection oozing out
I jump. Eyes wide open I rush to consume this needed respite
It rushes to meet me, too, till I realize no
The White light turns red as the fury slowly ebbs back into>
>me, and I know I am far gone into it's fiendly embodyment
Fear, jealousy, remembrance, love, friendship, and the rest
They all sock me in my face, blood reinserted into my frame
All feelings evident, they fill my every pore
I flounder, waving my arms until I'm full of everything
Nothing...
White walls surround me on a plastic bed
A nurse with blonde hair and red lipstick looks over me
"Doctor, he's awake! He's awake!" she says as she hangs>
>Her head outside of the door.
Walking over with clicks of her high-heels
She leans her head to my level, our eyes mingling in shock
"I've always known you'd come through. I've always known..."
My vision clouding again, my fear careens out of my system
Heaven ensues as I realize I'm alive
Darkness...

[ZombieRockStar]

This belongs in Arts & Crafts, but it'll get moved soon enough.

I like. You have natural talent and a great ability to create tone and feeling.

Two things, both to do with imagery:

1> More vivid. Create an image. All of the imagery you use seems to have a philosophical bent to it, and at times it can become stodgy. Try and describe as you would in prose to give it a more fresh feel.

2> Needs a more coherent structure to the symbolism. Something to unify it into a larger whole. Perhaps an extended metaphor.

Otherwise, very good for an "amateur." How much poetry do you read, btw?

[Spartan_Samuel]

Not much. All the poetry I wrote was when I was going through a rough time with a girl, so it really helped me get some passion into it. Other than that, only some pieces that the members over at VF have posted on their Poetry Corner (http://vampirefreaks.com/forum) in their forums. If you'd like, I could give you a link to the rest of my "work" (I'm using that term very loosely).

[ZombieRockStar]

Sure. I'll have a look at it.

Though I really recommend expanding what you've read in terms of poetry. You porbably wouldn't think of writing a novel without having read as much as you can, so the same goes for poetry. It doesn't have to be the kind taught in English classes. You can pick up a literary magazine at your local indie bookstore (I'm sure there's one around you somewhere) and find lots of brilliant stuff. Web reading is also good, as long as you can sort the good stuff from the "I'm going to cut myself" stuff. (Which is not a distinction that lies only in whether the poem is sad or not)