This is my 3rd rendition of this poem: A hymn for the marooned
He can't sleep.
The inmates
[his consciousness]
rattle the cages.
Laying distracted,
haunted,
by matters
fueling woken insomnia.
A puppet perpetrator
living in his mirror.
Sympathy with fiction,
he dreams
of home.
A marooned sailor
without an island.
His hope on the horizon,
noiseless relief
cultivates below him.
Hanging on
the crows nest
the sun rises;
reassurance.
Somewhere,
there
is land.
1: https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5d4fqe/offshore/
2: https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5d0n2w/crooked_stature/
Posted Nov 16, 2016, 1:21 AM UTC · edited
I like the direction this poem takes.
Going from hopelessness to a sense of complacency that this is where the sailor is and he is comfortable with waiting for a better future
My only criticism is that the [his consciousness] line seems out of place with the way it is written. It definitely adds to the poem but I feel you could have introduced the idea that "The inmates" refers to his consciousness a little more fluidly.