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Apr 22, 2026
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ever silent
Here within lies
a recollection
of large talons
that tear smooth
creamy flesh
a cadence ricochets
off paint peeled walls
of the clatter as soles
strike dry dirt and stone
blood rushes
two sets of eyes
squint and scan
backs hunched low
only darkness shields
momentary peace
words mumbled
in restless sleep
betray the vessel
of secrets deep
burial crypt
posterity's portal
reveals a clue
gravestone cipher
the silent cue.
.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - draft
Comments
neopoet
2 days 2 hours ago
Neopoet AI [2025-04]
The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:
This poem effectively evokes a tense and haunting atmosphere through vivid imagery and carefully paced phrasing. The opening lines introduce a visceral scene with "large talons that tear smooth / creamy flesh," immediately engaging the reader with a sense of violence and vulnerability. The choice of "creamy flesh" contrasts softness with the harshness of the talons, enhancing the impact.
The use of sound is notable, particularly in "a cadence ricochets / off paint peeled walls," which creates an auditory texture that complements the visual setting. The phrase "clatter as soles / strike dry dirt and stone" grounds the scene in a gritty, tactile reality. This sensory layering deepens the immersive quality of the poem.
The poem’s structure, with its short, fragmented lines and strategic spacing, mirrors the fragmented nature of memory and fear. The shifts between physical action ("backs hunched low") and internal states ("words mumbled / in restless sleep") effectively convey a psychological tension. The phrase "only darkness shields / momentary peace" encapsulates a fragile reprieve, emphasizing the precariousness of safety.
The latter stanzas introduce a symbolic dimension with "burial crypt / posterity's portal," suggesting themes of legacy, memory, and hidden truths. The "gravestone cipher / the silent cue" serves as a compelling metaphor for secrets encoded in the past, inviting readers to consider the layers of meaning beneath the surface.
To enhance the poem further, consider clarifying the relationship between the physical violence and the symbolic elements. While the imagery is striking, the connection between the "large talons" and the "burial crypt" could be more explicitly developed to strengthen thematic coherence. Additionally, exploring variations in rhythm or line length might heighten the emotional intensity and prevent the cadence from becoming too uniform.
Overall, the poem’s evocative imagery and atmospheric detail create a compelling exploration of memory, violence, and silence. With some refinement in thematic linkage and rhythmic variation, it could achieve even greater resonance.
Please send feedback about Neo (our AI critique system) to neopoet.com/contact
Frederick Kesner
1 day 11 hours ago
not a memory-piece
“ever silent” isn’t a memory‑piece. It’s a descent built from rooms. Each stanza holds its own pressure and its own acoustics, and the poem works by keeping those rooms separate rather than stitching them into a single corridor.
The talons and flesh aren’t symbols; they’re the first site of danger. From that point, the poem drops through sound: ricochets, clatter, walls, dirt, stone; materials that shape pursuit. The breaks aren’t emotional cracks but structural joints, letting the poem move downward one threshold at a time.
When the poem reaches sleep‑speech, the body stops narrating and simply leaks under strain. The final chamber, crypt, portal, cipher, doesn’t resolve anything; it shifts the frame. What’s left behind is encoded, and its quiet is the record.
The poem doesn’t link talons to crypt or pursuit to inscription. That refusal is the method. Its meaning comes from walking through the rooms, not from a single line of explanation.
This poem is a piece about pursuit, leakage, and the residue that danger tends to leave behind; architecturally worked out and asks to be moved through, not decoded.
Geezer
1 day 21 hours ago
This puts me in mind of...
PTSD that many servicemen have after service in war.
The spotter and the shooter are the [two sets of eyes] in a sniper-team.
The 'momentary peace' the instant of concentration before the shot;
The restless sleep...
The gravestone cipher.
A special designation of some kind on the gravestone, to signal what his service was?
Well written, even without the punctuation, I was clear about the mood,
and the flow. ~ Geez.
Frederick Kesner
1 day 13 hours ago
excellent take!
Thanks G, that is really an excellent take. Perhaps poetic osmosis seeping from my grand dad's service from 1941 to 1971 from Bataan all the way to Saigon. Most appreciated 🙏🕊️
Geezer
1 day 1 hour ago
Having been around...
many ex-servicemen, including two of my uncles, who have been at war, and viewed the carnage up close, and firsthand, I have the feeling that war is not just a shooting gallery that has no consequences, it involves seeing the dead and dying, the terrible wounds and utter devastation of the human body.
Those are things that no one should have to see, and my heart aches for those that have. My sincere thank you to all those servicemen and women who have placed their lives and humanity on those lines. ~ Geez.
Candlewitch
1 day 16 hours ago
Hello again...
I fully immersed myself in the dark atmospheric current of your poem! I am a big fan of the dark side of poetry and stories. This is one to be admired! This section is my favorite of lines of build-up:
words mumbled
in restless sleep
betray the vessel
of secrets deep
always, Cat
eddy styx, my ale alter ego (who writes dark poetry) very much enjoyed it, too!
Frederick Kesner
1 day 13 hours ago
again hello!
...sorry for the outage; a technical glitch that is now currently resolved, thanks to our excellent team here at neopoet.
When unrestrained, like a steering wheel that has a definite bent- darkness begins to pull. That section that you highlighted does tend to open up certain almost dark arts portal. Many thanks, Cat.
Might have to give ole eddy a drop in sometime soon. Thanks dear, styx for enjoying this as well.
cheers,
Freds