• I was up thinking about the fight.

    I barely slept at all.

    She just had to be right.

    The spare room after the brawl.

    I remember the thunder and lightning.

    A bang and a flash.

    The experience was frightening.

    Under the covers in a dash.

    The following morning I woke.

    She must have burnt her toast.

    Lying in bed to the smell of smoke.

    Her cooking’s not to boast!

    As I heard her leave, the kitchen I trod.

    The place was spick and span.

    “She’s been cleaning, how very odd”

    After shit had hit the fan.

    The coffee machine brought no reply.

    Not even any steam.

    Nothing from the stove either. “Sigh”.

    A power cut it would seem.

    I entered work with a nod.

    But I was just met with inaction.

    The computer button I gave a prod.

    But there was no reaction.

    “Of course” I said in a whine.

    Seeing if the others were on.

    “This building’s on the same power line!”

    But the others were working. “Where has my power gone?”

    A trip through the office to tell the boss.

    “My computer's not operational.”

    It seems he won’t help me with this dross.

    Even when confrontational.

    Walking back home I see flashing lights, tape, Tyvek suits.

    “What is this mess?”

    I wonder what this constitutes?

    The scene's at my address!

    I run to the officer.

    Ducking under the tape.

    “Explain the coroner!”

    My mouth in a gape.

    Then along came the detective.

    Looking rather grave.

    To give his perspective.

    The bad news he gave.

    He gives my name, “Yes that’s me” I exclaim.

    “The victim was found on the bed.”

    “Looks like a homicide” he states in great pain.

    “Gunshot wounds to the torso and head."

    A stretcher came out, carrying a man.

    That was the moment it struck.

    Quickly he was covered and put in the van.

    And stood there, I was just stuck.

    As never had it stormed.

    Though there was the flash, the bang and the smoke.

    Emotions grew as my memories swarmed.

    Of those last few moments before I'd awoke.

    I wrote this a while ago with the intention to revisit it one day to get it up to quality standards. Be as brutal as you like.

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    • This was well done, I can tell you tried, if I was to give some advice, loosen up with the full stops.

      Excluding the points where doing so would improve the grammar, it messes with the flow and pace of the poem.

      Also the ending I found was rather confusing, but that may just have been me.

      8/10, excellent job, could use some touching up.

        Loading editor
    • I think the pacing is a big dificulty. It's kinda all over the place. You have some lines that are pretty long next to some that are very short. I'd say your first order of business for a touch up would be normalizing the pace. Rearrange, add, remove, and otherwise modify the words and sentence structure to give it rhythm and make it flow in a way that doesn't start and stop.

      Once that's fixed, maybe consider lengthening it a bit. Add in details like the sense of confusion and frustration at his boss giving him the silent treatment. Let us feel his stomach drop when he finds the police at his home. Express his dread at the big reveal. I know poetry really limits your ability to convey those things, but finding ways to do so while keeping the rhythm smooth for the reader will help you get better both at the syntax of poetry and the nuances of story writing.

      Hopefully this was helpful advice for you.

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    • A FANDOM user
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