A stranger less fortunate (edited)

[tectak]

Any and all help is appreciated; still very new to poetry.
Okay, I chopped most of it off and I think I'm in 2014 now: Much, much better. Less is more. The nits to follow are opinion. Others will agree/disagree....but now it is your poem. The previous version was owned by a million others

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I awoke in a labyrinth; it's walls stretched beyond measure. its. No apostrophe. That's a contraction for it is. Period after labyrinth as you have written a sentence. Use the semicolon to link clauses or contextually dependent content. Using "its" can be problematical and can often be eliminated . Try:
I woke in a labyrinth, walls stretched beyond measure;
roots and trees grew like serpents alive in the gloom.
Your poem....but try to "show" what you mean rather than simply telling.
Roots and trees growing everywhere,
I crept through forest thickets drenched in darkness, "forest" is redundant by context and superfluous by meaning.
I crept through thickets, drenched in darkness,
eyes wide and unblinking, eyelids unused.
Again, your poem...and the redundancy of eyelids (if that is your intent) is worth clarifying...a neat observation.

Forgetting what use my eyelids served,
And time fell off the hinges. Ah. Hmmm. This is a little precipitous. Where did it come from? What can you mean? Now, if you can work in to the line the metaphorical "door of time" you can bridge neatly betwixt "open eyes" and "open door"...complete with hinges. The door of time fell off its hinges. Yes?


Eventually I grew suspicious, Missed opportunities everywhere.
"Suspicion grew slowly, like a vine in the shade"...or something. You are just too bald and statemental but you WILL get the idea. Think metaphor, think imagery, think newness.
Of the voice which had whispered: “walk” This is a disconnect. You have not previously mentioned the voice but you talk of it in the past tense. Implication? You have just thought of it on the hoof. What bloody voice...I was here all the time and heard nothing? You heard it....it was important. Tell the reader something...as it is, only you know. So what is the point of the quick mention?
Hysterical, naked and still without light,
I found myself surrendered
Under this wise old bark. Now you know and I know that these last three lines are going to cause you trouble. You are hysterical...then you sit meekly twiddling your thumbs.Hysterical? You surrender yourself under wise (?) bark. Huh? You are under bark then you are wading through existence? Oh, and why the capital on "under". The problem you have is burgeoning thoughts...which with a little valium you could turn to your great advantage. Most aspiring poets suffer from pensive penury Calm down and think links.

I sit in meekness twiddling my thumbs,
Wading through all existence as time turns to crumbs. "all" is superfluous. I much prefer your metaphorically unhinged time to the bird-feed demise. OK...you can't avoid the time-dust cliche by using crumbs instead You may as well say "...as time turns to sawdust" but you may like sand more. Sands of time allusion? I squirm, agitated, my head in my hands?
I ponder the years, story and quest,
The science of uncertainty, unglamorous existence,
And the art of probability, which was resistance. Look, honest comment here. I have no idea what these last three lines mean. The " science of uncertainty" sounds good but I can only think of fuzzy logic in this category. "Unglamorous existence"... nope, beats the shit out'a me.
"Art of probability" is a mix-up. "Science of probability" scrapes by...but art? Compound the art of probability with what was Ohm's law and we are off on a hotchpotch hike to nowhere. Help.

This is the novice forum and you have shown quite exemplary intent to improve. Critique is by nature pedantic and at once opinionated. Take from each what you will but remember that the poem is master only when you say so...and this is your poem. Critique is not about you...it is about the poem. Watch out for those sneaky line starts giving themselves elevated status.
Best,
tectak