Solitary

[LorettaYoung]

 Solitary

Ah, I'm lost in solitary confines;
my body stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter alter-consciousness.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes of
merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility;
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe:
I clutch it to my heart to make it so,
with force of fury bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

[Isis]

I like the way rhyme weaves through this poem, more important in some parts than others. It's not a form I recognize, but I don't know a whole lot about form poetry - is this poem written in a particular form, or did you start with a form and then tweak and bend it? There are parts of the poem that call attention to the rhyme, but other parts where it sort of chugs along in the background, unifying the poem but not overpowering what you're trying to say. I think the places where the poem uses half-rhyme, or where rhyming series of lines weave with lines that stand more on their own, tend to be a little bit more in the background. I like that better, personally, but other readers might feel differently. I feel like the rhyme is most noticeable and draws the most attention to itself in the last stanza of the poem, mostly because of the 2 sets of 3 lines each with an "ee/lly" end rhyme.

Something about this poem reminds me of Emily Dickinson; not her voice or her approach to line or sound, but definitely the kind of subject matter she engaged with.

I think the poem is strongest when we get to go beyond the general situation and get little glimpses into the speaker's mind. The first few lines make me ask "what is she imagining? Can I see this unbridled imagination?" and so I'm happy when the poem delivers on that. I'm particularly intrigued by the following parts, but I also wish I could imagine them more concretely:

Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free

This felt like the most clear and concrete vision or imagined thing in the poem. I could imagine the speaker leaning over the window sill, unfocusing her eyes, imagining the atoms in everything and the way all of matter seemed to be alive. It's a very exciting, maybe even childlike, generous way of imagining the world for someone who is physically confined, and it made me take my mind somewhere new.

Sweet dreams where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;

The inverted syntax needed to make this rhyme gave me a little bit of trouble, but once I read it a second time I imagined the speaker dreaming about lovers, and then maybe yanking them from dream into waking imagination, seeing herself talk to them even though she's technically alone. Is that what you're getting at here? On second thought I could be missing something ...

shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting paths to know,
the destiny which beckons me.
A winding path in winds that blow.
A wealth of visions that path aglow.

I think the metaphor of the path is one that people will be familiar with, but I like the way you've dressed it up with image: the idea of lights along ones path in life. But I feel like I've stopped at the idea of the path, the fact that it exists ... I still wonder where it leads, what landscape it winds through.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;

What is a dream like, floating on a crystal sea? Is a dream a boat, a leaf, a slip of paper, a person on their back? I think that using something concrete to describe something abstract can help us conceptualize it and can help us understand what the speaker is saying and feeling ... but here I don't know if it goes concrete enough for me to really grasp it.

[LorettaYoung]

I like the way rhyme weaves through this poem, more important in some parts than others. It's not a form I recognize, but I don't know a whole lot about form poetry - is this poem written in a particular form, or did you start with a form and then tweak and bend it? There are parts of the poem that call attention to the rhyme, but other parts where it sort of chugs along in the background, unifying the poem but not overpowering what you're trying to say. I think the places where the poem uses half-rhyme, or where rhyming series of lines weave with lines that stand more on their own, tend to be a little bit more in the background. I like that better, personally, but other readers might feel differently. I feel like the rhyme is most noticeable and draws the most attention to itself in the last stanza of the poem, mostly because of the 2 sets of 3 lines each with an "ee/lly" end rhyme.

Something about this poem reminds me of Emily Dickinson; not her voice or her approach to line or sound, but definitely the kind of subject matter she engaged with.

I think the poem is strongest when we get to go beyond the general situation and get little glimpses into the speaker's mind. The first few lines make me ask "what is she imagining? Can I see this unbridled imagination?" and so I'm happy when the poem delivers on that. I'm particularly intrigued by the following parts, but I also wish I could imagine them more concretely:

Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free

This felt like the most clear and concrete vision or imagined thing in the poem. I could imagine the speaker leaning over the window sill, unfocusing her eyes, imagining the atoms in everything and the way all of matter seemed to be alive. It's a very exciting, maybe even childlike, generous way of imagining the world for someone who is physically confined, and it made me take my mind somewhere new.

Sweet dreams where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;

The inverted syntax needed to make this rhyme gave me a little bit of trouble, but once I read it a second time I imagined the speaker dreaming about lovers, and then maybe yanking them from dream into waking imagination, seeing herself talk to them even though she's technically alone. Is that what you're getting at here? On second thought I could be missing something ...

shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting paths to know,
the destiny which beckons me.
A winding path in winds that blow.
A wealth of visions that path aglow.

I think the metaphor of the path is one that people will be familiar with, but I like the way you've dressed it up with image: the idea of lights along ones path in life. But I feel like I've stopped at the idea of the path, the fact that it exists ... I still wonder where it leads, what landscape it winds through.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;

What is a dream like, floating on a crystal sea? Is a dream a boat, a leaf, a slip of paper, a person on their back? I think that using something concrete to describe something abstract can help us conceptualize it and can help us understand what the speaker is saying and feeling ... but here I don't know if it goes concrete enough for me to really grasp it.

---

Dear Isis: Thank you so much for replying and reading; and you are mostly right on. This was a time I insisted on for myself because I had been so busy. I locked my BR door and and shut off the phone and cleared everything out of my mind except writing. Immediately, I began to enjoy the situation so much I decided to write about it. I really am a newbie in disguise, I am motivated by sound, rhythm and a particular passion to express and am here trying to learn to do it better, rhme was a device I used to create rhythm, perhaps interest. but am trying to use less. I was dreaming or imagining that in those confines I could do that; if I conformed my mind. One imagining was of floating free, aimlessly, I pictured the swan and have tried to express that dream as part of my freedom in solitary. You are the second poet to tell me about Dickenson. I have read some of your work here and admired it a lot; but being so new I am just learning to critique, it's hard for me to critique a poem which is so beautiful to read, but I can see how important it is. Thanks again Isis

[Erthona]

Loretta,

Change the title, it does not accurately speak to the poem. It seems to talk about being in prison, throws the whole poem off.

Dale

[LorettaYoung]

Hi Dale, thank you, you are right; even lost to is questionable as to clarity. Loretta

---

Free in Solitary

Ah, I am lost to solitary confines.
My body is at rest, but my mind defined;
by imagination, unbridled and unconfined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting paths to know,
the destiny which beckons me.
A winding path in winds that blow.
A wealth of visions that path aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, lost to solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

I like the way rhyme weaves through this poem, more important in some parts than others. It's not a form I recognize, but I don't know a whole lot about form poetry - is this poem written in a particular form, or did you start with a form and then tweak and bend it? There are parts of the poem that call attention to the rhyme, but other parts where it sort of chugs along in the background, unifying the poem but not overpowering what you're trying to say. I think the places where the poem uses half-rhyme, or where rhyming series of lines weave with lines that stand more on their own, tend to be a little bit more in the background. I like that better, personally, but other readers might feel differently. I feel like the rhyme is most noticeable and draws the most attention to itself in the last stanza of the poem, mostly because of the 2 sets of 3 lines each with an "ee/lly" end rhyme.

Something about this poem reminds me of Emily Dickinson; not her voice or her approach to line or sound, but definitely the kind of subject matter she engaged with.

I think the poem is strongest when we get to go beyond the general situation and get little glimpses into the speaker's mind. The first few lines make me ask "what is she imagining? Can I see this unbridled imagination?" and so I'm happy when the poem delivers on that. I'm particularly intrigued by the following parts, but I also wish I could imagine them more concretely:

Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free

This felt like the most clear and concrete vision or imagined thing in the poem. I could imagine the speaker leaning over the window sill, unfocusing her eyes, imagining the atoms in everything and the way all of matter seemed to be alive. It's a very exciting, maybe even childlike, generous way of imagining the world for someone who is physically confined, and it made me take my mind somewhere new.

Sweet dreams where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;

The inverted syntax needed to make this rhyme gave me a little bit of trouble, but once I read it a second time I imagined the speaker dreaming about lovers, and then maybe yanking them from dream into waking imagination, seeing herself talk to them even though she's technically alone. Is that what you're getting at here? On second thought I could be missing something ...

shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting paths to know,
the destiny which beckons me.
A winding path in winds that blow.
A wealth of visions that path aglow.

I think the metaphor of the path is one that people will be familiar with, but I like the way you've dressed it up with image: the idea of lights along ones path in life. But I feel like I've stopped at the idea of the path, the fact that it exists ... I still wonder where it leads, what landscape it winds through.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;

What is a dream like, floating on a crystal sea? Is a dream a boat, a leaf, a slip of paper, a person on their back? I think that using something concrete to describe something abstract can help us conceptualize it and can help us understand what the speaker is saying and feeling ... but here I don't know if it goes concrete enough for me to really grasp it.

---

Dear Isis: Thank you so much for replying and reading; and you are mostly right on. This was a time I insisted on for myself because I had been so busy. I locked my BR door and and shut off the phone and cleared everything out of my mind except writing. Immediately, I began to enjoy the situation so much I decided to write about it. I really am a newbie in disguise, I am motivated by sound, rhythm and a particular passion to express and am here trying to learn to do it better, rhme was a device I used to create rhythm, perhaps interest. but am trying to use less. I was dreaming or imagining that in those confines I could do that; if I conformed my mind. One imagining was of floating free, aimlessly, I pictured the swan and have tried to express that dream as part of my freedom in solitary. You are the second poet to tell me about Dickenson. I have read some of your work here and admired it a lot; but being so new I am just learning to critique, it's hard for me to critique a poem which is so beautiful to read, but I can see how important it is. Thanks again Isis

---

Hi again: forgot: "sweet dreams Where passion show opened two topics of thought; I don't equate passion only to the opposite sex; although there was also a love I dreamed about; but incidental to many passions, the sweet dreams show. Best, Loretta

[Tiger the Lion]

Hi Loretta, I have read this many times and like it very much. It's about all of us here, after all. Took me a few days to even muster a crit as I thought most of the other comments were very good. I agree about the title. I wonder if the problem in the title extends into the first stanza...
Ah, I am lost to solitary confines.
My body is at rest, but my mind defined;
by imagination, unbridled and unconfined.

I'm pretty sure the "meaning" in L1 is a joyous time for the speaker. But lost/solitary/confines seem to all carry negative connotations that create a "mood" bigger than the meaning. ( maybe not so much with "lost")
I think you might be asking too much of the word confine. You are asking it to be a comfort in line 1 then demonize it in L3. I see what you were going for, but some readers might not be sure whether or not they want to be confined. I hope that made sense.
I enjoyed this every time I read it. Thanks for sharing, Paul

[LorettaYoung]

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
where imagination rules unconfined.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

Hi Loretta, I have read this many times and like it very much. It's about all of us here, after all. Took me a few days to even muster a crit as I thought most of the other comments were very good. I agree about the title. I wonder if the problem in the title extends into the first stanza...
Ah, I am lost to solitary confines.
My body is at rest, but my mind defined;
by imagination, unbridled and unconfined.

I'm pretty sure the "meaning" in L1 is a joyous time for the speaker. But lost/solitary/confines seem to all carry negative connotations that create a "mood" bigger than the meaning. ( maybe not so much with "lost")
I think you might be asking too much of the word confine. You are asking it to be a comfort in line 1 then demonize it in L3. I see what you were going for, but some readers might not be sure whether or not they want to be confined. I hope that made sense.
I enjoyed this every time I read it. Thanks for sharing, Paul

[QDeathstar]

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness these two lines feel really cheesy to me. The rest of the poem is educated. Suit of flesh is a ridiculous image for this poem.
where imagination rules unconfined.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

The ending of the poem makes me wonder; the speaker had the opportunity to go somewhere or discover something, but ended up wondering aimlessly? Why...

[LorettaYoung]

Thank you for sharing Paul. I think you have valid points. Perhaps I do not show how blissfull this self-imposed confinement was. I know what you mean about lost; I did mean carried away by a defined mind; isolating myself from worldly cares, lost to imagination. But it is a good critique that it may be confusing. I was hoping the word free, before it would indicate a pleased sigh. Thanks, your enjoyment is a pleasant surprise. If you care to look at the original version it is my opinion that I did not achieve much more form; but seem to have lost some melody, maybe excitement. Best, Loretta

---

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness these two lines feel really cheesy to me. The rest of the poem is educated. Suit of flesh is a ridiculous image for this poem.
where imagination rules unconfined.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

The ending of the poem makes me wonder; the speaker had the opportunity to go somewhere or discover something, but ended up wondering aimlessly? Why...

---

tictak: OK, show me where PLEASE. Best, Loretta

[QDeathstar]

Oph, i wanted to add i did think the poem was pretty strong, but that those two lines stood out to me as weak.

[LorettaYoung]

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness these two lines feel really cheesy to me. The rest of the poem is educated. Suit of flesh is a ridiculous image for this poem.
where imagination rules unconfined.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

The ending of the poem makes me wonder; the speaker had the opportunity to go somewhere or discover something, but ended up wondering aimlessly? Why...

---

Hi Q:Casting off the often pesty fleshy parts of life leaves freedom of mind; she goes to her mind; there floats and imagines the swan; floating free aimlessly. Thanks Q for reading and commenting. Best, Loretta

[kmatrixg]

This has good rhythm, and some well thought out imagery. Good use of dualistic properties.

[LorettaYoung]

This has good rhythm, and some well thought out imagery. Good use of dualistic properties.

---

This has good rhythm, and some well thought out imagery. Good use of dualistic properties.

---

Hi: thank you Kmatrixg for reading and commenting

---

Hi: thank you Kmatrixg for reading and commenting

---

Hi: thank you Kmatrixg for reading and commenting

[LorettaYoung]

Loretta,

Change the title, it does not accurately speak to the poem. It seems to talk about being in prison, throws the whole poem off.

Dale

---

Hi: changed the title which was of course correct; but I can't believe there are not other
objections. Best, Loretta

[Joey Automata]

This is my first time here so excuse me if I don't follow proper protocol.

Let me start off with the basic: why I read your poem. I'm not gonna read every single poem on this forum. When I scour collections of poetry, whether on a forum like this or even a collection from one of my favorite poets, I look at the titles. I read the ones that catch my eye. And your title caught my eye. I like the contradiction in the title.

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.

Speaking of contradiction, I really liked your first two lines. The rhyme scheme, the rhythm, the contradiction, and the play on the title.

I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
where imagination rules unconfined.

Started to kind of lose me after the strong introduction. The rhyme scheme got a little inconsistent and the imagery wasn't as clear. Also, the contradictions got a little weaker. Plus, I didn't like that you used the word "confine" again.

Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

The rhyme scheme of the first stanza kind of confused me. It's AABBBAAACC. Maybe that's a thing. I've never heard of that scheme. It doesn't really work for me. I'm not sure if that was intentional.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.

The poem got a little too sing-songy at this point. The rhythm became a little too melodic, unlike earlier in the poem.

Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement

"Loneliness and excitement" kind of throw me off. I'm not sure if you did that intentionally to continue with the contradiction theme.

lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage

The verb "engage" doesn't really work for me. But I do like the crystal sea and swan metaphor.

and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

Rhyme scheme throws me off again. This last stanza was ABBBCBBB. And many of those "B" rhymes were more of slant rhymes than exact rhymes.

Overall, I think you were a little inconsistent in your deliver. The rhyme scheme was inconsistent, the rhythm was choppy at bars and melodic at others, and the imagery switched back and forth between concrete and abstract.

[LorettaYoung]

This is my first time here so excuse me if I don't follow proper protocol.

Let me start off with the basic: why I read your poem. I'm not gonna read every single poem on this forum. When I scour collections of poetry, whether on a forum like this or even a collection from one of my favorite poets, I look at the titles. I read the ones that catch my eye. And your title caught my eye. I like the contradiction in the title.

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.

Speaking of contradiction, I really liked your first two lines. The rhyme scheme, the rhythm, the contradiction, and the play on the title.

I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
where imagination rules unconfined.

Started to kind of lose me after the strong introduction. The rhyme scheme got a little inconsistent and the imagery wasn't as clear. Also, the contradictions got a little weaker. Plus, I didn't like that you used the word "confine" again.

Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

The rhyme scheme of the first stanza kind of confused me. It's AABBBAAACC. Maybe that's a thing. I've never heard of that scheme. It doesn't really work for me. I'm not sure if that was intentional.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.

The poem got a little too sing-songy at this point. The rhythm became a little too melodic, unlike earlier in the poem.

Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement

"Loneliness and excitement" kind of throw me off. I'm not sure if you did that intentionally to continue with the contradiction theme.

lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage

The verb "engage" doesn't really work for me. But I do like the crystal sea and swan metaphor.

and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

Rhyme scheme throws me off again. This last stanza was ABBBCBBB. And many of those "B" rhymes were more of slant rhymes than exact rhymes.

Overall, I think you were a little inconsistent in your deliver. The rhyme scheme was inconsistent, the rhythm was choppy at bars and melodic at others, and the imagery switched back and forth between concrete and abstract.

---

This is my first time here so excuse me if I don't follow proper protocol.

Let me start off with the basic: why I read your poem. I'm not gonna read every single poem on this forum. When I scour collections of poetry, whether on a forum like this or even a collection from one of my favorite poets, I look at the titles. I read the ones that catch my eye. And your title caught my eye. I like the contradiction in the title.

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.

Speaking of contradiction, I really liked your first two lines. The rhyme scheme, the rhythm, the contradiction, and the play on the title.

I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
where imagination rules unconfined.

Started to kind of lose me after the strong introduction. The rhyme scheme got a little inconsistent and the imagery wasn't as clear. Also, the contradictions got a little weaker. Plus, I didn't like that you used the word "confine" again.

Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

The rhyme scheme of the first stanza kind of confused me. It's AABBBAAACC. Maybe that's a thing. I've never heard of that scheme. It doesn't really work for me. I'm not sure if that was intentional.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.

The poem got a little too sing-songy at this point. The rhythm became a little too melodic, unlike earlier in the poem.

Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement

"Loneliness and excitement" kind of throw me off. I'm not sure if you did that intentionally to continue with the contradiction theme.

lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage

The verb "engage" doesn't really work for me. But I do like the crystal sea and swan metaphor.

and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly,
for some poor fool to follow me.

Rhyme scheme throws me off again. This last stanza was ABBBCBBB. And many of those "B" rhymes were more of slant rhymes than exact rhymes.

Overall, I think you were a little inconsistent in your deliver. The rhyme scheme was inconsistent, the rhythm was choppy at bars and melodic at others, and the imagery switched back and forth between concrete and abstract.

---

Hi Joey: thanks for reading and the time you took to comment: I began writing from sudden inspiration and passion for words;with no knowledge of form whatsoever; my first interest was melody and rhythm; I am here to learn form to hopefully improve their impact; however, in certain cases I will not sacrifice impact and rhythm to rules. I do however use them when it augments the poem, and have been working toward that. Best, Loretta

---

Hi Joey: thank you for taking the time for a thoughtful edit. I wrote this when I didn't really know form was so important; but to my first thought was rhythm and emotion; I am now learning form; but I care about rhythm and melody first. If you read the original version I think it is more rhymic; but I am working towards incorporating better form without sacrificing the sound or message. Best, Loretta

[nb]

Hi LorettaYoung!

On the whole, lovely.

But why is the one who follows you a "poor fool'? Perhaps he or she might be inspired by your example?

nb

[LorettaYoung]

Hi Loretta, I have read this many times and like it very much. It's about all of us here, after all. Took me a few days to even muster a crit as I thought most of the other comments were very good. I agree about the title. I wonder if the problem in the title extends into the first stanza...
Ah, I am lost to solitary confines.
My body is at rest, but my mind defined;
by imagination, unbridled and unconfined.

I'm pretty sure the "meaning" in L1 is a joyous time for the speaker. But lost/solitary/confines seem to all carry negative connotations that create a "mood" bigger than the meaning. ( maybe not so much with "lost")
I think you might be asking too much of the word confine. You are asking it to be a comfort in line 1 then demonize it in L3. I see what you were going for, but some readers might not be sure whether or not they want to be confined. I hope that made sense.
I enjoyed this every time I read it. Thanks for sharing, Paul

---

Hi Tiger: I would hope that the reader who gather that this confine was a happy choice; a choice to be freed from life to imagination. If I did not show this then I need to find a better way somewhere. I agree that the title and first line are off and am thinking of what to do. But thanks for your time and comments. Loretta

---

Hi LorettaYoung!

On the whole, lovely.

But why is the one who follows you a "poor fool'? Perhaps he or she might be inspired by your example?

nb

---

Hi nb: thanks for reading and commenting. There are endless paths to choose from; even in a momentary time. There is purposeful irony to the statement of a poor fool following that chance path. I will say philosophically that beauty is on the other side of the coin of pain. Loretta

[theswelter]

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

[LorettaYoung]

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi Loretta,
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem. My take away feeling is that I would like more specificity, it feels dreamy and swirling, but I would like it to also be grounded in details, whether metaphorical or real. Also, "a myriad of", I believe the word myriad is improperly used here. Shouldn't it be "myriad dreams"?

Free in Solitary

I'm free, in solitary confines.
My body is stationary, but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress.
Casting free this suit of flesh,
I encounter an alter-consciousness
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and ringing chimes.
I'm bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly and free.

Time now, my friend, not foe.
And I clutch it to my heart
to make it so: with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind.
Sweet dreams, where urgent passions show
two faces of this confine grow;
shades of loneliness and excitement
lighting distant paths to know,
a wealth of visions, those paths aglow.

A myriad of dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea;
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behind his traces aimlessly.
As I, free in solitary confines
float with open curiosity.
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.


Original version (Lost to solitary confines)

Ah, lost to solitary confines.
My body stationary,
but mind defined.
I steal my solace from distress
and earthly limits, with joy reject.
Casting free this shell of flesh
I encounter my alter-universe.
Tiny atoms whisper rhymes
of merry play and singing chimes.

Memory: the spirits whisper,
is stolen destiny prophesied
long ago. A withered finger points
a way I do not know;
winding roads to wend
to slip and bend.
Then rugged mountains
white with snow to climb, I'm
bent across the sill of possibility
floating aimlessly nd free

Time now m friend, not woe,
and that I clutch it to my heart
to make it so, with force of fury
bent upon my soul and mind;
the glory if it be, I seek to find.
Sweet dreams where urgent passions know
love sought in every face aglow;
two faces of this confine grow
which cast bot shades of loneliness
and excitement,
lighting paths to know
that destiny which beckons me.

A myriad o dreams engage
and float upon a crystal sea
as does the swan so gracefully
leave behine his traces aimlessly.

As I, lost in solitary confines
float with open curiosity
I leave behind my traces aimlessly
for some poor fool to follow me.

---

Hi: The definition of myriad is an innumerable amount of; so I think it fits.
I appreciate your questioning concreteness; this is a writing about a state of mind and imagination; the main state is one of freedom, then imagination; I will certainly take your suggestion for more concreteness with consideration should I take on a similar subject, but this as written and conceived would have to be a whole new poem. I do appreciate your thinking it is beautiful and thank you for your time in reading and commenting. Best, Loretta