How Does A Poet Evoke The Reader’s Senses ??

I have yet to ask for reader interaction and this is a perfect opportunity as I am stumped 🤔

It makes me madder than a hatter when I have an experience that incites such lucidity, I can taste, smell, feel, hear the memory of it. When I attempt to wrap it in the tidy box of the English language – the whole of the passion I intend to express falls flat. I am in dire need of advice on how to best pique a readers senses, evoke a more intimate presence on the page…I need them to blink furiously, rub their eyes, and inventory their surroundings – as one does after a dream has kept you too long.

The poem that fell flat: hahaha HELP!!!!

Odious clouds commence their gathering

Heavy as a sinister sorcery

From my altar, I petition the seasons

Might they teach me their cyclic

Existence; to ascertain time and weight

Compel their leaves to withdraw

Sustain their roots

A grim chord reverberates

Claps like dull thunder

Still, I am sturdy against the trunk

Number the casualties in flight

Admire their elegant scrawl

Nature’s exquisite scripture

A compulsion grips me

The tempest pulls me to my feet

Bellows a grim requiem to

Signal their final departure

Full circle –

If it weren’t for each of my misfortunes

There would have been no witness

Slip

Each lapse easily caps the last

And this man with his indifference

Towards trespass

Stands steadfast

With vivid immunity

Wherever I falter he erects a carousel

Every rush I touch, in turn,

Compels a protrusion to sprout

A grim dim grin

Limp as an unhinged limb….

See, I’ve no resilience to this thing

To call or not to call?

You’ll be thrilled to know, (maybe thrilled is too strong an emotion, seeing as how I am simply font on a screen, but, a girl can dream…) I carried out my first insanely awkward phone call with “Sponse” today. One more task I managed to complete, solely due to my grateful attitude and willingness to turn my life over to a higher power.

I know, I sound like one of those preachy meditation “reading-of-the-day” pages. Roll your eyes all you want…I sure as hell used to. I’ll be honest though, when I was the person busy rolling my eyes, I was also the person who couldn’t fathom how other people were chaining even a couple 24 hour periods of sobriety together. And don’t even try to tell me you had any clean time exceeding 30 days because I knew for a fact that you couldn’t (not if you used like me, anyway).

Anyhoo…I just wanted to share that tidbit. Sponse asked me to call her again tomorrow so now I have another 24 hour period to stress myself out over the next phone call. You know what’s funny – I was never this anxious about calling a complete stranger so that I could cop (for all the normies that translates to: get whatever substance I was looking for).

Curious, isn’t it?? How my disease is so cunning that it even twists a little phone call into an amazingly complicated escapade? It’s no wonder that I need a Sponse around!!

On that note, here’s to another day clean and sober! Cheers! (Inappropriate, funny or both?!)

DLROW

Captivity has taken to me

State time…

I qualified

And you,

You haggard psych

Absently fondle a phantom goatee

What medicine will blunt the

Edges of my mania, Doc?

You speak in potions

I speak in puddles

A muddled distraction of moderation

(What a great suggestion)

I’ll attempt to color the grey area

Without falling in

As you can see – I can spell “world”

Backwards and the people I

Talk to are me

The voices I hear are my own

Unquiet mind;

Torrid flutter

My rage is simple:

You advise me to disclose

With no intention of a cure.

Magic Carpet

It’s an infinite descent

Below the naval

Below the toes

Below the roots

She peers over the crumbling crust

Pieces plummet

Flake and fall

She should let go

Betray the stutter of safety

She falls as though she’s the first card in a

Vegas shuffle

Her faith follows, then, passes her

This wasn’t what she pictured

This was never the plan

It opens as though bursting from a cocoon

Wings spread like petals hungry for the sun

Capture her flailing form