Biding time

[tectak]

1st edit
Hi Cider,
Above all others who post to serious, including serge god bless him, I cry an inward tear when I note how "lossy" your work becomes because of some inner compulsion to make random line breaks. Your concepts and word choices more than warrant respect, both from the reader AND from you. I cannot reconcile the thinking which leads to the very first line breaking on ...."life". It is just incongruous to me. My failing, you may say. Fine.....but what a waste. Your poem.
Very Best,
tectak

Biding time.

Sellotaped into your shape; your sticky, lifeWhy oh why?

Sellotaped into your shape;
your sticky, life masking rape
of every breath and hope.

masking rape of every breath and hope.Not sure about this as a sentence...but as a collection of words happy in each other's company, it works.
You suffocate me with layered opinions,
rye bread sandwiches of laminated stiffness.Respect.
In less harsh climes an unformed mind can climb...but precedent set, you carry on. I am just so enamoured with the word choice that I want to forgive the line breaks...and so I walk through your poem on uneven ground, constantly checking where you and I put our feet, just to avoid a stumble. I should not need to do this.
and reach the rarefied summits of free-formed thought,Getting too wordy and overhanging and jutting its confounded base! Top heavy. Again, better line breaks would help. Enough on this subject. Onwards and upwards.
but your pre-formed designs, with inbuilt anti-organicfree-formed, pre-formed...pruning is definitely required. Hyphenated words are often a sop to the lazy muse. I'm not saying that this is the case here...but I am not saying it's not, either.
growth inhibitors, seal and lock out any unbidden
breath of originality not invented on this roll.Hmmm. Not an easy translation on first read BUT only because of the "...not invented on this roll" line.ON this roll? Well, yes, I can see where this is leading.(I read stuff at least five times before critting to avoid making a fool of myself. I can see the final metaphor rising...er...proving)

I am that air bubble that will not burst.
I am the crease beneath your nail that will not slide out.
Try as you might to eradicate me – I’ll just smile and wait
for a warm wind to expand my territory and for your sticky,
clingy form to grow brittle with age.This is really a very nice stanza and I like it for many reasons. Try to lose the second sticky, though.
Then I will crack your shiny surface, into which air and water
and bread crumbs will creep and undermine your synthetic sheets
with viral non-conforming thoughts.
And you will be soft like grape must beneath my feet.If this was an attempt to rein in a stallion of a metaphor I don't think it quite manages it. It got a bit wild towards the end.


Original post.
Biding time.

Sellotaped into your shape; your sticky, life
masking rape of every breath and hope.
You suffocate me with layered opinions,
rye bread sandwiches of laminated stiffness.
In less harsh climes an unformed mind can climb
and reach the rarefied summits of free-formed thought,
but your pre-formed designs, with inbuilt anti-organic
growth inhibitors, seal and lock out any unbidden
breath of originality not invented on this roll.

I am that air bubble that will not burst.
I am the crease beneath your nail that will not slide out.
Try as you might to eradicate me – I’ll just smile and wait
for a warm wind to expand my territory and for your sticky,
clingy form to grow brittle with age.
Then I will crack your shiny surface, into which air and water
and nutrients will creep and undermine your synthetic sheets
with viral non-conforming thoughts.
And you will be soft like putty beneath my feet.