Cycle of flesh

[billy]

hi jessice, thanks for the feedback left in the newly registered forum, only replies to poetry in the three main poetry forums outside this forum will count towards you being allowed to post in those threads. (just a heads up.)

the poem.
watch out for cliche, phrase used many times over already. softness of my lips aka as soft lips etc has been used many times already. while the latter part of the line is or reads as original the lips part weakens it. a suggestion is to turn lips into something you want to represent them, in this instance you go from young (soft) to old (hard) a suggestion would be something like:
When the spring of my lips grows hard and dry

also watch out for excessive word use (baggage)

When the softness of my lips grow hard and dry

the wet tongue in my mouth lay still with stiffness

My toes curled in permanence my fingers tangled

my hair brittle and without shine

also try and lay the piece down so it doesn't need punctuation if you're intent on not using it
My toes curled in permanence my fingers tangled  [permanence, my]

i think you have some really good lines in the poem with strong images,  (I've pointed out a few below)


i do think you have the main part of a really good piece of poetry here.
not sure the last stanza adds anything to the poem but with a fairly small edit and a bit of resolve you could lift this more than a level or so.

welcome to the site.

When the softness of my lips grow hard and dry
When the wet tongue in my mouth lay still with stiffness
My toes curled in permanence my fingers tangled
When my hair brittle and without shine

Warmth leaves and feeling with it
skin flakes away like cigarette stained paper for me this is excellent, though i wonder if it were something more to do with ash than paper.
the memory in photographs, memory of me
whiteness of teeth, years and use made darkened
like missing bricks and falling bridges this is different than the old tombstone teeth and works all the better for it. it good to see poets trying to evade using cliched phrases.

the soft memory of mothers joy
skin anew and bright eyes
tiny hands and perfect curls
new and fresh warm and perfect

puckered creases of time across face
spots of life on hands and arms
sunken eyes sitting by hanging skin
like tire grooves sunken in brick roads

let us all begin again
make it true the endlessness
hope renewed cycle of flesh
reason for thought and loneliness