lessons

[ritwiksadhu33]

Haven't posted in quite awhile. Thanks for reading. Critique always appreciated.  

At deepest functioning Nice word selection here
she was as chemist. a chemist, possibly

Eliciting substances 
from a level soul
pouring fractionated hazards, 
one into another. Very clever
Cautious. Calculated, 
yet treating her environment as irrelevant. 

The reaction
may very well implode her life. These two sentences seem rather awkward

Yet may create a new formula for being, 
new cures her ego didn't know she needed.

She's pained by self-fulfilling prophecy;
obviously ignorant to alchemy of the soul. Complete sentences, but with patchy grammar. Too many of them.

Her clamoring minds hypothesis 
may be proved wrong. What hypothesis?

She herself causes the chaotic combustion,
producing the finite conditions 
her subconcious knows she needs.

To see, unbiased without presumption.
To learn, to not give her vials away.
Even if 
her basic conclusions are never the same 
and her plans were a waste. 

By this time the whole thing has grown way too convoluted to follow at all, and there's little incentive to do so. Sentences curve and bend until they break. The narrative stretches moments to eternities.

Over and over again
her chemicals will react
until homogeny descends - 
soul allowing mind in. Nice philosophical observation, but once again, just because you can fit any image into your overarching narrative/theme, does not mean you should. Stick to those that actually fit.

The product of learning lifes toughest lessons,
coming to know them well. 
Humbly holding them as something volatile,  but dear.
Finally burning to abstraction 
her extracted ego and fear. Randomly listing causes and effects and expecting the reader to connect them to satisfaction is not a good strategy. At least not at this point for this poem.

She observes with shame at her side
thankfully, now apart from her souls pulling tide. soul's
Only then can she be taught 
what she needed to learn the most

and lend a moment of accomplishment
to her ever conspiring soul. 
  

Overall I think this stretches a novel idea far beyond its breaking point. The convoluted, over-long sentences do not make the poem any easier to read. My advice would be to reduce it to something a reader can actually follow, not just stumble through. There are some clever plays and paragraphs, but they are few and far between, making this a very tiring read, at least for me. This contains the kernel of what could be a good poem, but needs far more brevity.