Miasman man

[Mungo man]

Miasmatic drops of blood fall,
coalesce, and streak away in rivulets.
Painting pictures of my past.
Depicted for blurred eyes to see,
oblivion revealed to me.

Watercolor doorways to the future
never open to the scene you long to see.
At least... Not for me.
Perhaps your tableau is encouraging,
full of neon colors and masterful strokes.
Perhaps your life is meaningless;
nothing more than it means to you.
I don't blame you;
I've been there too.

But light always shines through
cracks in our shells, we
can remember the good times
The bad.
All the things we could have had...
But also everything we've done to date,
how great it feels to begin
to Try
to understand yourself.
and to be okay with beauty in your world.
Perhaps there is beauty to be found
in the slums you envision your life.
There is always the inspiration to change
just beyond the belief you have in yourself.

Face down in a pool of shimmering, mercuric liquid,
opiated daydreams have paralyzed him.
Soon he'll wake up shivering.
oh well.
Just another day.

But the reprieve is short lived,
the feelings of despair, pain...
Too alive. The rules change.
When your lost in this miasmic sea
you wash the blood off of your face
and keep the small rules
so you can break the big ones.

[rowens]

The last two lines might have something. The rest of it is wordy and sloppy. Have you went over it anymore since you posted it?

[heslopian]

I feel like this poem needs more specificity of image, theme and voice. There's a certain elegance of expression, but it doesn't add up to anything other than disconnected thoughts drifting through a senseless narrative. I hope that I'm not being too harsh. There's promise here - you clearly have an idea and an interesting approach - you just need to clarify, clarify, clarify

[billy]

i stopped my feedback because it's pretty much saying the same thing.
it's pretty wordy and lots could be removed without affecting the poem. it says a lot but at the end the reader is left wondering what the poem was about except for a few vagaries where the reader can add something from their own experiences. in general it a very generalised poem that needs to be more concrete. it needs something of substance to for the reader to grasp

thanks for the read.

Miasmatic drops of blood fall,for me miasmatic blood would already have clotted enough not to fall, though i suppose it can in a metaphoric sense.
coalesce, and streak away in rivulets.
Painting pictures of my past.
Depicted for blurred eyes to see,
oblivion revealed to me. i'm not sure what the last 3 lines infer, okay, the last 2 lines, if i see the blood as some kind of failure.

Watercolor doorways to the future
never open to the scene you long to see. i like the opening of this stanza. it opens up a scene of something unreachable
At least... Not for me. isn't this line a given? it would be more of a given if you use[I] instead of [you] on the previous line
Perhaps your tableau is encouraging,
full of neon colors and masterful strokes.
Perhaps your life is meaningless; [or] could replace [Perhaps your life is] in order to make it less wordy, or it could just replace [perhaps] and [is]
nothing more than it means to you. i don't get this line
I don't blame you; why would you blame them? have they been naughty? if not, this line isn't really needed.
I've been there too. where?

But light always shines through
cracks in our shells, we
can remember the good times
The bad.
All the things we could have had...
But also everything we've done to date,
how great it feels to begin
to Try
to understand yourself.
and to be okay with beauty in your world.
Perhaps there is beauty to be found
in the slums you envision your life.
There is always the inspiration to change
just beyond the belief you have in yourself.

Face down in a pool of shimmering, mercuric liquid,
opiated daydreams have paralyzed him.
Soon he'll wake up shivering.
oh well.
Just another day.

But the reprieve is short lived,
the feelings of despair, pain...
Too alive. The rules change.
When your lost in this miasmic sea
you wash the blood off of your face
and keep the small rules
so you can break the big ones.

[ChristopherSea]

There are some intriguing images and color herein. I like the word miasma, but its over repetition and modification to miasman, miasmatic, miasmic, etc. has it leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Some de-miasma-tizing is recommended. Maybe restrict it to the title alone. In fact, some brevity and clearer syntax throughout would benefit the entire piece. For example, in the first line, the blood, drops, falls, coalesces, streaks, rivulets. Again here: 'pool of shimmering, mercuric liquid' is simply 'mercury'. In fact, mercury (Hg) is already a liquid in the pure metal form. The salt and compound forms are mercuric (e.g. mercuric sulfate HgSO4, mercuric oxide HgO2, etc). There are mercurous compounds as well. I hope something here helps with your next edit. Cheers/Chris

[makeshift]

Miasmatic drops of blood fall, "Mismatic" thats a cool word
coalesce, and streak away in rivulets. Interesting words here also "rivulets" "coalesce"
Painting pictures of my past.
Depicted for blurred eyes to see,
oblivion revealed to me. This line kinda ruins the first stanza for me. Oblivion is such a big word that it feels kinda trite unless its used especially poignantly imo imo, not sure if that makes sense but essentially this line makes me think of fantasy games like Dungeons n Dragons, or Elder Scrolls: Oblivion. That and the rhyming takes some of the seriousness away from it for me.

Watercolor doorways to the future I like that watercolor fits with the imagery of "blurred eyes" and "drops of blood"
never open to the scene you long to see.
At least... Not for me. Not sure this line adds anything maybe replace "you" in the previous line with "I"
Perhaps your tableau is encouraging,
full of neon colors and masterful strokes.
Perhaps your life is meaningless;
nothing more than it means to you.
I don't blame you;
I've been there too. I feel like these last four lines could be condensed

But light always shines through
cracks in our shells, we
can remember the good times
The bad.
All the things we could have had...
But also everything we've done to date,
how great it feels to begin
to Try
to understand yourself.
and to be okay with beauty in your world.
Perhaps there is beauty to be found
in the slums you envision your life.
There is always the inspiration to change
just beyond the belief you have in yourself.

Face down in a pool of shimmering, mercuric liquid,
opiated daydreams have paralyzed him.
Soon he'll wake up shivering.
oh well.
Just another day.

But the reprieve is short lived,
the feelings of despair, pain...
Too alive. The rules change.
When your lost in this miasmic sea
you wash the blood off of your face
and keep the small rules
so you can break the big ones.

Some interesting words here. I like the imagery in a lot of places with different liquids goin on. At times it felt a bit preachy:

"how great it feels to begin
to Try
to understand yourself.
and to be okay with beauty in your world.".

I think your images are more effective at conveying ideas then your bits like the quoted above. I like your message, the poem feels really positive at times despite some of the darker images, kinda Baroque feeling. My general advice would to reduce the poem to the essentials then tastefully add more to expand on ur ideas for a more stream lined poem. Thnx for sharing. JMHO JMHO ^_^