would you critique my poem (its my first)?

A

Alan Wilson

New member
Again it falls...
Descending, as the mighty gavel of justice
Ever present and wholly fearsome
Yet curiously soothing; strangely trusted.

As the unmistakable sensations embrace,
the tingling chill, the glassy dew,
I halt, amidst the chaos, to reflect
And do bear witness to hope.

For as the masses disperse like ants
To find their eternal elusive ease,
Through the clutter of mystic turmoil
My gaze falls to a lone marine.

Through the shower that threatens and nips,
Across the muck he strolls
And though the mobs run hunched and scared,
This man takes all in stride.

With a head held high,
Arms firmly at side,
An air he does possess
Of a vigor so fierce
And a mettle of awe
Yet none give due respect.
 
Pretty good for a start, to say the least. Although I do suggest working on descriptions so the imagery would pop out more vividly.

Like the following poem from Pablo Naruda entitled The Fable of the Mermaids and the Drunk (Originally in Spanish. I like this version best)

All these fellows were there inside
when she entered, utterly naked.
They had been drinking, and began to spit at her.
Recently come from the river, she understood nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The taunts flowed over her glistening flesh.
Obscenities drenched her golden breasts.
A stranger to tears, she did not weep.
A stranger to clothes, she did not dress.
They pocked her with cigarette ends and with burnt corks,
and rolled on the tavern floor in raucous laughter.
She did not speak, since speech was unknown to her.
Her eyes were the color of faraway love,
her arms were matching topazes.
Her lips moved soundlessly in coral light,
and ultimately, she left by that door.
Hardly had she entered the river than she was cleansed,
gleaming once more like a white stone in the rain;
and without a backward look, she swam once more,
swam toward nothingness, swam to her dying.
 
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