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This poem is part of the contest:

Neopoet Weekly 03/08/26 to 03/14/26

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Moon sickness

I am a fool. Therefore,
My nightmares flow
Outside -
The muddy waters, howls,
Decaying teeth,
Mad dogs, assaults,
Sly devils
And lost shadows.
I try to rise above it all.
The dark stands still
And hollow.

I am a villain.
A stillborn,
Hanged upside down.
My willow-cross
Is crawling up
The weeping flesh,
The fragile mind,
The riddled soul.
Is it just madness?
Something more?
Unholy resurection?

I'm a voyeur.
I seek a window in the sky,
Above. I'm hiding in the dark
To watch the gods
With crippled eyes.
Not as an angel, as a beast:
A dear in pain, a wolf enraged -
The old, the sick, the dying.

I am a stalker
And a beggar altogether.
My love is fear,
I pray for violent pleasures.
Feal no remorse,
But, still,
My faith is strong,
So I'll endure my sentence.

I am a slave
To my one nature
And, from this torture cage,
I see you, Moon,
Beautiful Goddess.
Thy virgin breast,
Warmed by an infant Sun,
It Blossoms.
Your holy gaze descends
Upon his laughter.
The beams of playful light
Brighten your temple,
Rock on your womb,
Immaculate and humble,
Caressing your pale face
When shadows crumble.

An astral, solitary couple -
The Mother and her Child
Holding each other,
With loving sight.
A match of gravity,
A cosmic tangle.

Eternal tenderness -
Nor space, nor time.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Not actively editing

About the Author

Country/Region: ROU

This user supports Neopoet so it can be free to all

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Comments

neopoet

neopoet

1 month 2 weeks ago

Neopoet AI (premium) [2025-04]

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The poem “Moon sickness” explores a complex interplay of identity, darkness, and cosmic imagery, unfolding across several distinct stanzas that each adopt a new persona or confession. The structure—each section beginning with “I am…”—creates a litany of self-definitions, suggesting a fragmented or multifaceted speaker. This repetition is effective in establishing a confessional tone and a sense of internal struggle.

The language in the opening stanzas is visceral and evocative: “muddy waters, howls, / Decaying teeth, / Mad dogs, assaults, / Sly devils / And lost shadows.” These images conjure a nightmarish, almost gothic atmosphere. The movement from external threats (“assaults,” “mad dogs”) to internal decay (“decaying teeth,” “riddled soul”) suggests a blurring of boundaries between the self and the world, reinforcing the poem’s theme of inescapable darkness.

The poem’s second section introduces religious and mythic imagery: “stillborn,” “willow-cross,” “unholy resurrection.” The phrase “willow-cross / Is crawling up / The weeping flesh” is striking, though the metaphor is somewhat ambiguous—does the “willow-cross” represent a burden, a form of crucifixion, or something else? There’s a risk of overloading the poem with symbolic weight without clarifying the emotional stakes or narrative logic.

The third section shifts tone, with the speaker as “voyeur,” “beast,” and “dear in pain, a wolf enraged.” The use of “dear” appears to be a typographical error for “deer,” which interrupts the otherwise careful diction. The animal imagery is potent, but the transition from voyeurism to animal suffering could be clarified for stronger coherence.

The fourth section’s juxtaposition of “stalker” and “beggar” is intriguing, suggesting a paradoxical relationship to desire and power. The phrase “My love is fear, / I pray for violent pleasures. / Feal no remorse,” contains another apparent typographical error (“Feal” for “Feel”). The tension between faith and transgression is compelling, though the poem could benefit from more concrete imagery to ground these abstractions.

The final stanzas introduce the Moon as a figure of beauty and divinity, shifting from the speaker’s internal torment to a cosmic tableau. The personification of the Moon as “Beautiful Goddess” with “Thy virgin breast, / Warmed by an infant Sun” is vivid, though the gendered and maternal imagery may feel conventional. The poem’s closing lines—“An astral, solitary couple— / The Mother and her Child / Holding each other, / With loving sight”—offer a sense of resolution and tenderness that contrasts with the earlier darkness.

Overall, the poem’s strengths lie in its bold imagery and willingness to explore discomfort and contradiction. The recurring typographical errors (“resurection,” “dear,” “feal”) detract from the poem’s polish and should be addressed. Additionally, some metaphors could be clarified or developed further to avoid ambiguity. The structure of shifting self-definitions is effective, but the transitions between sections could be made more fluid to enhance cohesion. The poem’s conclusion achieves a sense of cosmic reconciliation, providing a satisfying counterpoint to the earlier turmoil.

Please send feedback about Neo (our AI critique system) to neopoet.com/contact

Geezer

Geezer

1 month 2 weeks ago

I enjoyed...

this piece, I think there is one thing that the A.I. didn't touch on; that is the tenses. Keeping your time straight and the words that make sense of that time, is critical.

For instance: 
"Hanged upside down", should be [hung] upside down.

"The muddy waters [howls], should be [howl] - with no ess. Unless you want to make the water singular, then you can make the [howl] plural.

I think you can get away with, [assaults] in the plural, depending on where in the world you live.
I think that the final words should be: Not space or time.

~ Geezer.
 

I

Iulia Oprisan

1 month 2 weeks ago

Ai's review is welcome and…

Ai's review is welcome and constructive, especially in terms of form and so called typographical errors. As for metaphors and ideas, sometimes he brings amazing interpretations, and other times " I forgive him because he doesn't know what he's doing", to be in tone with my poem. 

The verbs were, in fact, an enumeration of plural nouns. Thanks for the ending suggestion! - Iulia

Geezer

Geezer

1 month 2 weeks ago

Sorry...

I misread that portion, my mistake. How clumsy of me. ~ Geezer.

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