#1
celine and cecilia's recounting of the war:
we lived in france, until the
big boomers came, not much of a sight
from in a basement,
something about big men
in big boats with their big guns
storming the normandy coast,
such small girls had no
concept of dubbya eyy arrr, so it was
exciting
and challenging, we huddled close until
they found us. they spoke funny
and didn't wait for us to get ready
to leave.

Major Gregory T. Olfactor's recounting of the war:
we slept on rocks
we ate rocks, and we bled rocks. such tremendous
stones we held, and moved. They stood a chance when
we were men of grain and wheat, but the
machines we built and the people we've crushed
have made us men of morality, men of
responsibility. An American traveled with my
platoon, he was meek and watched two
little girls be shot after the Normandy storm.

Wisława Sienkiewicz's Recount of the war:
I was a prostitute in Poland before the Germans
came, they were a giant battering ram, inserted directly
with many
white men/blonde hair and tongues tied with
drooling guns. saliva full of lisping love, or
backwards instigation. I hid in their beds, and slept with
their morals. they treated me like I was less than them,
perhaps I was?

Erik Abramowicz's recount of the war:
When I turned sixteen I had my first kiss
with a German girl. Her name wasn't
important, just that I was jewish. When
the war started everyone was worried about
their future, I wasn't. When my parents were
shot, I didn't care. When my grandpa shot
my grandma and was whisked away by
the nazis before he could shoot himself, I didn't
care. But when my first kiss told the
nazi gestapo where i was hiding, I cared.
I traveled with my grandpa to Treblinka, a
camp in Poland. we were stayed until a
young american man traveling with
a british platoon saved us.

Jürgen Kweiller's account of the war:
I was part of the nazi infantry, not a good man
by the world's standards, but i didn't fight for
the world. well, in the beginning that is, i fight
for my own life now. my own morality. one morning
i woke up, next to my party raping a young polish
prostitute. I killed them all, then killed the rest of my party
including the panzer operator. I rode alone in the
frozen wasteland of germany, traveling towards Triblinka,
where my wife was being held.
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Last edited by Something_Vague at Dec 5, 2008,
#3
more people should have read and posted on your last one too because that was also awesome.

I loved this. your broken narrative here was perfect and kept me interested and with you through the whole piece. Just damn cool.
#4
Finally, something of yours i can read and fully grasp without feely like my brain just melted out of my eyes. This is fantastic.
#5
I did read your last piece, just did not have much to comment on. Same here. I love the interconnection. You're really good at this writing thing.
#6
Erik Abramowicz recount of the war:
When I turned sixteen I had my first kiss
with a German girl. Her name wasn't
important, just that I was jewish was. When


doesn't work.
That was great. You're pretty versatile. I loved this.
#7
this won't stay up for long, i plan on deleting it after the comments stop, it's an idea for something possibly bigger. most likely a short story but hopefully a novel.
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#8
celine and cecilia's recounting of the war:
we lived in france, until the
big boomers came, not much of a sight
from in a basement,
something about big men
in big boats with their big guns
storming the normandy coast, we
were little girls and well, had no
concept of dubbya eyy arrr, so it was
exciting
and challenging, we huddled close until
they found us. they spoke funny
and didn't wait for us to get ready
to leave.
Perfect. I especially enjoyed how it was just a gigantic run-on, with nothing (including the names) capitalized, indicated that you're referring to two little girls here. Well done.

Actually, now that I think about it, I wish you wouldn't say "we were little girls". That's bogus, bro. Let the reader figure it out.


Major Gregory T. Olfactor's recounting of the war:
we slept on rocks
Awkward line break.
we ate rocks, and we bled rocks. such tremendous
stones we held, and moved. they stood a chance when
we were men of grain and wheat, but the
machines we built and the people we've crushed
have made us men of morality, men of
responsibility. an american traveled with my
platoon, he was meek and watched two
little girls be shot after the normandy storm.
"Two little girls be shot" was weak, mostly because "be" was weak. Actually, only because of that, because the parallelism and general idea of this was ****ing awesome. I almost feel as if you should capitalize American and Normandy here to give it a more officious feeling though, making the contrast with the first stanza even stronger.

Wisława Sienkiewicz's Recount of the war:
I was a prostitute in poland before the germans
came, a giant battering ram, inserted directly many
white men, with blonde hair and tongues tied with
drooling guns. saliva full of lisping love, or
backwards instigation. I hid in their beds, and slept with
their morals. they treated me like i were less than them
perhaps I was?
Put a period or comma after "them" in the penultimate line and I mean this would be absolutely ****ing perfect. Loved the giant battering ram -- nice phallic symbol.

Erik Abramowicz recount of the war:
Abramowicz's, you mean.
When I turned sixteen I had my first kiss
with a German girl. Her name wasn't
important, just that I was jewish was. When
Capitalize "Jewish" if you intend on keeping it. "just my religion was" or something vague like that would be stronger in my opinion, though.
the war started everyone was worried about
their future, I wasn't. when my parents were
shot, i didn't care. when my grandpa shot
Man, you started with all of this capitalized, and it gave a nice, more mature feeling to this section, and then you stopped. Have some consistency, you lazy ass.
my grandma and was wisked away by
Whisked.
the nazis before he could shoot himself, i didn't
care. but when my first kiss told the
nazi gestapo where i was hiding, i cared.
Dude. This was a great play on that famous poem I can't remember the author or title of, but seriously, good job. Nice allusion.
i traveled with my grandpa to Treblinka, a
camp in poland. we were stayed until a
young american man traveling with
a british platoon saved us.
Tying it all together nicely again. Wonderful.

Jürgen Kweiller's account of the war:
I was part of the nazi infantry, not a good man
by the world's standards, but i didn't fight for
the world. well, in the beginning that is, i fight
for my own life now. my own morality. one morning
i woke up, next to my party raping a young polish
prostitute. I killed them all, then killed the rest of my party
including the panzer operator. I rode alone in the
frozen wasteland of germany, traveling towards Triblinka,
where my wife was being held.
Cool.

I absolutely loved this. I feel if you would've taken some time to allow the structure to draw clearer contrasts it would've been even stronger though. I understand that you're a lazy Jew though, so I forgive you.

xoxoxo
#9
You never cease to amaze.
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

#11
Fourth verse is great. The first verse had odd line breaks and made it difficult to read, and therefore difficult to become accustomed to.
I'm not as keen on this as I normally would be. But, just because I think you're an awesome writer, it doesn't mean I'm going to like everything you write to bits, that would be sad.
Yes, the more and more I read this, the more I love I the second verse onwards. The first one just doens't click with me, I'm afraid. I feel like I'm missing something special.
I don't have anything to add in terms of nit-picks. I don't feel it's necessary.
Goof work.

Digitally Clean
#12
like corey said the first verse is written oddly as it is from the perspective of two french girls, as opposed to the rest of the piece which is in the perspective of adults. it's not important just something i did mostly subconsciously.

like i said, this will be something bigger, but what of i'm not sure.
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#13
I don't see how you can possibly make this bigger, to be honest. But I'm not you, I'm not seeing this from the same eyes that you are.
I did like the first verse, but I just didn't get the same images as I did concerning the rest of the piece, even though there is still a clear relation to languages and minorities in a country or region.
I would be interested to see what else you could do with this...
#14
Quote by Something_Vague
like corey said the first verse is written oddly as it is from the perspective of two french girls, as opposed to the rest of the piece which is in the perspective of adults. it's not important just something i did mostly subconsciously.

like i said, this will be something bigger, but what of i'm not sure.


I love it even more with the revisions.

I say it should be part of something bigger, such as a compilation of poetry and short stories written by Matt Erman 2005-2008.
#15
Hic pars lectum erant magnum
Vivamus mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
rumoresque senum seueriorum
omnes unius aestimemus assis!
#16
Quote by SilenceEvolves
I love it even more with the revisions.

I say it should be part of something bigger, such as a compilation of poetry and short stories written by Matt Erman 2005-2008.


i'm self publishing a book of short stories, and i might turn this into either a long short story or a novella i've decided. writing a novel just isn't in the cards for me at the moment.

all my poetry sometimes is a means to get out an idea. i would never want to publish any of my poetry as it is a dead art.
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