#1
HELLO GOOD PEOPLE.
I was bored so I took a shot at somewhat of a short-story/poem hybrid.
I will C4C If you leave links or tell me what piece, and I will do that the next time I get online.

Woodchips and Playgrounds

I don’t think crying can explain what just happened
The tears would create mud
And you can’t bury your love in mud
That’s not habitual
Listen to the melted bells clang
That speaks volumes about this day
Decibels like pages in a short story by Poe
I feel light, and never to be the same

My Boutonnière,
Red flower, scarlet perhaps
Quiet so that it was guilty of puritan plagiarism
I feel bad for Hester, this was tacky
My Hair,
Long overdue cut to perfection
Barber shop off the boat Italians
Telling me, it’s a good day, maybe,
Without all of that hair you’ll finally be able to see it

Coax my limo driver into speeding
Not late, so much as, anxious
It is Christmas time by the way
Carolers out and about,
Hollering at people like KGB-superlatives
Harsh? I don’t like unwanted noise
Tis’ the season

I am burnt pretty badly by all of this
Last I remember is flat on a stretcher
Crying eyes of pop,
Not mine, hers,
Drunken loons shouldn’t be allowed near candles
Ever.

Missing you is too cliché to state,
I still remember our first fight
You pushed me into the woodchips at school
They’re suppose to help cushion the fall, not so much
And when the Drunkard buffoon comes waltzing in with an apology,
That to me is the definition of playground-irony
I cliché you. Truly, I do.


WoTW! THANK YOU!
this one is for you.
Last edited by Ebshabutiee at Dec 14, 2008,
#2


I don’t think crying can explain what just happened
The tears would create mud
And you can’t bury your love in mud
That’s not habitual
Listen to the melted bells clang
That speaks volumes about this day
Decibels like pages in a short story by Poe
I feel light, and never to be the same

Wham, bam, thank you ma'am and good night. Way to get started with all guns blazing. So many good lines here. "you can't bury your love in mud" (love the double internal half-rhymes), "Decibels like pages in a short story by Poe" (this line even more amazing because i love Poe). In fact, **** it, this whole stanza just blew me away

My Boutonnière,
Red flower, scarlet perhaps
Quiet so that it was guilty of puritan plagiarism
I feel bad for Hester, this was tacky
My Hair,
Long overdue cut to perfection
Barber shop off the boat Italians
Telling me, it’s a good day, maybe,
Without all of that hair you’ll finally be able to see it

this whole stanza whizzes by in a blur and its really difficult to get your teeth into anything. i feel like i'm in the middle of a tornado. But something tells me that's what you're after.

Coax my limo driver into speeding
Not late, so much as, anxious
It is Christmas time by the way
Carolers out and about,
Hollering at people like KGB-superlatives
Harsh? I don’t like unwanted noise
Tis’ the season

hmmm, still good, but not as strong. The lyrical quality is gone for a more hard-hitting, honest approach. The end is better than the first half

I am burnt pretty badly by all of this
Last I remember is flat on a stretcher
Crying eyes of pop,
Not mine, hers,
Drunken loons shouldn’t be allowed near candles
Ever.

lots me a bit here, had to read it a few times before i could grasp this. Whoo. Strong stuff, this. The flow and rhythm is ridiculous(ly good)

Missing you is too cliché to state,
I still remember our first fight
You pushed me into the woodchips at school
They’re suppose to help cushion the fall, not so much
And when the Drunkard bafoon comes waltzing in with an apology,
That to me is the definition of playground-irony
I cliché you. Truly, I do.


Haha, a ncie touch of warm humour and biting cynicism to end with. Well done



An absolutely riveting read that grabs you from the start and propels you to the end. Unfortunately, it seems to lose momentum as it goes on. After such a hard hiting, mind-blowing start, that pace really needs to be kept. THe end sort of fizzled a bit. Not much, but just enough to make me not like this as amuch as i should. Hope i helped
#3
Kyle got what I would have said, so I won't do a full crit, so just one thing:
bafoon, spelled buffoon.
#5
I'll only be repeating kdownes if I crit this
But I loved it!
My current acoustic group:

Fiftieth Parallel

Martin Guitars
Elixer Strings
Acoustic amplification
BOSS pedals

#6
Thanks all who posted so far,
I understand it is kind of Good start, ok middle, than good ending. That is a problem I get with most of my pieces, and that I am currently trying to work around.
The thing about this piece though, Is I think I could expand on the story with other poems, almost like a miniseries of poems. Also thanks for the spelling fix ginjaninja.
this one is for you.
#7
that had nothing to do with woodchips

i was hoping someone shared the hate for woodchips with me
overall, it was good. your really good