#1
c4c and all that. I don't think I'm finished with this yet, rip it up. Oh, but this is only about one person ;o

[font="Book Antiqua"]
[size="1"]It's getting cold now,
and the trembling trees know it.

They cling onto their blood red leaves,
but it won't be long before they too have to go.
The struggling sighs against icy winds have died
and only faint whispers echo in the valley below.

It's getting late now,
and the flocking geese know it.

The panicked beating of desperate wings
a warning to the gods of the forest floor;
streaks of pink shine through the empty sky
as the shivering sun crawls back into the ground.

We're getting lost now,
and my stumbling feet know it.

The moonless night and the misty woods slow us
but the crickets don't pierce your ears and you show it.
I stagger through cracks, snapping jagged twigs back,
fall on the sullen earth,

and begin to dig.[/SIZE][/FONT]
#2
I'm going to edit in a full crit when I get back from school, but just wanted to say that I think this is a lot stronger than your previous pieces from last month. You've taken a pretty much overdone subject and image, and made it your own, which made me enjoy this. I do have a few problems though.


It's getting cold now,
and the trembling trees know it. "It's getting cold now" is a pretty bland way to start it. The following metaphor is strnog though.

They cling onto their blood red leaves,
but it won't be long before they too have to go.
The struggling sighs against icy winds have died
and only faint whispers echo in the valley below. Perfect. Really perfect. Sonics are great, flow is spot on, imagery is strong, content is solid. No complaints.

It's getting late now,
and the flocking geese know it. Actually, seeing that style repeated, I like the first line now. It creates a nice feel.

The panicked beating of desperate wings
a warning to the gods of the forest floor;
streaks of pink shine through the empty sky
as the shivering sun crawls back into the ground. Hmmm, why did you kill the flow and rhyme structure here? Why? THis oculd be so good, and the fact you have repeated the style of the previous stanza made me feel that this should echo S2.

We're getting lost now,
and my stumbling feet know it.

The moonless night and the misty woods slow us
but the crickets don't pierce your ears and you show it.
I stagger through cracks, snapping jagged twigs back,
fall on the sullen earth,

and begin to dig. The ending is stronger, but there's a little bit of a flow issue in the first two lines.
Last edited by kdownes at Aug 10, 2009,
#3
It's getting cold now,
and the trembling trees know it.

Good alliteration, but a fairly average introduction.

They cling onto their blood red leaves,
but it won't be long before they too have to go.
The struggling sighs against icy winds have died
and only faint whispers echo in the valley below.

"Go," "echo," and "below" seemed to rhyme easily, but awkwardly. As in, it's easy to notice, but when you do notice, it reads strangely, particularly the last line. It's as if it has too many syllables.

It's getting late now,
and the flocking geese know it.

The panicked beating of desperate wings
a warning to the gods of the forest floor;
streaks of pink shine through the empty sky
as the shivering sun crawls back into the ground.

The last two lines here stuck with me far more than the first two, just in the pure beauty of the imagery.

We're getting lost now,
and my stumbling feet know it.

This was really clumsily worded, but as it implies that you're acting clumsy here, it kinda works in context.

The moonless night and the misty woods slow us
but the crickets don't pierce your ears and you show it.
I stagger through cracks, snapping jagged twigs back,
fall on the sullen earth,

and begin to dig.

I don't like how it ended, just because it's rather anticlimactic. And staggering through the cracks? Meh. But the imagery here is still excellent. "Show it" and "slow us" went together well for me at first, but then I went over it, and realized "it" and "us" was what threw me off.

Despite sounding harsh, I really did like this piece. Much more than your recent pieces in fact. It has a loose but vivid sense of direction, and although it seems a bit...I don't know, overdone?...it still struck a nice chord with me.

If you could give me an idea on what to elaborate upon with my piece "Stars," I would really appreciate it. People seem to love the ending, but think the beginning stinks, and I'd really like to improve it.
#4
Quote by michal23

streaks of pink shine through the empty sky
as the shivering sun crawls back into the ground.



This part is excellent. I can really picture it the way you describe it and it makes me remember similar evenings. I like the fact that the sun is "crawling into the ground" as well. It gives a feeling of hesitation or perhaps unwillingness to accept the inevitable.

I do feel like I was expecting something else at the end. It sort of ends before I'm ready for it to be over, as if there should be some sort of lesson learned or observation made about everything that has been observed throughout the song.
Andy Fox
Hard rock guitarist
I play a Jackson DK-2 and an Ibanez RG through a Peavey 6505+ stack
#5
It's getting cold now,
I love this opening. It is so morose and degenerated.
and the trembling trees know it.
Opposite to what Kyle said, I don't like this. "trembling trees" is so boringly clichéd, and totally contradicts the voice of the initial line.

They cling onto their blood red leaves,
but it won't be long before they too have to go.
The struggling sighs against icy winds have died
Once again, I'm not mega keen on the alliteration. I don't quite notice it's significance. It feels tacked on and overly intentional. The rest seems lovely and flowed well.

and only faint whispers echo in the valley below.
I really feel you need to branch out a bit with your imagery and terminology. It's not that it's bad – far from it – but I'm finding myself reading something that has been read a hundred times before. I therefore fail to receive a sense of you as an individual, expressing deep and dark thoughts. Using faint, distant and fairy-like clichés sometimes serve a purpose, but I don't see how it fits in this instance. It's like you are being snug and safe because it's "easier" on you, and because you may of read all those famous and oh so wonderful writers/poets doing likewise.


It's getting late now,
and the flocking geese know it.
I really would of loved to see simplicity in this, to stick to the opening line of this stanza, and also the first one. I really wasn't fond of the second line here. You're transporting yourself from lacklustre, beautifully dispiriting writing, to epic, overheated poetry. What's poetry without the ability to remain in the dullest moments of writing and emotion, and still be entertaining yourself and your readers?


The panicked beating of desperate wings
a warning to the gods of the forest floor;
streaks of pink shine through the empty sky
as the shivering sun crawls back into the ground.
"shivering sun" was the only bit I didn't love. Even that was acceptable. I felt okay with this section as you stuck to a repeating voice – even if it wasn't the voice I was looking for – and the imagery flowed seamlessly together.

We're getting lost now,
and my stumbling feet know it.
Again, ugh to the second line.

The moonless night and the misty woods slow us
"misty" is saying too much, whilst still fairy-esque and clingy. "moonless" was perfect. It spoke enough without being too obtrusive and obvious.

but the crickets don't pierce your ears and you show it.
I stagger through cracks, snapping jagged twigs back,
"back" and "cracks" were congenial.

fall on the sullen earth,

and begin to dig.
Great ending.

This deserved less than you've given it. Hold back on bringing out poetry, and just tell me a story; how you're feeling on something. Alliteration, rhyming, assonance, they're all well and good if they happen naturally, but they didn't feel that way for me.