#1
This piece I wrote today on behalf of one of my dearest friends, who committed suicide today. I really needed a release, and sharing it makes it seem somewhat worthwhile. Mods, if you need to lock this, please just tell me so I can delete it, I'll be on all night. I'm in a bit of a daze right now.


As the fragile, innocent boy wanders down
streets running thick with masked insecurity,
he wonders what the pretty ladies are doing just standing there
his mind not yet plastered with ideas of,
sick fantasies and willful nymphomania
he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.

The boy returns home untarnished
And unphased by the day’s events,
Only to step into a whirlwind of
Raving emotion and misplaced anger,
That he covers with long sleeves and bandages
And suddenly the world seems to tint,
The pretty ladies are now whores and sluts
The men are now gangsters and addicts,
And suddenly growing up doesn’t seem
So delightful.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
He makes his way to his sanctuary
Where the wind soothes him,
And the scent of the sea and car exhaust meld
Into a bittersweet cocktail of the suburb,
His eyes following the carefree ripples
Of the shifty water below him,
His mind begins to wander
To a place where the scent of the sea,
Isn’t tainted by the fumes of machines
And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below,
And he jumps.
But his dreams of a perfect world,
Are not realized
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.


C4C, as always.
Quote by Ur all $h1t
I stick stuff in my pee hole.

Gear:

Schecter C-1 Classic
Ibanez S670PB
Stratocaster MIM Standard
Marshall MG30 (its purple )
Dunlop Crybaby Wah
Last edited by Wulphy at Sep 2, 2009,
#2
Quote by Wulphy
This piece I wrote today on behalf of one of my dearest friends, who committed suicide today. I really needed a release, and sharing it makes it seem somewhat worthwhile. Mods, if you need to lock this, please just tell me so I can delete it, I'll be on all night. I'm in a bit of a daze right now.

As the fragile, innocent boy wanders down
streets running thick with masked insecurity,
he wonders what the pretty ladies are doing just standing there
his mind not yet plastered with ideas of,
sick fantasies and willful nymphomania
he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.
Very good.

The boy returns home untarnished
And unphased by the day’s events,
Only to step into a whirlwind of
Raving emotion and misplaced anger,
That he covers with long sleeves and bandages
And suddenly the world seems to tint,
The pretty ladies are now whores and sluts
The men are now gangsters and addicts,
And suddenly growing up doesn’t seem
So delightful.
I love this... as much as one can love a depressing coming of age tale.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
He makes his way to his sanctuary
Where the wind soothes him,
And the scent of the sea and car exhaust meld
Into a bittersweet cocktail of the suburb,
His eyes following the carefree ripples
Of the shifty water below him,
His mind begins to wander.
Not sure why you ended the stanza in the middle of an idea....

To a place where the scent of the sea
Isn’t tainted by the fumes of machines,
And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below,
And he jumps.
But his dreams of a perfect world
Are not realized,
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.


C4C, as always.




Powerful **** dude. It's heavy. And I'm really sorry for you. I can't imagine what this must be like for you.
#3
Quote by Wulphy
This piece I wrote today on behalf of one of my dearest friends, who committed suicide today. I really needed a release, and sharing it makes it seem somewhat worthwhile. Mods, if you need to lock this, please just tell me so I can delete it, I'll be on all night. I'm in a bit of a daze right now.


As the fragile, innocent boy wanders down
streets running thick with masked insecurity,
he wonders what the pretty ladies are doing just standing there love this line
his mind not yet plastered with ideas of,
sick fantasies and willful nymphomania
he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.

The boy returns home untarnished
And unphased by the day’s events,
Only to step into a whirlwind of
Raving emotion and misplaced anger,
That he covers with long sleeves and bandages
And suddenly the world seems to tint,
The pretty ladies are now whores and sluts I know exactly what your
The men are now gangsters and addicts, going for here but would be even better
And suddenly growing up doesn’t see if it was drawn out a bit more
So delightful.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
He makes his way to his sanctuary
Where the wind soothes him,
And the scent of the sea and car exhaust meld
Into a bittersweet cocktail of the suburb, 3 Wonderful lines, maybe my favorite part
His eyes following the carefree ripples
Of the shifty water below him,
His mind begins to wander.

To a place where the scent of the sea I'm not sure if your going for the repitition
Isn’t tainted by the fumes of machines, of scent of the sea, maybe reword
And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below, maybe some dramatic dashes
And he jumps. the ending seemed a bit rushed
But his dreams of a perfect world
Are not realized,
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.


C4C, as always.


Overall, it was good. I'm truly sorry to hear of your friend, but I know it always helps me to cope by expressing things creatively which you certainly have.
Goodness gracious me!
#4
Thank you, my friends. Are there any pieces of yours you would like me to look at?
Quote by Ur all $h1t
I stick stuff in my pee hole.

Gear:

Schecter C-1 Classic
Ibanez S670PB
Stratocaster MIM Standard
Marshall MG30 (its purple )
Dunlop Crybaby Wah
#5
Btw, the title is sick.

And I totally wouldn't mind if you'd look at The Canvas in my sig.
#6
Man, that's seriously terrible. And tragically, it's the reason that this is as good as it is. The only thing I don't like is the transition between the last two stanzas, because you seem to be breaking into a new stanza in the middle of a though, as mamosa said.

Because this is so personal, you shouldn't change a thing about it(except of course for what I just said).

Great work. I didn't give you much of a crit, but if you could take a look at Zimbabwe in my sig it would be great.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
#7
Quote by Ganoosh
Man, that's seriously terrible. And tragically, it's the reason that this is as good as it is. The only thing I don't like is the transition between the last two stanzas, because you seem to be breaking into a new stanza in the middle of a though, as mamosa said.

Because this is so personal, you shouldn't change a thing about it(except of course for what I just said).

Great work. I didn't give you much of a crit, but if you could take a look at Zimbabwe in my sig it would be great.


Thank you

So, what do you think, should I just join the final two stanzas into one big one, or find a better place to break it off?

And checking it out right after dinner
Quote by Ur all $h1t
I stick stuff in my pee hole.

Gear:

Schecter C-1 Classic
Ibanez S670PB
Stratocaster MIM Standard
Marshall MG30 (its purple )
Dunlop Crybaby Wah
#8
Nah, it would work if you just put them together. Or at least put that one thought into the same stanza, whether you move a couple lines up or down.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
#9
I'd say fitting them together works, unless you care that your stanzas would look lopsided
#10
Quote by mamosa
I'd say fitting them together works, unless you care that your stanzas would look lopsided


They were lopsided to begin with, so I don't really care. It was going to be prose in the beginning, but I changed it halfway through. I'm putting this poem in his coffin on Saturday, so I want to get it ready.

I know he can't read it, but I need to leave him something.
Quote by Ur all $h1t
I stick stuff in my pee hole.

Gear:

Schecter C-1 Classic
Ibanez S670PB
Stratocaster MIM Standard
Marshall MG30 (its purple )
Dunlop Crybaby Wah
#11
Quote by Wulphy
They were lopsided to begin with, so I don't really care. It was going to be prose in the beginning, but I changed it halfway through. I'm putting this poem in his coffin on Saturday, so I want to get it ready.

I know he can't read it, but I need to leave him something.


#12
That was beautiful.
And awful.
Given the context, this piece hit me like a ton of bricks.
I can't fault anything in it - it's perfect.
What I will do is point out some of the lines I thought were most powerful:

he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.
This was brilliant, it really drew me in at the end of the first stanza and made me want to just keep on reading.

The pretty ladies are now *****s and sluts
The men are now gangsters and addicts,
And suddenly growing up doesn’t seem
So delightful.
Amazing moment of realisation, especially those last two lines - simple, but seething with impact.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
Great line, great rhyme.

And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Harks back to the first stanza, brilliant.

Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below,
And he jumps.
But his dreams of a perfect world,
Are not realized
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.
This is what makes this piece. This final section is just SO powerful.

As I'm sure you can tell, I love everything about this piece.
My heart goes out to you. I am immensely sorry for your loss.

If you wouldn't mind critting one of mine, could you do Question. ?
It's in my sig.
#13
Damn, man. That's intense. Hope you and everyone else involved are alright.

I agree with Ganoosh. Knowing the story and the motive behind writing this makes it extremely powerful. I"m not gonna crit this right now, cause I'm not awake enough to do it justice, but I'll take another look at it later. Again, I hope you're alright.
Last edited by OverUnderOnward at Sep 2, 2009,
#14
As the fragile, innocent boy wanders down
streets running thick with masked insecurity,
he wonders what the pretty ladies are doing just standing there
his mind not yet plastered with ideas of,
sick fantasies and willful nymphomania
he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.


good. Nothing to find fault with here.


The boy returns home untarnished
And unphased by the day’s events,
Only to step into a whirlwind of
Raving emotion and misplaced anger,
That he covers with long sleeves and bandages
And suddenly the world seems to tint,
The pretty ladies are now whores and sluts
The men are now gangsters and addicts,
And suddenly growing up doesn’t seem
So delightful.

sluts and *****s and gangsters and addicts seems to take away from the mature tone already established... Other than that, wonderful.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
He makes his way to his sanctuary
Where the wind soothes him,
And the scent of the sea and car exhaust meld
Into a bittersweet cocktail of the suburb,
His eyes following the carefree ripples
Of the shifty water below him,
His mind begins to wander
To a place where the scent of the sea,
Isn’t tainted by the fumes of machines
And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below,
And he jumps.
But his dreams of a perfect world,
Are not realized
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.
Very well written stanza. The only thing I might change is the line about pokemon cards. I see where youre going with it, but it didn't work for me.

Overall, you did a fine job. My best friend committed suicide about a year ago, and I've never been able to write something worthy of his memory.

-Jake

Crit for crat?

https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1188079
#15
As the fragile, innocent boy wanders down
streets running thick with masked insecurity,
he wonders what the pretty ladies are doing just standing there
his mind not yet plastered with ideas of,
sick fantasies and willful nymphomania
he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.
This was really good. I liked the subtle rhyme of 'ignore' and 'pure' and also your diction: 'sick fantasies', 'plastered', 'willful nymphomania' all create this image of a decrepit world and an innocent child walking through it. Well done.

The boy returns home untarnished
And unphased by the day’s events,
Only to step into a whirlwind of
Raving emotion and misplaced anger, The transition between innocent and pure child to an angered, confused one is too abrupt. I need some warning or at least a hint to the reason why this change occurs, ya know what I mean?
That he covers with long sleeves and bandages
And suddenly the world seems to tint,
The pretty ladies are now *****s and sluts
The men are now gangsters and addicts, Just a suggestion: maybe change this line to "the men now gangsters, addicts". In my opinion, there's something off in the flow here.
And suddenly growing up doesn’t seem
So delightful.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
He makes his way to his sanctuary
Where the wind soothes him,
And the scent of the sea and car exhaust meld
Into a bittersweet cocktail of the suburb,wow, these six lines were amazing. such vivid, unique imagery. there was a bite to these lines and a unmistakeable tone here. this is was really good
His eyes following the carefree ripples
Of the shifty water below him,
His mind begins to wander maybe an 'and' at the beginning of this line to help the flow?
To a place where the scent of the sea,
Isn’t tainted by the fumes of machinesnice internal rhyme here
And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below,
And he jumps.I think a stanza break here would do wonders
But his dreams of a perfect world,
Are not realized
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.
great, melancholy ending. the last line was painfully beautiful


First off, I'm terribly sorry about what happened to your friend. I've never been through anything like that but I'm honored to have read this and to kinda get a glimpse into your world. The poem itself was beautiful with just a few nitpicky things here and there. I hope you're doing alright.
here, My Dear, here it is
#16
Quote by Wulphy
This piece I wrote today on behalf of one of my dearest friends, who committed suicide today. I really needed a release, and sharing it makes it seem somewhat worthwhile. Mods, if you need to lock this, please just tell me so I can delete it, I'll be on all night. I'm in a bit of a daze right now.


As the fragile, innocent boy wanders down
streets running thick with masked insecurity,
he wonders what the pretty ladies are doing just standing there
his mind not yet plastered with ideas of,
sick fantasies and willful nymphomania
he will one day acknowledge and ignore,
but the world just seems so pure
through the filtered gaze of a child.
I like how well you captured the sweet innocence of the young, untainted mind. Sets the mood very well.

The boy returns home untarnished
And unphased by the day’s events,
Only to step into a whirlwind of
Raving emotion and misplaced anger,
That he covers with long sleeves and bandages
And suddenly the world seems to tint,
The pretty ladies are now whores and sluts
The men are now gangsters and addicts,
And suddenly growing up doesn’t seem
So delightful.
I like the imagery here. I especially like the way you hinted toward self-mutilation, and the way you describe the realization that most people go through during adolescence: that the world isn't so pretty as it used to seem.

Having donned a freshly stained shirt
And woken up his parents for “work”,
He makes his way to his sanctuary
Where the wind soothes him,
And the scent of the sea and car exhaust meld
Into a bittersweet cocktail of the suburb,
His eyes following the carefree ripples
Of the shifty water below him,
His mind begins to wander
To a place where the scent of the sea,
Isn’t tainted by the fumes of machines
And a place where nice ladies are just standing there
And where the men are just trading pokemon cards,
Mind fluttering to a promise of a preacher
He stares into the eloquently smoothed water below,
And he jumps.
But his dreams of a perfect world,
Are not realized
Simply forgotten and replaced,
With nothingness.
Amazing work. I could smell the sea, and see the images of his perfect world as they shattered into nothingness when he jumped.

C4C, as always.


I'm only sorry that such an amazing piece had to come from such a tragedy. Hope you're hanging in there.