#1
i turned the radio on to hear static
intermittedly interrupted
with patches of a news broadcast.
the outside world was coming in and out
and for the longest time,
i had been twisting the dial to find the right frequency.
but this was the best the world was giving me,
just an irritating buzz
mixed surreptitiously with words and phrases
of how the world turns.
through the haziness i heard a man,
in a voice ripe and bold,
telling me of "a fifteen year-old girl",
"walking home from a friend's house",
"never saw him coming",
"concentration of .18",
"mother is devastated",
"she got straight As"
,
the last voice was a woman sobbing.
it continued crackling,
while my heart started throbbing,
wanting so desperately to say sorry
to the lady crying in between the static.

hearing the pain in her voice makes me think,
maybe i'm ready for a world beyond this room.
but as soon as i begin to make my move,
the static resumes and i resign to the feeling
that i'm too comfortable within these walls
with my feet planted to the floor
and my ears peeled
waiting for the man's voice to tell me more.
because when a mother's tears fall on her child's grave
mixing anonymously with a cold, derelict rain,
i would much rather have my heart break
in solitude.


and these frequencies may never align,
leaving me to let the world turn and turn
without raising my voice,
letting it know that how it turns is some of my concern.
but so long as there remains static in my radio,
so too will there remain stasis in me.
here, My Dear, here it is
Last edited by SubwayToVenus at Sep 12, 2009,
#2
Quote by SubwayToVenus
armed with arcane wisdom,
i turned the radio on to hear static,
intermittedly interrupted
with patches of a news broadcast.
I was really excited by the first line, and I felt a huge deflation of energy here.
the outside world was coming in and out
and for the longest time,
i had been twisting the dial to find the right frequency.
this was the best the world was giving me,
just an irritating buzz
mixed surreptitiously with words and phrases
of what the world does.
I dislike this rhyme. A lot. "of what the world does" is just an ugh phrase.
through the haziness,
i heard a man,
in a voice ripe and bold,
telling me of "a fifteen year-old girl",
"walking home from a friend's house",
"never saw him coming",
"concentration of .18",
"mother is devastated",
"she got straight As"
,
the last voice was a woman sobbing.
it countinued crackling,
while my heart started throbbing,
wanting so desperately to say sorry
to the lady crying in between the static.
Love this part though.

and i can only guess the world exists beyond this room,
that the lady from the radio
is right under my window
should i happen to draw the curtains apart.
and maybe the man's voice is mine,
the reincarnation of my martyred fortitude,
the specter of my wayward humanity.
somewhere in the pits of my viscera,
instinct had been forgotten.
because i was sure instinct didn't pay up,
that it left you cold and desolate,
harboring heirlooms of sadness from unrelated relatives,
digesting the wallowing history of others
until your stomach burst in order to save itself.

but instinct does reign through those curtains,
and through that open door,
and through the voice crackling in the radio;
my voice,
ripe and bold
telling myself where night has fallen
and where my warmth may equal the sun's.
I don't like this part so much. I loved the first line, but the bolded part, while worded quite eloquently, I just didn't like it so much.


and i'm feeling sick now.
i need to go vomit.
because frequencies are aligning
and the static is disappearing gradually into the aether.
i watch it wisp away
arduously,
purposefully,
along with my stasis.


I really loved the first verse and the next line. Had you used only the first verse and then added "but I can only guess the world exists outside this room" I would have like it more.
#3
I liked the storyline, but I felt that the grandiose phrases such as "the reincarnation of my martyred fortitude," and "armed with arcane wisdom" made it a tad unrelatable, because I had to stop and think, okay, now what is "martyred fortitude" supposed to feel like?

I liked the part where the character goes:

"the last voice was a woman sobbing.
it countinued crackling,
while my heart started throbbing,
wanting so desperately to say sorry
to the lady crying in between the static."

that reached out to me.
Quote by icaneatcatfood
On second thought, **** tuning forks. You best be carrying around a grand piano that was tuned by an Italian
#4
armed with arcane wisdom,
i turned the radio on to hear static,
intermittedly interrupted
with patches of a news broadcast.
the punctuation here is wrong. There at least shouldn't be a comma after 'static'
the outside world was coming in and out
and for the longest time,
i had been twisting the dial to find the right frequency.
this was the best the world was giving me,
'but this was', maybe?
just an irritating buzz
mixed surreptitiously with words and phrases
of how the world turns.
through the haziness,
line break made 'haziness' even worse. laziness.
i heard a man,
in a voice ripe and bold,
telling me of "a fifteen year-old girl",
"walking home from a friend's house",
"never saw him coming",
"concentration of .18",
"mother is devastated",
"she got straight As"
,
the last voice was a woman sobbing.
it countinued crackling,
sp.
while my heart started throbbing,
wanting so desperately to say sorry
to the lady crying in between the static.

and here you go. I think you should rework the rest of it It loses momentum drastically after the first line of it. All of the ideas and images are tied together so loosely that it feels a bit empty.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#5
thanks everyone for the great crits. they helped so much. i reworked a lot of the second part. i agree that it felt empty so i took the grandiose phrasing. hopefully it's a little better than before.
here, My Dear, here it is
#7
Thank you! I noticed that you have a few pieces up. I'll get to 'em as soon as I can.
here, My Dear, here it is
#9
repetition of 'world' should go.

There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#10
^haha, i think i used that word a little too much too. thanks

and mamosa, i'll get to that one for sure
here, My Dear, here it is
#11
Not much I can say that hasn't already been said, except that I like it.

Scratch that, I don't like the sobbing/throbbing rhyme. I also almost missed your recent trend of a quote at the beginning, but it was a refreshing change at the same time.

Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
#12
^thanks, ganoosh. i saw you posted another piece and i'll get to that as soon as i can. i definitely agree with what you said though
here, My Dear, here it is
#13
Quote by SubwayToVenus
i turned the radio on to hear static
intermittedly interrupted
with patches of a news broadcast.
the outside world was coming in and out
and for the longest time,
i had been twisting the dial to find the right frequency.
but this was the best the world was giving me,
I really liked this line ^
just an irritating buzz
mixed surreptitiously with words and phrases
of how the world turns. I like this too
through the haziness i heard a man,
in a voice ripe and bold,
telling me of "a fifteen year-old girl",
"walking home from a friend's house",
"never saw him coming",
"concentration of .18",
"mother is devastated",
"she got straight As"
,
the last voice was a woman sobbing.
it continued crackling,
while my heart started throbbing,
wanting so desperately to say sorry
to the lady crying in between the static.
God, that was an amazing couple lines- about the girl until the line above

hearing the pain in her voice makes me think,
maybe i'm ready for a world beyond this room.
but as soon as i begin to make my move,
the static resumes and i resign to the feeling
that i'm too comfortable within these walls
with my feet planted to the floor
and my ears peeled
waiting for the man's voice to tell me more.
because when a mother's tears fall on her child's grave
mixing anonymously with a cold, derelict rain,
i would much rather have my heart break
in solitude.
I liked this part but it could be done without

and these frequencies may never align,
leaving me to let the world turn and turn
without raising my voice,
letting it know that how it turns is some of my concern.
Loved this ^
but so long as there remains static in my radio,
so too will there remain stasis in me.


Wow, this piece is my favorite kind. It depicts a story, but the story is not the main focus of the entire piece. It just was a nice change from everything else. If you could take a look at my piece that would be awesome https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=1199324 Thanks