#1
Face facts, boyo
This world is more profound than you
ever gave it credit for
And your naïveté is a pool in which even God could drown.

I’ve spun the album ten times over,
and with each cautious listen I heard a dozen new songs.
Four score years passed by
Like a beautiful stranger
On the sidewalk of my guilt

Day turns to night turns to dawn
Man turns to hatred turns to dust
In the end (If there is an end)
Your abstract dreams and thoughts on infinity
will have gotten you infinitely nowhere,
wandering
through abstraction.

Dawn turns to dusk
Hate turns to love
In the beginning you knew nothing
In the beginning you knew the most
Lose the act, boyo
These things you profess to know
are rusted nails
in your tender, sweaty palms.
I want Super Saiyan abilities
Last edited by rebelmidget at Oct 21, 2009,
#2
In the end
(If there is an end)
Your abstract dreams and thoughts on infinity
will have gotten you infinitely nowhere,
wandering…
through abstraction.


I like the idea of "wandering through abstraction". paints an "ambigously vivid" picture. Like a void of so much that ultimately equates to nothing. nice.

These things you profess to know
are rusted nails
in your tender, sweaty palms.


This is insane. very specific imagery projecting a relatively ambiguous meaning. I would really like to know specifically what the "rusted nails" are symbolic of from your point of view. on a quick re-read of the line I almost got martyrdom from it.
#3
There were a lot of solid ideas and lines here. Some of them are quite memorable and are borderline genius. However, as a whole this doesn't stand for much. It twists and turns and catapults itself into a cluster-fuck of abstract idealism. I normally love when pieces take twists and turns I could never predict; but here, I felt like you were circumventing a direct take on ANYTHING just for the hell of it. Your ideas are good... but they don't tie together and blend into a piece that will have any meaning. You jump from witticism to witticism without ever establishing a narrational tone, an object of your ideas, or a point for your reader to bind to.

All in all, this was hit and miss. In parts, you had some mind bendings thoughts and execution. On the whole, I won't remember this a day from now. It just didn't deliver any punch behind its facade of wit and beauty.

for the crit on mine.