This is something I wrote in the past hour, Stream of Consciousness
It horrifies me.

A fly is squirming on my window
Trying to find a way out
Its locked in there is no way
It is being kept here by some superior force
It reminds me of a time when I
Well I was trapped:

It was 1984
My father, he was an alcoholic
And my mother was fatally ill
She lay on her death bed in her room
My father, he was a terrible man
But he loved her, he did
But that night, he came in from the bars
Saw me sitting next to my mother
Watching her slowly breathe while she slept
I was only eight years old then
But I knew of the horrors of death
Now my father, he walks in and goes
Kid I am moving away
And you are staying here
He gave a mailicious laugh as he grabbed me
He threw me to the chair
And he tied me to it and it to the bedpost
And he ran out of the room
My mother died that night
I never saw my father again

This fly is funny
It just keeps banging up on the glass
It is probably just hurting itself
I could open the window but I like its company
It is very comforting

Welcome to St. Francis Orphanage
We will find you a mommy and daddy soon
Will they be nice
Absolutely, the nicest parents in the world
Many times I saw parents come in
They looked at me and thought I was interesting
I got an education there and learned a bit of responsibility
But I wanted someone to take me home
Everytime they liked me they ended up
Dissuaded by Mrs. Emerson, the head of the orphanage
She seemed to really like me
I had to do chores all the time.
One night though things changed
I knocked out a fellow orphan
And I started choking her
I left the orphanage the next day

The fly is still alive
But I took off its wings
It is walking around
But it will never leave me
It is mine, all mine

A dove flew in my room
I was painting the devil
So I took the kind dove
And I painted it black
It loved me
Never even tried to fly away
It sat in the corner of the room
Watching me
O sweet sweet blackbird
How I love you so
It just lay there
Like a sleeping statue

The fly has stopped trying to escape
It has stopped moving
Yes, all mine forever and ever
I love that fly

I went to the kitchen to get a drink
I stepped over some of my still pets
And then I saw my favorite of them all
The bones of my dear, my dear dear dear
Last edited by 21wickwing at Nov 12, 2009,
I like this one. I like how you referred to the fly throughout but I think there should be a final little stanza about the fly, to keep it consistant, but also to make it give you that 'echoing' feeling that send chills downyour spine..

Sweet stuff bro :P
Quote by SamuelBirkett
wtf r u say make no sensical

I liked it, but the switching from informal and formal language was a bit confusing. I also think it could be much more poetic but I also see the comfort in it's kind language. I'll probably come back later but now, nice.
Quote by hippieboy444
I liked it, but the switching from informal and formal language was a bit confusing. I also think it could be much more poetic but I also see the comfort in it's kind language. I'll probably come back later but now, nice.

It would be a little better read if the writing was a little more refined, let's say. And seeing speech inside the proper punctuation I think would help the read, especially in just presentation and understanding.

I think if you refined the language a little more you could build up these layers of meaning. Writing stream of consciousness doesn't mean a good edit isn't needed. You could have made this a great piece but it feels you just stuck with this initial outline and at the ending it isn't strong, it isn't a bang, but it fizzles because the meaning or emotion just isn't created with the more-or-less limited exploration in the above sections.

I also think your use of the word "malicious" is just wooden and awful.

That said, you have the basis for a really great piece that I think you could spruce up. It could be good, should be better, and if you do go back to this sometime and really have a crack at it, I'd love to give it a read so pm it to me.

As for now I'm quite blase over this piece. But you've caught my eye and I shall be keeping tabs.
This is absolutely horrifying. I love it, I absolutely do, one of my favorite pieces I've read in a long time. The only thing I sort of dislike about it is the format, I have grown accustomed to reading things with "proper" (whatever that means, I'm not trying to say that this style is improper) capitalization and punctuation. Sometimes I'm not sure whether to read lines as a continuation of a previous line or a new one (it is what bothers me about most poetry, to be honest (that and that whole, "this has a deeper meaning;" I read yours as imageism and pure SoC, which is why I enjoy it so much)).

I think the fly things could almost stand on their own, though I do like it included with this.
Lord Gold feeds from your orifices and he wants to see you sweat.
Lord Gold probes you publicly and makes your pussy wet.
Now say his name.....
The entirety of the piece is decidedly conversational, but it only seems stream of consciousness, to me, maybe in the latter half. I feel like in the first half of the poem, you're having a hard time letting go of linearity and convention, and toward the second half, you let go a little more. I think this actually gives a nice effect. I feel like there's definitely a theme here, or at the very least, a feeling of boiling ugliness and madness. Cool poem, but I definitely feel like the first half is a little less inspired than the end.