sleep now babe
while wolves knock on your eyelids,
craving the caress of your vision,
the soft coo of your iris.
lodge them in your peripherals and love your lonliness
because whether made of sticks or bricks
they'll find a way in
blowing that
and blowing this.
and within that tantrum,
the purest tears don't cure the blind,
grandmothers die without a huntsman,
dreams abandon you at midnight's stroke
with the mangiest dogs, rats and pumpkins;
and the stars overhead
that once twinkled like a tiara
now twitch
in the filthiest discomfort.
but my, what a princess you are
and the gentle choir of your sleeping breath
and my soft, swirling lullabies
will surely be all that we need
to survive,
to lock the wolves in winter
to lock the child inside
at least for today
and tomorrow
and the day after that
and the day after that
and the day....
here, My Dear, here it is
Last edited by SubwayToVenus at Dec 11, 2009,
This started off quite decent and interesting, but by the halfway mark just didn't have enough going to engage me to the end.

I knew what to expect after you began dealing in the repeition of "And your" etc. It was just "okay, here we go, time to try and be clever and witty by picking small relationship-type details and put them in here". It just felt like ticking-the-boxes writing rather than somethign crafted.

Everything after "lullabies" I felt was just unnecesary and duff.

I think you should work with the 9/10 lines and see what better piece you can come up with, because you had intriguing things happening.

Have a nice day.
Oh man, I love hopping in here and seeing your name on a thread - it usually makes my day. So let's start off on a good foot - loneliness. yeah? okay then.

the anti sight rhyme but still incessant tongueroll is inescapable, eyelids, iris, it jumps at you when its louder than a thought, the last part the mountain lion that leaps from its ledge at the dawn biker, who at this moment, not too many people want to be. but the mountain lion is the author of rhymes, dissecting the material from american girls' lives and bodies, wait, who is that child and why hasn't he heard this fairy tale? let's start from the beginning again, I like the and your and your and your and your I do it myself in run on sentences, but here it's just a little excessive, restraining and love wants out of her shackles, her servants observations are gelling concrete repetition, which works and works like the three little pigs, the process of the wolf in the bed, keep asking those questions, keeping building those shacks, we'll learn this deduction eventually, just keep telling stories, updating all the time the time and modern elements that make us fit and ready to take on the world, borrow milk and cheese and worry about the boat, and the ether...

jammydude mentioned that after lullabies, it's just filler, and it is, but if this is deciphered with that little one in mind you know that when you're singing the a-b-c's, the rest about the next time is settle work, to calm them down, or if they've already fallen asleep - you can't stop with the end of the song, they need to be rocked to sleep by lullabies or traffic, gunshots or the ocean, and if I had my choice, I'd just sing a little longer.
spike you should just take one of your comments and post it as a poem itself. I always love reading your comments, thanks.

i can see how i may have had too many "and yours" in there and i'll work to polish it up a little. i also was glad to see that you picked up on the last lines because that is what i was exactly going for: the idea of holding an innocent, precious baby in your arms and, with every ounce of your being, not being able to let go. you just keeping singing and singing, wanting time to freeze and for him/her to stay that way forever.

thank you again for your unique perspective.
here, My Dear, here it is
Y'know, you really had me for awhile, and then I just lost interest towards the end. I'd get rid of a big chunk at the end, if it were me. I just hate to say this again, but critting after those two is so hard. Too many lines started with 'and'. Thirteen.

Nevertheless, I absolutely am in love with the beginning. This could have been really good. Not that it wasn't, but even for your standards. Great.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
thanks for the crit, 'noosh. it seems to be the general consensus that this falls off towards the end so I reworked it and made some changes.

i think it's better than before. but who knows
here, My Dear, here it is