Hey I posted this before with the same title. But it's not the same. I'll delete the other one, and return the critique. Sorry, I'm in a halfway house and I've been preoccupied with programming and my exploration of infinity. I'll probably write more about what's going on, or something else if something else starts to happen.

Critique for critque.

A poem for a cat at the peak of the year of the phoenix

Beneath the overhang of the place where dregs seek redemption, we sought safety from a summer's rain. Soaking wet clothes and smokes, our eyes like mirrors our innate curse. We challenged God to make us blind, and read eachother's souls in verse.

Her arms are cut with scars and tracks, like rings around the heart of a log; marking each year she survived, just to keep me warm as she turns to smoke. And as I turn to smoke, I want to keep her warm, but she slips inside to mop the floor with alluring transgression. And I run to borrow some cigarettes from the Arabs across town, and when I returned, like a crazy Christian Simile, the sun came out and so did she.

She bought us coffee from a hipster joint and we sat by the fountain as I fell into fantasy. And hours escaped me as I admired the beauty of a moment with her and nothing felt tragic. Even the bums and five dollar blowjobs were full of grace.

And as the city dragged us home, she placed a glossy target on her lips and minted my breath, and as I moved my face and hand, I feared infinity might escape me.
Last edited by clichealias at Jul 2, 2010,
I don't know. No body posted on this and I'm not sure I care enough to pretend to really care about reading anyone else's writing. My spelling sucks too.

I'm not sure if I post this on here for validation or what I seek as I post my writing infrequently on these boards. This board's lack of response sent me into a quagmire of thoughts and further self hatred. I'm sure I seem as though I am detached from this forum and that would make sense, considering I am generally detached from most people and things. I don't like that, so I'm sorry if you get that feeling. But it's hard for me to contrive some sort of caring about even real life tangible people, let alone people on a message board whose writing I feel generally disconnected from. I'm not a valuable asset to this forum, and my motives for posting seem generally selfish. I guess that's what drove me to write this, my feelings of detachment went away when I had that one day with this marvelously crazy beautiful person. I generally feel like the narrator of Jacob Edinger, and not Jacob Edinger and for once in my life I felt free to just live and allow life to happen without narrating his next move and her thoughts or actions. I'm not sure if this made any sense to you. But I guess I'll probably stop posting here because I don't see my nihlistic tendancies changing. Thank you for provoking my thoughts with your lack of response, this is as altruistic as I can be.
I genuinely always look for your pieces and make sure to read them whenever I see them... your work is interesting and different. However, if you feel like stopping, then by all means stop. This forum provides a nice excuse to right though, so if I were you, I'd just stay, even if some pieces don't get any feedback. I'm pretty well-known on here and a lot of my pieces still go by pretty unnoticed. Regardless, I like your work, so you have at least one person looking out for your pieces.

This piece is interesting, and I enjoyed the fact that it didn't drag on for too long. Each image was distinct. I think you could clean it up a bit as far as editing goes, but for what it is, it's lovely.
Quote by Arthur Curry
it's official, vintage x metal is the saving grace of this board and/or the antichrist

e-married to
& alaskan_ninja

I agree with vintagexmetal. and in my experience, at the end of the day, in order for your writing to survive, even in nihilism, it must be done to and for yourself.

I definitely went through a period where you wonder if it even matters, and postings on a forum silently demanding response became frustrating.

however, the only critique that should truly matter in your work should be your own. the way you grow most as a writer is by challenging yourself. and also, at the end of the day- as far as attention for your work goes, you have to believe that regardless if your work would ever be published or not, even if it would collect dust, that you would still write it, and that is statement enough to yourself.

your writing has another reader as well.
Thanks you guys. It's nice to know someone reads me. I feel connected now that I'm high on dope and benzos. I'm on the run from the law right now, trying to get out of state and flopping around in euphoria until I get caught or get out of state.