C4C, as always.

Embellished spoons and disk jockeys
pave the way for a rising generation of
liars and cynics,
barflies and addicts,
all the pretentious leftovers of hand-me-down wars
and imitation causes of yesterday's God;
poverty-stricken angels
watch from below as Heaven closes its gates
and barricades its windows
to the people it once tried to save.

It's funny how things happen
when people forget to mind the little things:
the clicking of a tongue,
a blackbird outside a window,
or the aftertaste of lemon tea on an argentine day in April.
I really enjoyed it. However I don't understand why you chose argentine to describe the day.


They say when they finally attack, all the impostors will peel themselves. In order to tell if you have been assimilated, check for a zipper somewhere near your pelvis.

really really visceral. I ended up reading this out loud and it was like butter. the strongest piece start to finish I've read from you. really loved the tasteful little depictive bits- argentine sky, poverty-stricken angels; very tight and responsive. the idea of heaven closing its gates really got to me too- a really ephemeral image that strikes a chord with these apathetic times. like the last true goodness has turned away because even hope couldn't last out. great piece.

please comment on A Season's Mood if you find the time
As someone else commented, this definitely flows like butter.

This piece definitely comments on the socio-economic issues with modern society, while somehow making me think of V for Vendetta

The poverty-stricken angels part is awesome. I also love the contrast between "embellished spoons" and "disk jockeys"

EDIT: I'd appreciate it if you could crit "The best damn eulogy I can give."
this was an enjoyable read. it starts nice enough to make me want to keep reading. the flow is another strong point. i thought by the second half of the first stanza you were getting a bit too dramatic, but then in the second stanza, that certain tension leaves, the contrast making a nice little cadence in my mind, sort of like a chord resolving. i like the last stanza, i'm always a fan of mixed images, even if their not too elaborated, if done right a group of images alone can give a certain feeling. my only concerned with the ending is that the last line feels long and fragmented to a certain degree: "or the X of Y on a Z in W". yeah. the idea is nice though.

Quote by Winter Sky
I wrote this on a day that was very cloudy, but the sun shone through the clouds, making them look silver. Argentine just felt right.

i think this goes with the thing about images i was talking about. props for going with it. i'm not one for much rationality in art, i used to be really into surrealism back then and yeah, i often just go with what i feel and whatever i think most accurately expressess it.

goodstuff overall.
Love how it flows so pleasantly :P Keep it up I love this piece!
C4C... deal?

I am friendly, so to anyone who is reading this... don't be afraid to comment and befriend me

P.S. You can be as harsh as you want when critisising... I enjoy the truth!!
By the way, I've been toying with switching "disk jockeys" to "DJs," not that I'm saying you should, but it's pretty cool how both of them work perfectly. I could never get my poetry to flow so well
I don't like the multiple use of the word "things" at the start of the second stanza. It smacks of careless language use, whereas the rest of the piece seems to say exactly what you mean to say...

Whatever that is.

i really wanted to get into this but you didnt let me. every image is fleeting like whispered static, just kind of annoying, purposeless. there wasnt any uniformity of movement. yeah, the flow was there, but for what? the meaning seemed to be bent on devouring itself where every step you made you made one back in another direction. any one of these images was begging to be released and to breathe but instead were cut down either by wordiness or brevity.

the first four lines of the second stanza were perfect, brief but accesible and full (especially the images) and then the fifth line comes along and the audience is left with the fluff of adjectives and mouthy sylabbles. i feel like this last line is a microcosm for the rest of the piece.

this poem definitely has potential, you just need to shell it out. make every word count.

gah. this reads much too choppy. i was surprised people commented on the smoothness of it, but idk. the beginning was a bit cliche and ineffective, but the ending was very pleasant.

make of that what you will, sir (or mam)...

oh and, congratulations
I for one really liked this. I can't offer a full crit or anything, but well done man.
You take my place in the showdown, I observe with a pitiful eye. I'll humbly ask you forgiveness, a request well beyond you and I.
Wow, I come back after a few absent days to find my piece has become Writing of the Week.

Cheers to everyone who enjoyed it. Doubly cheers to those who didn't and weren't afraid to tell me why.