#1
Vibrating cords
into
off-the-beat frequencies.
The droning harmonics
of over-elevated sonics,
touch and go phonics
twisting her tongue into lead
(please).
Kinematic pulses
into
maddening rhythms;
clairvoyant schisms.
God tied around her pinky
when
she winks at the sky
so the clouds can fall down
and the trees wonder,
and the trees cry.

Balanced on her spring
I oscillate and wait
for the pendulum to slow
and the field lines to mend;
when the crown she now steals
can rest once again.
#2
i don't understand the first part at all - everything before god tied. i mean i looked up the words to make sure i knew what they meant and all, but i couldn't grasp what the phrases meant in relation to the rest of the piece. probably a problem on my end as opposed to yours. not that they weren't well written. just, yeah.

HOWEVER i really loved everything after that. the idea of being able to pull the wool over god's all seeing eyes is a great one. like, story material. i also enjoyed the rhyming throughout - pinky and wink, clouds and down. i kind of wanted to see what you were going to do with pendulum, though.

of everyone i read on here, your stuff might give me the most trouble in deciphering what the hell you mean. i mean i conjure up a few ideas and kick them around but never anything that seems correct. i like it nonetheless.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn


#3
Thanks for reading. I know I've asked you this before, but I've forgotten your name, could you please remind me?

All of the above lines are ways of characterizing either sound waves or the generation of them from energy transfer. This is actually written about the little girl who lives in the apartment above me; she has some form of degenerative disease which causes her to scream a lot, which often wakes me up. However, in person, she's really nice and lovely.

I'd say a good deal of the fault lies with me for you not understanding. I find it boring to write in ways that seem over plain to me. Whether that has its merits or not, I don't know... but since I'm writing for fun, I write in a way that seems most enjoyable to me, which often means trying to find a fun way to frame the story in my head. Probably leads to more confusion than it's worth, but I enjoy it anyways.

Do you have a piece you'd like me to look at?
#4
my name's rob.

and, i see. though upon looking at it with your explanation i still find it hard to link the two, but that's because, as you said, you're framing the story in your mind, and of course you know the details behind every detail, you know what your metaphors mean, etc, while i don't have anything to go on besides what you've given me. i'm not saying that's a bad thing, though, that tendency - whatever works for you, since it's for enjoyment purposes, works for the reader.

i threw up "for dylan", it should still be on the front page, if you'd like. complete with huge vyvanse induced explanatory paragraph and post-valentine's day woes.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn