#1
It's sporadic! It's pretentious! Crit for crit!


I masked defeat with a corpse and stood fast between roots.
Burn the foliage!
Bury the past!
An empty body bag filled with soil?
We?re six feet under, and we both know I won?t last.
She stood on treetops and screamed a symphony for the stars.
Interposed was a question of faith.
Me or this?
His shirt still stained with shoplifted ink
Lips puckered and painted pink.
Pray mother****er!
Plasmid thoughts invade a sequester
Guillotine mimes and a dead court jester?
Dance, orangutan dance!
My funnybone fell out and tickled off someone?s pants.
Blinding the shame with marquee board lights
Coercing the past into knuckle-dusting fist fights.
The ballroom was rotting and my flesh was dead.
The air was choked with dead expectations, and I filled my lungs.
A knot in my mouth, my tongue.
My hands wrung and buried themselves in celestial woe.
There is no place else to go
The theater is closed
#2
wow... is this a song or just free writing?? i dont care i really like this. it doesnt see to make a whole lotta sense to me but i dont usually get these things anyway. i really like your detailed words through this & the way it all sort of 'flos' in together... nice. not much else i could crit on this its pretty perfect the way it is... well done!! 10/10
Quote by Lord_Of_Dance.

I never understood why a girl would take a boner as a bad thing "Oh no, your attracted to me, you sick wanker." :\ x


Quote by Nelsean
Im saying this the straightest way possible, but...

I'd have sexual intercourse with your anus.
#4
kick ass, dude. kick. ass.
"Burn the foliage!
Bury the past!
An empty body bag filled with soil?
We?re six feet under, and we both know I won?t last."

great stuff. 10/10.
B.C. RICH
#7
nice
there are doors that open
there are doors that dont

A recent study shows that 8% of teenagers listen to nothing but music with guitars in it. Put this in your sig if you're one of the 92% who aren't close-minded morons.
#10
I need to say to people: Just because it's poetry like this, does not mean that everything needs to be reminded of The Mars Volta. In fact, most poets don't care what band it reminds you of, because it's not musical. (Sorry, I just see every poem posted here compared to The Mars Volta and it annoys me...)

Onto the writing: I really enjoyed this, and your internal rhyme, as well as your standard-ish rhymes. They made this have great flow, and I really enjoyed it. The only line I feel doesn't sound right is:

The ballroom was rotting and my flesh was dead.
The air was choked with dead expectations, and I filled my lungs.

I can't explain it. I love it, but it doesn't sound right at all to me. Possibly just because of it's somewhat-awkward placement in the poem... I don't know, maybe something to think about. I think you went for word-play with dead/dead expectations, but in my opinion their a little too far apart syllable-wise to actually affect the reader. It's more of an after-thought. Anyway, very nice work. Hopefully I'll be seeing more by you soon.
#11
It's not intended to be wordplay, looking back now I admit it sounds kind of redundant.

A big thank you to everyone who commented and compared this to TMV, although I can't say I agree.
There is no place else to go
The theater is closed