#1
Crit for Crit.
Hey everyone, I've been a little quiet here the past month, just posting a few little pieces, and the reason is I was experimenting with my style, trying things I haven't tried before, and here is the product of my struggles. Hope you can give me some feedback.


Eleven eyes and a bottle of Grandpa's cure-all tonic peer down from their perch upon my shelf. Eleven symbols and a toast to them. Eleven months, eleven jewels, eleven chances, eleven pools of blood.

Eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven...

...And my bloody murder memory .

The single golden garnet, a tribute to the start, the oldest eye of all, stares stonily ahead and silently accuses me of stealing what wasn't mine to take when it wouldn't give me the life it didn't have at all. An unmoving piece of rock, yet moving in the fact that it was my first love, my first life, my first steady rhythm, and my first addicting victim.

The first, the first, the first, she was the first addicting victim...

...Of my bloody murder memory.

An amethyst and an aquamarine, lonely heralds for the three score yellow moons of Saint Valentine and the vernal equinox. One was born on Cupid's Day, exhaled through open crimson lips and dripped onto the floor. The other came to with the change from dark and cold to the blossoming of warmth and light, when I sent a life into the abyss, into the abyss with another murder memory.

An emerald and a pearl, followed by a sapphire and a peridot. Four pairs of eyes for the four that stared at me in disbelief and fear. The streams of red, started by the first three, opened into a river as the banks of my mind began to erode.
Four new moons came and went, but four more eyes came here to stay. A sapphire and an opal, then a citrine and a topaz. The river became a flood...

A month is missing from my memory, I cannot recall a pair of eyes, wide in shock, or the brush of bleeding lips against my own. Eleven of the twelve are here, but the last, I cannot remember...
Turning from my trophy case, I see the missing eye, lying on my bed, her own were closed by the drug of sleep, but the gem winks at me from her left ring finger, and I remember why an eye for April is not there behind me...

The eye was bought on the the second day of the month, my day, the day I came into to world, encased in a golden band, the eye a pure and dazzling white, my mind clear and full of purpose, but a kiss and brush of soft lips brought me to one knee, and April took its place on her finger, not among my glittering eyes, and it will stay there as long as my emotions are stronger than my addiction and the dam of love she placed unknowingly around me can weather the lash of insanity. But the eye will always wait for me...

It will wait, it will wait, it will wait...

...Along with my bloody murder memory.



EDIT EDIT EDIT: On 7:30 PM of Sept. 30, changed the whiskey fist theme on account that I took Dylan's words on accident.
Last edited by AAA_the_band at Oct 1, 2006,
#2
Interesting piece.

I'm not too sure what to make of it, to be honest. A mix of intriguing ideas.

I'll let someone else rip into this one, sorry I can't be of more use.

But good on you for experimenting, helped me alot.

Jamie
#3
I read most of it, I loved most of it, then I got to the last line, and I did a double-take, a triple take and then I grew bewildered, why the hell would you blatantly steal a line? why?

On september 25th I posted this thread and this thread was edited once on the 26th: https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=439334

in the last line of said thread was this line:
Quote by Dylan
Cancer is feeling, forever etched in sound by her crimson lips mashed on my makeshift vodka fist.


then I come across this line here
Quote by stealy mc' stealerkins
...Along with my make-shift whiskey fist.


now I dunno if I have a right to be pissed, flattered, or still just plain bewildered that {either conciously or subconciously} you blatantly took a phrase that I coined (and have used more than once) as a knock out (ending) line in your piece. I'm just confused by the entire situation.

like seriously, WTF

I've actually used 'makeshift' (insert name of alcohol) so much in my most modern stuff thats is become a habit thats rather hard to break...

anyway, my question is: why?
#4
^^sorry there dylan, didnt even think about that, honestly, i dont remember even critting any of your pieces in the past month or even really visiting S & L except to post a short piece or crit a random piece. But I will say that I may have read one with that kind of phrase in it and subconsiously used it here, so I'm switching it right now, I hate to steal someone's work, either purposely or not.
Last edited by AAA_the_band at Sep 30, 2006,
#5
Eleven eyes and a bottle of Grandpa's cure-all tonic peer down from their perch upon my shelf. Eleven symbols and a toast to them. Eleven months, eleven jewels, eleven chances, eleven pools of blood.

Eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven...


...And my bloody murder memory .
An interesting opening. There's nothing much for me to dig into here, it is well written. The only thing I can suggest is that the last line here, that repeats throughout the piece is strong enough to not be separated in the structure. It seems a tad over dramatic. It's a good line, it will still hold all the meaning together with the line before.


The single golden garnet, a tribute to the start, the oldest eye of all, stares stonily ahead and silently accuses me of stealing what wasn't mine to take when it wouldn't give me the life it didn't have at all. An unmoving piece of rock, yet moving in the fact that it was my first love, my first life, my first steady rhythm, and my first addicting victim.

The first, the first, the first, she was the first addicting victim...


...Of my bloody murder memory.
The first line runs too long. I lost my thread of thought and had to read it several times to capture the meaning. Consider rephrasing. I understand you were going for the same ending (of the four-lines stanza) like in the previous one, and so I found the last "and" to be redundant. Same critique for the last line.

An amethyst and an aquamarine, lonely heralds for the three score yellow moons of Saint Valentine and the vernal equinox. One was born on Cupid's Day, exhaled through open crimson lips and dripped onto the floor. The other came to with the change from dark and cold to the blossoming of warmth and light, when I sent a life into the abyss, into the abyss with another murder memory.
Nothing to say about the writing here, it's solid. However, in the overall view of the piece, this stanza seems not up to the standards of the rest, regarding the theme.

An emerald and a pearl, followed by a sapphire and a peridot. Four pairs of eyes for the four that stared at me in disbelief and fear. The streams of red, started by the first three, opened into a river as the banks of my mind began to erode.
Four new moons came and went, but four more eyes came here to stay. A sapphire and an opal, then a citrine and a topaz. The river became a flood...
You have great flow and... perhaps zeal, going into this stanza. The last sentence was odd. It would have been better if you connected it with the repeating line, or at least something that would maintain the structure you were going for. It's ok if you left one stanza to stand apart, but afterwards it lost the charm it had (when it returned later on). I know it may seem like a gimmick and that's the reason I suggested you incorporate it into the text rather then set it apart.

A month is missing from my memory, I cannot recall a pair of eyes, wide in shock, or the brush of bleeding lips against my own. Eleven of the twelve are here, but the last, I cannot remember...
Turning from my trophy case, I see the missing eye, lying on my bed, her own were closed by the drug of sleep, but the gem winks at me from her left ring finger, and I remember why an eye for April is not there behind me...
I dislike the '...' in this stanza even if before it did not bother me as much. Perhaps because here you used it mid-stanza. I found "left ring finger" odd, as we really only have one ring finger. Perhaps the meaning you were going for eluded me here.

The eye was bought on the the second day of the month, my day, the day I came into to world, encased in a golden band, the eye a pure and dazzling white, my mind clear and full of purpose, but a kiss and brush of soft lips brought me to one knee, and April took its place on her finger, not among my glittering eyes, and it will stay there as long as my emotions are stronger than my addiction and the dam of love she placed unknowingly around me can weather the lash of insanity. But the eye will always wait for me...

It will wait, it will wait, it will wait...


...Along with my bloody murder memory.
Typo on the end of the first line "into to world", just for your attention. I know I've said before that one of your sentences was a bit long to comprehend, but this is absolutely ridiculous. Just when you're coming to your big finale, this is turning to the stream of consciousness. It's actually not that bad, but it's not how you've written the rest of this piece and therefore it stands out. Too many commas in all the wrong places. Just fix it up a little in that aspect and I'm sure it will be fine. Then the meaning and all of your ideas would come together much better. Like I already said, the return to the repeating line is too late. I've forgotten already about this little twist and it seems a bit cheesy. Just remind us of it sooner and it will shine.

The piece is very well written although I think it needs a lot of work on the small details. Other than that you have a good idea and a good way with words to present it.
It was a bit tiring; although I'm sure it's only the structure and punctuation issues which can be resolved easily.


Carmel
This is not a pipe
#6
this is solidly written, but not as good as it could be. it becomes too prosaic in parts. also, i'm not one for extensive drawn-out metaphors. theyre fine and good and serve their purposes, but it sholdnt take someone 15 minutes sitting here piecing it all together to figure out what you're talking about. it shows good command of the language, but not a good execution of that skill. Metaphors are a means to an end, but should not make up the majority of your piece

in, of course, my humble opinion

take it for what its worth--- good stuff, now just focus and refine your obvious skill

jay
#7
its deep man. i like how all the metaphors just string together and just paint a picture in your head
Fender 4 Life

A recent study shows that 92% of teens moved on to rap. Put this in your sig if your one of the 8 % that stayed with real music.
#8
umm its good but , like. do u actually sing all of that?? cause like damn...i dont think i would have the lungs to sing alllll of that......but IT IS good.