#1
probably my most expansive thing I've ever written.

fulls crits on this are repayed in full, leave a link.
enjoy.

Renee is a beauty.

Elusive or Lonelily.

There is a field, in this field; a girl stands in a pink and white gown. The flower print is light, and you can see through the cotton fabric, she is wearing underwear, but her belly is bare underneath. The dress hardly touches her body as the wind capers past locks of soft brown hair. She looks past a sea of wax coated fibers, strands of long, curious stalks that reach into space, vying for sunlight and air, into the horizon's smile, where the old factories now percolate gun metal plumes.

The area next to the girl, is flat, where someone once stood. The ground is clear of any vegetation, and signs of bare feet are erased by a soft but persistent wind. A dry, voice is heard coming from behind the girl. "Wendy."

Ohio permeates and coagulates,
while he spills upward into a pink sky
where thousands of clouds drift
and create animal cracker shadows
on a pale vermillion horizon. Only the factories
see the curve of the earth, and we've nothing
but factories here, the mountains left us
along time ago.
Caruncular beaks fall, imitating nuclear bombs,
Spreading a perihelion pesticide over the open
wounds that line like threads across
the cotton rip of Montgomery County.


Wendy's knees collapse and she falls onto her side. The gown is flat on the ground as the wind only blows in weak bursts. A cold hand comes down to her shoulders and casts a shadow on one of the filigree patterned flowers adorning her white dress, now coated in a thin layer of dirt and hay. The hand grabs, and squeezes softly. The fingers leave a vague, hue of a pink on the seam of her dress, where the shoulder meets the sleeves. Her lips are trembling and her pupils are dialated, a violent storm from the north approaches and she is picked up off the dry ground and brought inside.

She sleeps the rest of the day, until an early morning, where the ground is rolling over from black to blue to pink, and when she wakes up, her dress is on a metal hanger close to her bed. It is clean from the wash, and it is still warm from the dryer. She puts the dress back on, and she walks slowly to the screen door and weakly pushes it open. Her slow crawl to the middle patch of clear ground...where she will wait for the rest of the day.
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Last edited by Something_Vague at Mar 21, 2007,
#3
I suck at giving full crits, but I'll give this a shot.

There is a field, in this field; a girl stands in a pink and white gown. The flower print is light, and you can see through the cotton fabric, she is wearing underwear, but her belly is bare underneath. The dress hardly touches her body as the wind blows...as the wind capers past locks of soft brown hair. She looks past a sea of wax coated fibers, strands of long, curious stalks that reach into space, vying for sunlight and air, into the horizon's smile, where, now old factories percolate gun metal plumes.

Beautiful description, and even though it looks like there's to many details there's the perfect amount. The only line I didn't like was "sea of wax coated fibers," it's just my opinion though, for some reason it just doesn't sound good to me.

The area next to the girl, is flat, where someone once stood. The ground is clear of any vegetation, and signs of bare feet are erased by a soft but persistent wind. A dry, voice is heard coming from behind the girl. "Wendy."

This stanza felt weaker than the others, the first two sentences are good, but for some reason I don't like the last line. I think there should be more imagery in this stanza before the last line, I think that would make it stronger, but as I said before it's just my opinion.

Ohio permeates and coagulates,
while he spills upward into a pink sky
where thousands of clouds drift
and create animal cracker shadows
on a pale vermillion horizon. Only the factories
see the curve of the earth, and we've nothing
but factories here, the mountains left us
along time ago.
Caruncular beaks fall, imitating nuclear bombs,
Spreading a perihelion pesticide over the open
wounds that line like threads across
the cotton rip of Montgomery County.

I love the meaning stanza (or at least the meaning I got out of it), but I don't like the wording, I would have used something besides pesticide, but everyone has different tastes, the imagery here just didn't appeal to mine.

Wendy's knees collapse and she falls onto her side. The gown is flat on the ground as the wind only blows in weak bursts. A cold hand comes down to her shoulders and casts a shadow on one of the filigree patterned flowers adorning her white dress, now coated in a thin layer of dirt and hay. The hand grabs, and squeezes softly. The fingers leave a vague, hue of a pink on the seem of her dress, where the shoulder meets the sleeves. Her lips are trembling and her pupils are dialated, a violent storm from the north approaches and she is picked up off the dry ground and brought inside.

This is by far my favorite section in the whole piece, it has just the right amount of details imo.

She sleeps the rest of the day, until an early morning, where the ground is rolling over from black to blue to pink, and when she wakes up, her dress is on a metal hanger close to her bed. It is clean from the wash, and it is still warm from the dryer. She puts the dress back on, and she walks slowly to the screen door and weakly pushes it open. Her slow crawl to the middle patch of clear ground, where she will wait for the rest of the day.

Nice, that's all I can think of to say about this part.

I found a way to relate to this pretty easily. The meaning I took from it, is someone trying to help this girl, but she either can't quit, ignores that people care, or doesnt' want to quit. Maybe that's close to what you were shooting for or maybe it's way off, either way I thought this was an enjoyable read, and I agree with the "New matt" being better, lately I've found your pieces to be more enjoyable. Also just so you know this was able to spark up some emotions.

If you could plz crit my latest I'd appreciate it, you'll probably end up ripping it apart, but I get enough nice comments, so rip it apart if you want. It's titled "Shreds of Thought, if it's not in my sig it should be shortly.
Last edited by stratkat at Mar 21, 2007,
#4
Quote by Something_Vague
probably my most expansive thing I've ever written.

fulls crits on this are repayed in full, leave a link.
enjoy.

Renee is a beauty.

Elusive or Lonelily.

There is a field, in this field; a girl stands in a pink and white gown. The flower print is light, and you can see through the cotton fabric, she is wearing underwear, but her belly is bare underneath. The dress hardly touches her body as the wind blows...as the wind capers past locks of soft brown hair. She looks past a sea of wax coated fibers, strands of long, curious stalks that reach into space, vying for sunlight and air, into the horizon's smile, where, now old factories percolate gun metal plumes.

I don't understand the significance of 'capers', but I'm sure I'm just not clever enough to pick up on a pun or something. I also don't unerstand 'wax coated fibers', that seems weird to me. Ilove the image here, but I feel like some of your modifiers are a little... funky.

The area next to the girl, is flat, where someone once stood. The ground is clear of any vegetation, and signs of bare feet are erased by a soft but persistent wind. A dry, voice is heard coming from behind the girl. "Wendy."

This is another really good image. To be honest, I don't think Wendy is a poetic enough name. It made me think of a Neverland-ish type thing, and after reading the piece I know that's not what you're going for... If there's significance, keep it. Otherwise I'd find a different name. No Peter Pan in this story.


Ohio permeates and coagulates,
while he spills upward into a pink sky
where thousands of clouds drift
and create animal cracker shadows
on a pale vermillion horizon. Only the factories
see the curve of the earth, and we've nothing
but factories here, the mountains left us
along time ago.
Caruncular beaks fall, imitating nuclear bombs,
Spreading a perihelion pesticide over the open
wounds that line like threads across
the cotton rip of Montgomery County.


Well, I think you sucessfully used your common modifiers and metaphors in this (Yes, all of them.) and you made it work very well. Although 'pesticide' is a little awkward, I think I like the word in this situation. It depends on what you're going for, but I think it has an almost ironic flair to it. I like it. This is a very good poem in the middle.

Wendy's knees collapse and she falls onto her side. The gown is flat on the ground as the wind only blows in weak bursts. A cold hand comes down to her shoulders and casts a shadow on one of the filigree patterned flowers adorning her white dress, now coated in a thin layer of dirt and hay. The hand grabs, and squeezes softly. The fingers leave a vague, hue of a pink on the seem of her dress, where the shoulder meets the sleeves. Her lips are trembling and her pupils are dialated, a violent storm from the north approaches and she is picked up off the dry ground and brought inside.

Rape? I'm really confused about this, because it seems almost sexual, sensual, and yet the next one she's just in bed. I think it's brilliant if it has to do with sexual assault.

She sleeps the rest of the day, until an early morning, where the ground is rolling over from black to blue to pink, and when she wakes up, her dress is on a metal hanger close to her bed. It is clean from the wash, and it is still warm from the dryer. She puts the dress back on, and she walks slowly to the screen door and weakly pushes it open. Her slow crawl to the middle patch of clear ground, where she will wait for the rest of the day.

I think this is a WONDERFUL ending. In fact, it's probably the best thing you've written thanks to this ending. I've nothing more to say. I know someone said that they think it's about a girl who doesn't know what's good for her. Or can't say no or something, but I'd take a different approach. It's almost like Stockholm Syndrome with a rape victim. Very neat. I love this piece Matt.


Well, you're back, and with flying colors, I might add. Very nice work Matt.

I don't know if I have anything posted here that I want you to read, but if I post something new I'll link you.
#5
Oh you guys :hearts:

You've made me the happiest boy alive!

I'll explain some of themes when this gets some more views. I'm getting to your pieces now though so link me.
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#6
probably my most expansive thing I've ever written.

fulls crits on this are repayed in full, leave a link.
enjoy.

Renee is a beauty.

Elusive or Lonelily.

There is a field, in this field; I'm not sure why you have used the semi colon here. It seems an odd choice of grammar in this opener. a girl stands in a pink and white gown. The flower print is light, and you can see through the cotton fabric, she is wearing underwear, but her belly is bare underneath. Nice rhyming. I'm not sure about the sentence structure here though, and the added clauses. It seems you could have written this part in a more flowing way without the commas. The dress hardly touches her body as the wind blows...as the wind capers past locks of soft brown hair. Unless there's a reason for it, I find it odd that you've gone into more detail of the clothing than the girl... but I do understand it makes her seem "elusive" or just retains the anonymity of the girl, for a personal reason. She looks past a sea of wax coated fibers, strands of long, curious stalks that reach into space, vying for sunlight and air, into the horizon's smile, where, now old factories percolate gun metal plumes. Again I have to say IMO this sort of sentence structure isn't particularly good for flow, and seems odd. Especially the "where", I feel it is placed oddly between two commas on it's own.. perhaps you could clear that up for me? And why you've used punctuation like this?

The area next to the girl, is flat, where someone once stood. The ground is clear of any vegetation, and signs of bare feet are erased by a soft but persistent wind. I love the description here. Simple but cohesive and paints a great image. A dry, voice is heard coming from behind the girl. "Wendy."
#7
Your title is very clever.

You have a knack for story-like anythings, including stories themselves.

This is basically one of the greatest pieces you have ever written, IMO.

My only complaint is the "... as the wind capers", you could just remove the wind blows, and keep that part of the line, as I feel the whole pausing-dramatic effect is hardly needed. And it just flat out sounds, reads, and is better as "the wind capers".
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

#8
Thanks :]

I think you didn't pick that most of the descriptions where used as understatements, something I really love about Hemmingway's style and I wish I could do it better, but I tried to use understatement to emphasize the whole idea, or the emotion rather than the imagery. I need to go back and replace commas, because there are some misplaced ones in there.

I write prose, how I would read it. I place commas, where I would normally pause in real life. I have a slow city draw, I emphasize, a lot of my words and when I begin to write long pieces, I start using commas, more often than I should. It's like a nature, talk-speak, or something. Who knows, I just think it's unique, and some people have found it refreshing.
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#9
I write prose, how I would read it. I place commas, where I would normally pause in real life. I have a slow city draw, I emphasize, a lot of my words and when I begin to write long pieces, I start using commas, more often than I should. It's like a nature, talk-speak, or something. Who knows, I just think it's unique, and some people have found it refreshing.


Fair enough, perfectly undertandable. Just though I'd bring up the point
#14
Quote by Something_Vague
probably my most expansive thing I've ever written.

fulls crits on this are repayed in full, leave a link.
enjoy.

Renee is a beauty.

Elusive or Lonelily.

There is a field, in this field; a girl stands in a pink and white gown. The flower print is light, and you can see through the cotton fabric, she is wearing underwear, but her belly is bare underneath. The dress hardly touches her body as the wind capers past locks of soft brown hair. She looks past a sea of wax coated fibers, strands of long, curious stalks that reach into space, vying for sunlight and air, into the horizon's smile, where the old factories now percolate gun metal plumes.
Creative punctuation is very cool when done well, and you do a good job of it. That last sentence is superb really, it just works so naturally I didn't even realize how long it was until I read it a second time.

The area next to the girl, is flat, where someone once stood. The ground is clear of any vegetation, and signs of bare feet are erased by a soft but persistent wind. A dry, voice is heard coming from behind the girl. "Wendy."
This verse is not quite as good as the opening stanza. I feel like the comma usage, instead of helping the feel of the piece, kind of gets in the way. Mostly the comma after dry is slightly jarring, and in general the description isn't as sharp as before. Definitely still good writing, just not quite as good.


Ohio permeates and coagulates,
while he spills upward into a pink sky
where thousands of clouds drift
and create animal cracker shadows
on a pale vermillion horizon. Only the factories
see the curve of the earth, and we've nothing
but factories here, the mountains left us
along time ago.
Caruncular beaks fall, imitating nuclear bombs,
Spreading a perihelion pesticide over the open
wounds that line like threads across
the cotton rip of Montgomery County.

This is excellent and could probably stand as a poem by itself. It's nice to read something with sophisticated vocabulary that doesn't sound all forced.

Wendy's knees collapse and she falls onto her side. The gown is flat on the ground as the wind only blows in weak bursts. A cold hand comes down to her shoulders and casts a shadow on one of the filigree patterned flowers adorning her white dress, now coated in a thin layer of dirt and hay. The hand grabs, and squeezes softly. The fingers leave a vague, hue of a pink on the seam of her dress, where the shoulder meets the sleeves. Her lips are trembling and her pupils are dialated, a violent storm from the north approaches and she is picked up off the dry ground and brought inside.
Again, not much to criticize. You do a good job of painting an image of the scene without it being wordy or there being too much description.

She sleeps the rest of the day, until an early morning, where the ground is rolling over from black to blue to pink, and when she wakes up, her dress is on a metal hanger close to her bed. It is clean from the wash, and it is still warm from the dryer. She puts the dress back on, and she walks slowly to the screen door and weakly pushes it open. Her slow crawl to the middle patch of clear ground...where she will wait for the rest of the day.


It's just an excellent work really. It's either very poetic prose or poetry in paragraph form, either way it was enjoyable to read.

Crit for a crit?