#1
I'm proud of this, rip it to shreds. Yes, it's a song. I shan't keep inserting the chorus because it just breaks up the flow of the verses. c4c.

I Don't Suffer Gladly (Like You Suffer Fools)

Yes, adults throw and children catch,
The music now (a burnt out match)
Guitars without their strings attached
are mumbling.

While men are dressed in hats, wearing ties,
dressed for storms of business lies,
where coffee tastes of last goodbyes
(brewed by supporters in disguise, the wives)
they can't create or improvise
but to their surprise, are idolized
by institutions which stand, both thighs,
firmly planted in pockets of wise,
hearing both the subtle cries
of prisoners,

And the generals commands, a broken chain
where those on top are those to gain,
and those below before the rain
lie crying, soaked in personal guilt or fame
(no less no more than recited name)
what was once competition is now just
game, which

When back to front, is therein the fall
of not the bigots but the all,
distressed by what they see, they stall
running much too fast, they crawl,
abolish the racist through the rules
they thrive on.

And rattle-sticks, the children's toys,
manipulate the girls and boys,
symbolize the men that men employ,
symbolize the men that men destroy,
the men we avoid, who
before the system, are unemployed,
with nothing to believe in.

They begin to shrink, they turn and blink,
Sit at desks and start to think,
The media arrives and, with trusting wink,
steals their ink, Jumps out the window,
they run behind, follow in sync,
fall fifteen flights and land in drink,
and the depression starts.

(And when does it ever really end?)

Gambling men rely on dice,
like business men rely on price,
and accurate legal advice,
but chances are taken and chances suffice,
with decisions made at risk.

While master thieves steal keepers keys,
open doors, terrified, drop to their knees,
standing before them (pleased):
the men that they have once deceived,
they've grown, aged in expertise
they chase the thieves out through
forest streets and city trees,
they stop to sneeze,
and blow out christ.

(With a college full of social thinkers,
Snow filled streets, heavy drinkers,
midnight eyes and midnight fingers
that taste like smoke.)

And homeless men approach so fast,
ask for time when time has passed,
ask for logic when logic lasts,
ask for mobility in social class
that can't be kept forever.

with speech and book, paper and pen,
you cannot silence words of men,
but when a man cannot listen a man cannot hear,
though, never before and never again,
tonight is a time of which and when,
we can take careful note of
complaints.
and aim to make careful
change.

But for now, too cold to see the sights,
We book a bed, we climb the flights,
To rooms that lay at massive heights
and the city lies behind the glass.

The sheets dirty, the window is small
but we sit all night and watch short and tall
in fights and falls and desperate crawls
before we realise:
we're a league apart in an urban sprawl
of freezing streets and crumbling walls
where those who never made it laugh
at those who lost it all.


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Last edited by skagitup at Mar 10, 2008,
#3
Damn! I hoped to read this and be able to tear it apart, but I loved it too much. Damn you Alex, I want my REVENGE!!!
#4
Quote by skagitup
I'm proud of this, rip it to shreds. Yes, it's a song. I shan't keep inserting the chorus because it just breaks up the flow of the verses. c4c.

I Don't Suffer Gladly (Like You Suffer Fools)

Yes, adults throw and children catch,
The music now (a burnt out match)
Guitars without their strings attached
are mumbling.
(Grabbed my attention. All I have to say about this.)

While men are dressed in hats, wearing ties,
dressed for storms of business lies,
where coffee tastes of last goodbyes
(brewed by supporters in disguise, the wives)
they can't create or improvise
but to their surprise, are idolized
by institutions which stand, both thighs,
firmly planted in pockets of wise,
hearing both the subtle cries
of prisoners,
(Nice element of surprise at the end there. Also I like all the rhyming, Im sure it would annoy some people, but the Dylan fanatic that I am. I found it tasteful. I like the way you tied them all together and weren't just rhyming to rhyme.)

And the generals commands, a broken chain
where those on top are those to gain,
and those below before the rain
lie crying, soaked in personal guilt or fame
(no less no more than recited name)
what was once competition is now just
game, which
(Typo at the end? If not it seems to sudden, surprising, but not in a good way. Now the rhyming is starting to sound a little forced and a little less flowy than the last verse.)

When back to front, is therein the fall
of not the bigots but the all,
distressed by what they see, they stall
running much too fast, they crawl,
abolish the racist through the rules
they thrive on.
(The first four lines are complete garbage. Sorry to be so blunt, but they serve no purpose they dont even build up to the "attack" so to speak. They are fluffy and have no meaning. Replace them.)

And rattle-sticks, the children's toys,
manipulate the girls and boys,
symbolize the men that men employ,
symbolize the men that men destroy,
the men we avoid, who
before the system, are unemployed,
with nothing to believe in.
(And the fire returns. This is biting I love it. An original way to be bitter)

They begin to shrink, they turn and blink,
Sit at desks and start to think,
The media arrives and, with trusting wink,
steals their ink, Jumps out the window,
they run behind, follow in sync,
fall fifteen flights and land in drink,
and the depression starts.
(This song is really getting hit or miss here. Lines 3-5 are worded weird. I know they have a purpose, but that purpose is overshadowed by the clumsy wording.)

(And when does it ever really end?)
(Love it)

Gambling men rely on dice,
like business men rely on price,
and accurate legal advice,
but chances are taken and chances suffice,
with decisions made at risk.
(First two lines=Fantastic. But then you ruin it, the rhyming sounds forced here, now I think you are rhyming just to rhyme. Surprise me on this one, dont rhyme after those first two lines.)

While master thieves steal keepers keys,
open doors, terrified, drop to their knees,
standing before them (pleased):
the men that they have once deceived,
they've grown, aged in expertise
they chase the thieves out through
forest streets and city trees,
they stop to sneeze,
and blow out christ.
(Good. Ending was great. The rest was just good. I disliked the "they chased the thieves....and city trees" lines. Sounded pretty cliche to me.)

(With a college full of social thinkers,
Snow filled streets, heavy drinkers,
midnight eyes and midnight fingers
that taste like smoke.)
(Started out nice, but spiraled downhill after the first two lines. I hated the last two lines. Can't put my finger on why though.)

And homeless men approach so fast,
ask for time when time has passed,
ask for logic when logic lasts,
ask for mobility in social class
that can't be kept forever.
(Nice twist.)

with speech and book, paper and pen,
you cannot silence words of men,
but when a man cannot listen a man cannot hear,
though, never before and never again,
tonight is a time of which and when,
we can take careful note of
complaints.
and aim to make careful
change.
(This song keeps going back and forth and doesn't seem to really be going anywhere at this point. Its just a bunch of rhymes and social satire to me.)

But for now, too cold to see the sights,
We book a bed, we climb the flights,
To rooms that lay at massive heights
and the city lies behind the glass.
(Is there even a reason for this stanza?)

The sheets dirty, the window is small
but we sit all night and watch short and tall
in fights and falls and desperate crawls
before we realise:
we're a league apart in an urban sprawl
of freezing streets and crumbling walls
where those who never made it laugh
at those who lost it all.
(Hmmm. I was hoping for a bit of a better ending after reading all that. The ending was just....as much as i hate to say it.....kind of....cliche. I mean there was all this "singing" to build up to...nothing. Ive heard about the people that lost it all too many times before, yes you did it in a new way but this piece just didnt quite do it for me. I didnt feel anything. Although I liked lots of the stanzas The piece as a whole doesnt seem that strong to me.)


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Sorry to sound like such a dick, but this is definately not my favorite from you. I normally like your plays on words and social commentary. But this time something just fell flat to me.