So, uh, here's the events of my 24 hours in a nutshell. No point really, just want to share a little about my life. These are all excerpts taken from a longer piece I wrote today, so if there are some phrases that are off its probably because it connected with a thematic or stylistic trend in the piece (such as cataloging) in which I chose to cut most of it out. C$C.

Fragments of April 16th 2008 (Parts 1-11)

Last night I heard a cat
Underneath my window
She howled,
Like her fur was on fire
With a beautiful light.
And in my bed I moaned
with a disembodied moan
That echoed around the room
And then seeped back into my body
Like a ghost.

Will you be my feeling-keeper?
And keep all the memories of me safe.
Ice cream at seven?
So we can have another one of those
awkward goodbye hugs that I've tallied in my head.
Your scarf is soft,
your pen is nearly out of ink
but, there's something holy here.

Sitting above the school buses' erratic purr,
cracking jokes of homosexuals and
one-armed white girls giving stub-jobs.
I watched you with interest as you attacked my sports knowledge
with a glare of absolute godliness.

Bumper boats, laser tag and a neat go-cart graveyard later
I found myself back to you, wrestling in his arms
like you were a small bear, or wayward kite
being crucified by the wind.
You were at the whim of his touch.
I sat on the stairs and waited for a sour patch kid.

On the way home I put on my headphones
and blocked out the world. And watched.
As your black and white jacket
melted into his cigarette smelling parka
and the two of you slept,
sinking further behind the leather-backed seat
with each lurch of the machine.
The two of you fell like a sunset.
His hair glistened blond in the refraction
of your broken window pane's cracks
while your black strands tied into the glow.

One hour in and you had melted completely
into him, like you two were angels,
or some sort of miracle, the kind
we're all trying to get to.
I closed my eyes and focused
In, on the shape of your bodies.
Un-fucking-dying friendship,
and that was that. So simple.

The tableau,
Of your two bodies
Like a night of pure fear
into the unresting morning,
touched me.
I loved it.
It was beautiful. And I laughed.
It was so perfect. And I laughed.
Then we got back
You both got up
I went soul searching,
Finding nothing,
ate some pizza,
almost broke up with my girlfriend,
and practiced baseball with the worst team
in the pre-season league.
I then caught a bus home
and wrote all this down.

But you. I love
the detached idea of you,
the metaphor you are for every
Forbidden flavor, humor, and
that I cannot have.
I love the thought of you
mocking every time my
eyelashes bat with
your fucking holy
goddamn something beautiful
or whatever you want to call it.

On the right hand side
a man lays face up on a stretcher,
solid and liquid,
like a shooting star.
Blood pours from his forhead
which is supported by a neckbrace.
He's dead, I hope.
The driver said it looks like
He got hit by a bus.
Twenty feet away theres two men
smoking cigarettes
and talking about the Dodgers.

But that picture of him and I,
of you and him,
of people and people,
of angels and angels
melding into one another,
fills me with such a
such a tremendous
that I never want to let it go.
And really, I never could
relieve myself of today if I tried,
You're all too fucking holy.
Or at least,
too goddamn beautiful.

Oh, and I love this pen,
running out of ink as it is.
And at some point I gave your
scarf back, but I'll remember that
complete softness,
at least
Until it comes back to collect me.
Last edited by #1 synth at Apr 17, 2008,
Really nice presentation of events. Providing I get time later on, I'll run my eyes over it properly.
I'm unsure how to critique this piece. The stanza that stuck out the most was number 3. What I enjoyed about it was that is represents our generations current state. I believe that if you focused the main idea of this piece more to one part a lot more would come out of it. Now, I do understand it is a days events, but to describe a whole day in 11 stanzas is a difficult task. Some of the imagery wasn't great, but I saw some parts deffinately gleam. Elaborate more on certain areas. It would be great if you took number three and wrote around that subject all together. I know this sounds like a negative critique, but it realy isn't. You just have to take a chisel and turn the solid stone into a statue.

Could you take a look at mine possibly... https://www.ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=840229 Thanks.
Quote by ottoavist

i suppose there's a chance
i'm just a litte too shallow to consider
that maybe i've been a little more eager
each day to wake up and take a shower
brush my teeth and smile for the mirror
okay, but this isnt about our generation. It wasnt representative of anything. There was power in her stare and there was fear in mine, and that was what happened. I'm not trying to describe an entire day, I agree, there's too much. All I was trying to do was to tell a completely true retelling of emotion and had no intention to comment on society or bs generalizations like our "generation."

Thanks a lot though freshy and I will be sure to get to yours soon
This was a good read, Dyl. There wasn't anything that I could pick out that was overly weak other than it was what it was... which while a decent read wasn't overly insightful. I was planning on going through and tearing into it... but it wouldn't do any good. I'd say the same thing over and over, "This was nice... but it just needs some more content other than setting scenes and then skipping away from them." But that's what this piece was supposed to be... so I won't complain. I'll hit your next one in more detail. Have a second bump, on me. "Bartender... one for him please. On the rocks."

There's a lot I liked about this piece. I thought that the fact all the stanzas could stand on their own as little separate poems worked well, I thought the progression throughout the piece in regards to a time line, or at least a line of thought, it worked very well. It was very well constructed, and the content held through, even if it was a bit long.

I thought that it was very honest, It felt genuine and personal, but didn't feel like you just wrote it off hand. I thought that it was thought-through and that everything was themed well and backed by a deeper meaning.

The only thing that bothered me was that with such a long piece, I thought you could have utilised the structure better, in the sense that every stanza basically was structured differently, and you could have used that to highlight the more important stanzas, or at least the focus of the piece, by making those more special. By making each stanza different I think you lost the effect a little.

All in all though, it was a solid read and I enjoyed it.
This is not a pipe
I agree with Carmel on the stanza thing.

I would have muched loved thi smore if they were more individual. Have you ever read that one by Wendy Cope, where she is going through the tages of a disastrous relationship? Some are simple four lines stanzas, some are a few lines long, others are limericks; it makes th epiece fresher. I do strongly feel that the reptition in strucutre in a piece this long brought this tediousness to it, especially on second and third reads.

The actual content I enjoyed quite deal. in fact over the last month or so I've really begun to enjoy your writing, I think you've developed a great deal Dyl and this piece I think shows it. I can't really find much I really dislike (actually, "tableau" can **** off) which is, well, good I guess. It seems you've dropped the parts of your writing that I always felt were impersonations and pretensions, and I really am liking what I'm reading from you nowadays.

Still, just have a think about the reptitive strcuture here. Could be great with more innovation and freshness.

Could you lookee at my latest in my sig?

Thanks if, you know, can.

I share the same response as Carmel. It helps the feel immensely.

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