#1
so i apologize beforehand about the form of this following piece, in that from one 'idea' to another, each a sentence long, i separated my sentences with just a comma, and thus may make for a bit of a 'lot of work to read through all this' sort of vibe.. but i've seen some good pieces on here that have been these chunks of very solid prose, and i'm not saying this fall s into that category, but i think that it might be a postable piece in the meantime (and most mis-spellings are meant for, i think)


Turkey Sticking Out Of The Wall
(he's back on the sauce and better than ever)

Turkey sticking out of the wall, a loser's doorway plastered with toilet paper crusted on the edges, barely holding onto the parachute as pushed out of the airplane, looking for friends who aren't there, based out of Albequerque and looking for a home with a wife and some kids and some money and drugs/guns/lawyers stashed away, sitting in bed and perfectly content with a dateline story about a murderer, looking for me will on ly get you miserys, primmed up with a purple harnequin, hair pinn turns every part of the way to school at seven am in the morning- lot's of sad stories around these them parts, give us a little room to breathe we're past capacity and bursting supremely well and there's no reason to quell such a reverly as we sit with taps full of hops and strings to be plucked, had a ways up to go on the ladder but things started to get shakey so we just gave up turned around and watched the ladder fall a second after the last man got off, will you come over here and teach me the best way to do the roomba withought a plastic grin stapled to my face?,

we told that guy about Amsterdam and he continued to tell us about some bull**** band that neither of us gave a **** about, without a way to the top we only figured out the way through a little bit of drug use but it's not that mu ch different than other people who do the same exact thing, let me up from the couch with which all these cigarette burns make me question why it hasn't been thrown away to myself quick, implored a lad that these things wouldn't make you absquiesque and fully responsible for all outcomes and therebyfore actions done upon requisition'd request as per Mr. Dick Freebird, she's the rough edge of a garden hoe that's been put to work in the garden all day and then laid to rest in the corner of the garage where it sits and prays, little trinkets and Chinese made tchotchkes juts brighted up my day and expanding on that a little bit of the night as well like outside the house was hell and I was living in heaven until I had to go out and get groceries, i'll carry you over the threshold,

we've been here a few times haven't we – you with a knife and a cast iron frying pan and me with my poetry, you'll get under me and surely work your way in but i'll win because i'll be there the whole time you're working your way into me and that's the best part, would love to have you over sometime but me mum and dad aren't the kind of folks that you just go home to and then five feet away from them through two centimerters of plaster act out the scene from Trainspotting, i've heard of pennies from heaven but what about old boots or pieces of as phalt?, can you please do your work through smoke a little ways away from me? Your smoke is getting into my eyes and it burns and has this whole time, tell me though mister shouldn't we sometimes put ourselves in the position in being in direct dis-agreement with someone we've only had a handful or two of words with sitting next to us on the bar stool?, he's back on the sauce and better than ever, regail you of tales but only once because i'm not smoothe enough to make the transition between putting stars in your eyes once

and doing it all over again, we've had our way around here once or twice before but now we're guests so no turning on the stove for hotkives this time, you'll find me in the same place as fame- which is a rock and a guy's head, it just keeps getting better and better until you run low on vitamin C and kool aid and safe places to trip, hiding out on the rooftop makes it seem so peaceful out here until we realize why we're up here in the first place, and in the end all we want is to be able to fall asleep peacefully and not have to worry about the bhomb.
Last edited by parkt921k at Jun 11, 2008,
#2
Holy crap. This is big.

I'll be back tomorrow... I'm off to bed. I'm intrigued already.

Nice title.
O! music: Click (Youtube)


^ Click to see an acoustic arrangement of Ke$ha's 'Your Love is my Drug' - everyone's favourite song.
#3
Hey, sorry for not getting back... I really am.

I'll do this tomorrow asap. It's 10 pm right now and I have school tomorrow.

Thanks sooooo much for the critique on mine. That must have taken you ages to type. I really appreciate it.

I think, if you're looking for more critiques, break this into paragraphs... it's REALLY hard to follow where you're reading without them.

I know that's the style... but two-way street... etc... make it a wee bit more accessible for the average reader.

just on a quick skim through now, your vocab is impressive, and your flow is very nice.

I'll be back. PM me if I don't.

That shouldn't be an issue though.

Sorry for the double post. I would've edited this in, but I wasn't sure whether you'd read, it, or whether you checked pm's.

I'll edit in my crit tomorrow so as not to bump this again.

edit:


Turkey Sticking Out Of The Wall
(he's back on the sauce and better than ever)

Turkey sticking out of the wall, a loser's doorway plastered with toilet paper crusted on the edges, barely holding onto the parachute as pushed out of the airplane, looking for friends who aren't there, based out of Albequerque and looking for a home with a wife and some kids and some money and drugs/guns/lawyers stashed away, sitting in bed and perfectly content with a dateline story about a murderer, looking for me will on ly get you miserys, primmed up with a purple harnequin, hair pinn turns every part of the way to school at seven am in the morning- lot's of sad stories around these them parts, give us a little room to breathe we're past capacity and bursting supremely well and there's no reason to quell such a reverly as we sit with taps full of hops and strings to be plucked, had a ways up to go on the ladder but things started to get shakey so we just gave up turned around and watched the ladder fall a second after the last man got off, will you come over here and teach me the best way to do the roomba withought a plastic grin stapled to my face?,

I've decided this would be a lot better if you broke it up properly. The commas and thought-train thing really harm this piece more than help it tbh. I'm confused as to why you're intentionally spelling words wrong... I can't get the reason from within the meaning of the piece, which, btw, eludes me completely. You have some beautiful lines hidden amongst this though, I've bolded my favourite. I'm just underwhelmed by the way you've actually set it out etc.


we told that guy about Amsterdam and he continued to tell us about some bull**** band that neither of us gave a **** about, without a way to the top we only figured out the way through a little bit of drug use but it's not that mu ch different than other people who do the same exact thing, let me up from the couch with which all these cigarette burns make me question why it hasn't been thrown away to myself quick, implored a lad that these things wouldn't make you absquiesque and fully responsible for all outcomes and therebyfore actions done upon requisition'd request as per Mr. Dick Freebird, she's the rough edge of a garden hoe that's been put to work in the garden all day and then laid to rest in the corner of the garage where it sits and prays, little trinkets and Chinese made tchotchkes juts brighted up my day and expanding on that a little bit of the night as well like outside the house was hell and I was living in heaven until I had to go out and get groceries, i'll carry you over the threshold,

The swearing is unnecessary. I'm so confused though. I don't understand this at all - maybe that's the idea, maybe not. I'd love to see something a bit more accessible from you, because I can tell you know how to write. The comma's kill this. I'm sure of it now.

we've been here a few times haven't we – you with a knife and a cast iron frying pan and me with my poetry, you'll get under me and surely work your way in but i'll win because i'll be there the whole time you're working your way into me and that's the best part, would love to have you over sometime but me mum and dad aren't the kind of folks that you just go home to and then five feet away from them through two centimerters of plaster act out the scene from Trainspotting, i've heard of pennies from heaven but what about old boots or pieces of as phalt?, can you please do your work through smoke a little ways away from me? Your smoke is getting into my eyes and it burns and has this whole time, tell me though mister shouldn't we sometimes put ourselves in the position in being in direct dis-agreement with someone we've only had a handful or two of words with sitting next to us on the bar stool?, he's back on the sauce and better than ever, regail you of tales but only once because i'm not smoothe enough to make the transition between putting stars in your eyes once

This is the best stanza IMO. There's a lot of worthless stuff here though too. Not so much the content, but the way you've worded stuff and dragged it out so painfully. Don't take it the wrong way, because this stanza proves to me that you're a talented writer. I'm just majorly disgruntled by your spelling, phrasing and punctuation.

and doing it all over again, we've had our way around here once or twice before but now we're guests so no turning on the stove for hotkives this time, you'll find me in the same place as fame- which is a rock and a guy's head, it just keeps getting better and better until you run low on vitamin C and kool aid and safe places to trip, hiding out on the rooftop makes it seem so peaceful out here until we realize why we're up here in the first place, and in the end all we want is to be able to fall asleep peacefully and not have to worry about the bhomb.


Nice ending. Still the spelling messes with me.

For what this is... it's not too bad. Sorry I can't really give you much of a crit, and it took way too long. I'll make sure I make it up to you on your next piece.
O! music: Click (Youtube)


^ Click to see an acoustic arrangement of Ke$ha's 'Your Love is my Drug' - everyone's favourite song.
Last edited by Snowblind 911 at Jun 13, 2008,