#1
Title's undecided. It was going to be "I Caught You Walking Through Walls" since the piece that used that title is now defunct....but meh. Perhaps that will be decided in the morning.


I do not trust the spirit.

The half-empty kids weigh down the hall,
they try to quiet their shoes to listen for
the bad news, and the whispered wars;
To know if they can be half-full.
And the honest-eyed boy in the parking lot,
sold the speaker his soul, it's all he's got;
in hopes that he'll get his shot
with his voice and the six strings he bought.

Now allow me, to reminisce
and lie about it, more or less:

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
But she looks terribly well on the wall,
next to Poe, Plath, Lovecraft and all;
Prithee, please forget
any semblance of normalness
chalk it up to coincidence.


The no-nonsense girl on the plastic bench
found her future in a cookie for ninety cents.
She lives her life on a paper slip
that smells of soy and decadence.
While the only thing on TV
is collected dust and make-believe.
So much lust, so little screen
In space, no one can hear you dream.


Now allow me to reminisce,
and lie about it, more or less:

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
But she looks terribly well on the wall,
next to Poe, Plath, Lovecraft and all;
Prithee, please forget
any semblance of normalness
chalk it up to coincidence.

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
They're doing terribly well when they live,
but well is awfully relative.


We're ambulance hitchhiking across the lane,
feeling out the lines on which our bones should break.
We've a list of our favorite aches,
you say you only need to live 'til yesterday.
Now you're made-up in your Sunday best:
Dramamine and loneliness;
and I look at the breadth of ICU West.
You take a chance, I take a breath.


__________

I'm still trying to work out where all the chorus will be, etc.
I owe a ton of people critiques.

If you're one of them, please PM me.

I have trouble keeping track.
#2
wowowow, im very impressed here, you have a distinct style which is both witty and honest at the same time. I gather this to be a story of three different people with a final verse conclusion(which i was blown away by btw) I have to say the "no none sense" girl verse was not my favorite, to many allusions to the fortune cookie. very good write, maybe cut the poets? A+
#4
Thanks for the kind words =]
I owe a ton of people critiques.

If you're one of them, please PM me.

I have trouble keeping track.
#5
I do not trust the spirit.

The half-empty kids weigh down the hall,
they try to quiet their shoes to listen for
the bad news, and the whispered wars;
To know if they can be half-full.
And the honest-eyed boy in the parking lot,
sold the speaker his soul, it's all he's got;
in hopes that he'll get his shot
with his voice and the six strings he bought.
i liked the near-rhyme play in the first four
of for and wars
three-and-a-half ots in a row became tiring.


Now allow me, to reminisce
and lie about it, more or less:
this is right on the line,
somewhat clever. almost overdone.
you're introducing the next section.
if it was a full rhyme,
i would have kicked
you in the groin.


She said she's no better dead,
oddest phrase i've seen in a while.
this reads like a future result of better off, dead.
i didn't care much for it.

though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
But she looks terribly well on the wall,
next to Poe, Plath, Lovecraft and all;
Prithee, please forget
any semblance of normalness
chalk it up to coincidence.


The no-nonsense girl on the plastic bench
found her future in a cookie for ninety cents.
She lives her life on a paper slip
that smells of soy and decadence.
While the only thing on TV
is collected dust and make-believe.
So much lust, so little screen
In space, no one can hear you dream.


Now allow me to reminisce,
and lie about it, more or less:

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
But she looks terribly well on the wall,
next to Poe, Plath, Lovecraft and all;
Prithee, please forget
any semblance of normalness
chalk it up to coincidence.

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
They're doing terribly well when they live,
but well is awfully relative.


We're ambulance hitchhiking across the lane,
feeling out the lines on which our bones should break.
We've a list of our favorite aches,
you say you only need to live 'til yesterday.
Now you're made-up in your Sunday best:
Dramamine and loneliness;
and I look at the breadth of ICU West.
You take a chance, I take a breath.
breadth in the previous line plays poorly
against breath at the end.

sorry for the half-assed crit.
i didn't connect with this one
well enough to do a proper job of it.
looking forward to your next.
Meadows
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#6
Same as SYK, goddammit, other than that I'm afraid to say I actually had to read the first five or so lines five or so times because the flow was so weird.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#7
Quote by Fly, Marlowe
Title's undecided. It was going to be "I Caught You Walking Through Walls" since the piece that used that title is now defunct....but meh. Perhaps that will be decided in the morning.


I do not trust the spirit.

The half-empty kids weigh down the hall,
Good start: grabs your interest.
they try to quiet their shoes to listen for
the bad news, and the whispered wars;
Nice literay devices here, particularly the stark contrast.
To know if they can be half-full.
I like the way you have used a common term and exchanged it into something even more poetic.
And the honest-eyed boy in the parking lot,
sold the speaker his soul, it's all he's got;
in hopes that he'll get his shot
with his voice and the six strings he bought.
This last line is a bit of a mouthful; it doesn't compliment the flow. Plus, there are many metaphors in here that seem to baffle me so I will have to return to this tomorrow and hope that I will understand it clearer.


Now allow me, to reminisce
and lie about it, more or less:
Excellent.

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
Love the conversational manner of tongue here, it lends this a new edge.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
Could be reworded better.
But she looks terribly well on the wall,
Great use of the word "well" here, I derive many different options of dialoge and approach from this.
next to Poe, Plath, Lovecraft and all;
Not sure what this means.
Prithee, please forget
any semblance of normalness
chalk it up to coincidence.
Flows very well with perfectly placed vocabulary.


The no-nonsense girl on the plastic bench
found her future in a cookie for ninety cents.
Once again, you briefly send us back to a common earthly object and matter and it helps you realise this is a very a real piece.
She lives her life on a paper slip
that smells of soy and decadence.
Not sure what "soy" has in relevance to this, I'm afraid.
While the only thing on TV
is collected dust and make-believe.
Doesn't flow.
So much lust, so little screen
In space, no one can hear you dream.
Fantastically fanatical.


Now allow me to reminisce,
and lie about it, more or less:

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
But she looks terribly well on the wall,
next to Poe, Plath, Lovecraft and all;
Prithee, please forget
any semblance of normalness
chalk it up to coincidence.
A long chorus, but its very original.

She said she's no better dead,
though she appreciates the roses.
She's barely aware of the heart in her head,
this is hardly the heart that she's chosen.
They're doing terribly well when they live,
but well is awfully relative.
Cool use of the word "awfully" here and how it relates to the rest of your word choice.


We're ambulance hitchhiking across the lane,
feeling out the lines on which our bones should break.
We've a list of our favorite aches,
you say you only need to live 'til yesterday.
Now you're made-up in your Sunday best:
Dramamine and loneliness;
and I look at the breadth of ICU West.
You take a chance, I take a breath.
I'm becoming even more lost here. More reading is necessary I think.


__________

I'm still trying to work out where all the chorus will be, etc.


Great work.

Digitally Clean