#1
When I was younger
I fell through the pages,
where titles were phases of chapters of days,
and life came in second
to words made of brail.
When true feeling felt frail
those other dimensions were there for the taking.
They once had a name; I called them
everything.
Reality just for me
in wonderlands of sun and sand,
chasing tales of white-backed whales.
Whispering sweet nothings
to my imagination
and imagining its whispers back
nothing could be so sweet.

I wore black to every epilogue,
cried at every end,
because that dismal final period
brought death to all my friends.

Then one day I fell in love
with a girl who's words were blue.
She wrapped herself around my mind,
wore only my most private memories
and then called me a tease.
With every stanza our love would grow
without the chains or laws of prose,
our love would grow.
Until
there came a time
when sugar-coated,
pretty rhymes were lost.

"My love does not come without accost,
you must now challenge my deeper side."

"Is that a metaphor?" I replied.

Sad at me, with allusive eyes
so filled with long scenes of goodbyes.
I cut in before she broke it off
and asked her for some empathy,
but she could only pity me.


Nowadays, looking back
I see where I'd been wrong;
that pretty girl who held my heart
was the metaphor all along.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
#2
That was really good I like the story behind it, you should throw in a chorus tho. :p
#3
I particularly enjoyed the rhythm to this, it was well written in most places, and had some clever ideas.

A couple things slightly bothered me though...

Quote by Billyjson

When true feeling felt frail



That line in particular stood out to me a little because of the rhyme, felt slightly forced and unnatural, and was one of the rare times I think the internal rhymes/assonance
etc felt slightly awkward

you must now challenge my deeper side
again what i said earlier.


Sad at me, with allusive eyes
so filled with long scenes of goodbyes


I think that would sound better rhythmically as "scenes of long goodbyes". Admittedly that changes the meaning, but what you have there sounded a little off.

I am mostly nitpicking though, I did quite enjoy reading it, particularly the third stanza. Very Donne-esque.

Good work.
#4
Quote by Billyjson
When I was younger
I fell through the pages,
where titles were phases of chapters of days,
and life came in second
to words made of brail.
When true feeling felt frail Agreed with other poster, this line should work, but somehow its awkward. Like the content and like the word frail though
those other dimensions were there for the taking.
They once had a name; I called them
everything.
Reality just for me
in wonderlands of sun and sand,
chasing tales of white-backed whales.
Whispering sweet nothings
to my imagination
and imagining its whispers back
nothing could be so sweet.

I wore black to every epilogue, terrific line
cried at every end,
because that dismal final period don't like period here for some reason. closing? breath? syllable?
brought death to all my friends.

Then one day I fell in love
with a girl who's words were blue. whose. Don't know if I like the phrasing in this line, maybe 'with a girl who spoke in blue'
She wrapped herself around my mind,
wore only my most private memories
and then called me a tease.
With every stanza our love would grow
without the chains or laws of prose,
our love would grow.
Until
there came a time
when sugar-coated,
pretty rhymes were lost. Overall this verse isn't as melodic as the wonderful first verse, save for the nice grow/prose lines

"My love does not come without accost, I'm confused here, do you mean 'a cost' or do you really mean 'accost'? If its the latter it borders on poetic and meaningful...but I'm not 100% certain I grasp that meaning
you must now challenge my deeper side."

"Is that a metaphor?" I replied.

Sad at me, with allusive eyes
so filled with long scenes of goodbyes.
I cut in before she broke it off
and asked her for some empathy,
but she could only pity me.


Nowadays, looking back
I see where I'd been wrong;
that pretty girl who held my heart
was the metaphor all along.


I really like this piece, especially the beginning verse which is excellent in every way. By the end I was little disoriented, but that could be me. I feel like this is a piece I would read in class, and almost understand. Then when the teacher discussed it, I'd grasp exactly what the author meant and appreciate their technique in conveying that message.
#5
Thank you for the crits. Will get back soon, not up to it right now.

accost was intentional. Glad it you found it 'borderline poetic'.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
#6
Ha ha I meant it in a positive way of course, although if it was ever read aloud that bit of clever trickery would obviously be lost.
#8
I liked it. The first stanza is excellent, such wonderful imagery. However, I do agree with ATM* that it gets a tad bit disorienting as it goes on, but nonetheless, wonderful piece.
Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play.
#9
- "to words made of brail." - Awesome.


Then one day I fell in love
with a girl who's words were blue.
She wrapped herself around my mind,
wore only my most private memories
and then called me a tease.
With every stanza our love would grow
without the chains or laws of prose,
our love would grow.
Until
there came a time
when sugar-coated,
pretty rhymes were lost.


This was entirely beautiful.

You treaded a fine line between schmatlz' and poetic anger... you did not fall.

Digitally Clean
#10
Thank you very much. I've been slacking on crits due to a crazy work schedule, but I put in my two weeks notice two weeks ago from tomorrow, so I'll have plenty of time to get them all back in a day or so.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.