#1
Poem. The title is word-play, not bad English.


Hemispheres and latitudes turn on their heads
and embrace one another. An incision,
so precise it gains second glances,
splits the subject in two. A gasp then,
so faint it could be mistaken for a sigh
made by a lover in the deep still of the night,
echoes a softness; a pillow on a padded wall.

Inside, the prize. Innocence, in a sense,
takes the form of many figures and eights,
a pair of harmlessness. An indication with
a crimson-gloved finger shows the damage,
darkness where health should be. A bold suggestion
that the subject suffered terribly, and another
gasp, another made from a sigh.
The voice of Man; smoking kills.
The voice of Child; so does time,
we still like to keep it.

#4
Quote by Dæmönika

Hemispheres and latitudes turn on their heads
and embrace one another. An incision,
so precise it gains second glances,
When you said 'an incision' I thought you were referring to the 'hemispheres and latitudes' saying that that's what they were. Getting the idea afterwards, it's obviously not, but it could be clearer.
splits the subject in two. A gasp then,
so faint it could be mistaken for a sigh
made by a lover in the deep still of the night,
echoes a softness; a pillow on a padded wall.
lovely

Inside, the prize. Innocence, in a sense,
takes the form of many figures and eights,
a pair of harmlessness. An indication with
harmlessnesses, surely?
a crimson-gloved finger shows the damage,
darkness where health should be. A bold suggestion
that the subject suffered terribly, and another
gasp, another made from a sigh.
The voice of Man; smoking kills.
The voice of Child; so does time,
we still like to keep it.

an ending that so easily could've been blatent but worked well. Just a slight point that it doesn't work 100%; you don't really 'keep' smoking.


Your pieces usually pass over me somewhat, I'm afraid, but this really didn't. Loved it.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#5
Thanks peeps. On a side note, this is the first thing I've written about my grandmother's death to emphysema since she died last November. I'll get to your writings tomorrow and make any changes to this piece accordingly.
#6
This is gorgeous. I am still in the process of understanding every lines relation to your theme, which I, insidently, didn't think was about death from disease. But thats the beauty of writing.
Once again, gorgeous.

Digitally Clean
#7
Hemispheres and latitudes turn on their heads
and embrace one another. An incision,
so precise it gains second glances,
splits the subject in two. A gasp then,
so faint it could be mistaken for a sigh
made by a lover in the deep still of the night,
echoes a softness; a pillow on a padded wall.

Inside, the prize. Innocence, in a sense,
takes the form of many figures and eights,
a pair of harmlessness. An indication with
a crimson-gloved finger shows the damage,
darkness where health should be. A bold suggestion
that the subject suffered terribly, and another
gasp, another made from a sigh.
The voice of Man; smoking kills.
The voice of Child; so does time,
we still like to keep it.


Subtlety in quasi-gothic poetry is an artform unto itself, and you are well on your way to being it's van Gogh. "a pair of harmlessness" Is beautiful and I capitalise is because beauty does not exist without being.

The flaw in the repetition of sighs is not a worrisome one, if indeed it is at all, but I tend to think that "another" and any word said recently before hurts like a papercut you can ignore after a moment relative to a tortoise's lifetime.

The last couple of lines echo brilliance, but forfeit your crown of subtlety. It's worth it, however, and is a deserved hallmark to Derek Vineyard. Keep it up; I like it.
#8
i thought it was beautiful.

the ending irritated me a little, simply because (as digup said) "it" sounds off. using a pronoun in place of "smoking" sounds odd. however clever it may be, it still sounds awkward. could work a thousand different ways e.g. "we continue".
#9
Well well well deserved. I'd still love to see that ending sorted.

There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#12
'grats.

Deserved WotM, which isn't somethnig I say often.
I owe a ton of people critiques.

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

I have trouble keeping track.
#13
Well deserved.

"we still like to keep it."
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


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

#19
Very, very good.

I really respect people who can pull off, as Spike puts it, "quasi-gothic poetry." It really is an art form, and not one that many people have any talent for.

While I didn't form a lot of mental images from this (and that's usually what draws me into a poem) since you write with a lot of abstractions, the language itself was absolutely beautiful--fluid and breathy...while being ponderous, carrying weight.

In short, I thought this rocked.
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.