#1
In best-guessed memories:
When automobiles had cut-glass vases
and odorous air surrendered to the freshest daisies;
When disputes were settled with shotgun shells and smiles,
fame was passed out like some incurable flu,
from blackened tongue to beckoned ear.
And we,
......We held hands like candles,
love flickering in the winter wind,
brickle wax dripped across our laced shoes
like ice cream from a child.
And you watched our brittle breath haunt us:
a ghost chained to this leaden ball called life.

We traded lies in coffee houses shaped like coffins,
slowed into road sides, letting dead things
mattress under us, all decay and love and musk.
And I slipped my heart into a time capsule,
spaded it into the ground.
But I close this diary like a casket:
That was then, this is now.
I owe a ton of people critiques.

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

I have trouble keeping track.
#2
The images here are beautiful. There's not really a whole lot to say. The only thing that didn't sit right with me was that the first six lines didn't really relate to the piece as a whole.

The next couple of lines were not incredible, but everything after was great. I'm probably not doing you much good, but this is all I can think of to say.
#3
I really like this. Impressive is about all I can say. I particularly like the way you transitioned into the second phrase. Very nice.
Quote by 40oz2freeedom
just ask her to touch her toes naked....shell never expect whats next
#4
Quote by Fly, Marlowe
In best-guessed memories:
When automobiles had cut-glass vases
and odorous air surrendered to the freshest daisies;
When disputes were settled with shotgun shells and smiles,
fame was passed out like some incurable flu,
from blackened tongue to beckoned ear.


Your ideas seemed rammed together here. Let them breath a little bit.


Pretty much I just don't like your punctuation and the way you go from line to line.

I do like the overall feeling of the piece though, your imagery is certainly effective.
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

#5
We traded lies in coffee houses shaped like coffins,
slowed into road sides, letting dead things
mattress under us, all decay and love and musk.
And I slipped my heart into a time capsule,
spaded it into the ground.
But I close this diary like a casket:
That was then, this is now.

It's Seattle, it's Fraiser, it's Hinton! This is great. The imagery is gorgeous, and true - coffin shaped coffee houses aren't a thing to be imagined, they're quite real, and it's always nice when someone points out the real in the context of reality (read: not the same thing). Trading lies - I like this - a lot.

Best guessed memories can be the best kind, next to vague, I was here before memories - and you were there - we're in a business, afterall, and holding hands like eternal sunshine with comedians at their dramatic best on a depressing beach with snow.

You've a beautiful piece here whose flow stutters only in lines of brickle wax, perhaps it is my incurable tongue flu. Great. Scream it from bell towers.