The Dance of Sins

Casting sideways glances, longing for the electric chemistry
when at last eyes touch. Skin brushes against skin, rising hairs so fine,
and longings so pure. Soul brushes soul, arising emotions that have run so
deep; so pure.

The dance of sins. A meeting of creation, of redemption, of
acceptance. A cry into the night, clutched against soft sheets of innocence
lost to love.

A love held so pure in the palm of a hand so coated in macabre
sins. Unheard of desires that the heart dares to speak in the heat of
passion.

It starts with a single thought. It floods your blood and soul
until it becomes you, and you it. It distills your mind of purity, it purifies
your mind of second thoughts. It becomes the meaning of life.

Love. This treasured concept that brings about a corrupt life is
nothing more than a reprehensible deed in itself.

What a price to pay. Trading in your cherished soul, your
beating heart, your beloved life, for what other than broken dreams and
shattered promises. A price so many have paid, and so many more are
eager to hand over.

There are consequences we all must live with, even those we
never hoped to acknowledge. Often mistaken for love, these consequences
are the meaning of life. The meaning of love. Of what can be found in The
Dance of Sins.

JCobsesed wrote:Casting sideways glances, longing for the electric chemistry,
when at last eyes touch. Skin brushes against skin, raising hairs so fine,
and longings so pure. Soul brushes soul, arising emotions that have run so
deep; so pure.

The dance of sins. A meeting of creation, of redemption, of
acceptance. A cry into the night, clutched against soft sheets of innocence
lost to love.

A love held so pure in the palm of a hand, so coated in macabre
sins. Unheard of desires that the heart dares to speak in the heat of
passion.

It starts with a single thought. It floods your blood and soul
until it becomes you, and you it. It distills your mind of purity, it purifies
your mind of second thoughts. It becomes the meaning of life.

Love. This treasured concept that brings about a corrupt life is
nothing more than a reprehensible deed in itself.

What a price to pay. Trading in your cherished soul, your
beating heart, your beloved life, for what other than broken dreams and
shattered promises. A price so many have paid, and so many more are
eager to hand over.

There are consequences we all must live with, even those we
never hoped to acknowledge. Often mistaken for love, these consequences
are the meaning of life. The meaning of love. Of what can be found in The
Dance of Sins.

Intresting. It's almost like a poem but it's not. I dont know what it is. It sounds cool. Nice imagery and metaphors up the rear end.

Nice work. Boredom Woot!

It's well written and I'd probably class it as poetic prose but something's not quite right. I think you need to express the emotions more. They're there, hidden behind the metaphor of dancing but they need to be bolder. Sorry I wasn't able to help much.

Really any feedback helps. Thank you. And uh...about the whole poetic prose thing....I haven't studied poetry enough to really know what that is. Mostly I avoid poetry....so if this is it...well, cool I guess.

And I'll see what I can do about the emotions. =D Once again, thanks.

-JC

Poetic prose is basically a piece of writing that is in the form of prose (a story) but uses poetic language.

Hey,

It was way too introspective for me, but I have this large distaste for nearly all exposition. It's so nasty, action pausing, and bleck. But, the problem you have is, there is no action.

This reminded me of a poem that just does a lot of telling, mostly because of its poetic qualities, but it's all the same. You need action, and for that matter, characters. This is too abstract, so though it is pretty, it lacks real substance.

I see this as being an exposition that a character is thinking/contemplating with while something is going on, the obvious sin? But we need the actions, the real thoughts, a name, and a person. We need to know why she [you] view it in this sense.

The thoughts are without a body, and so they...float. It's poetic, true, true, but it leaves for much to be desired. As a reader, we want to see other people thinking what we think. So, add characters, action, and give it a real story, and then it'll be magnificent.

PS: Poetic prose is basically this, although, seeing as I don't know it well, I cannot be sure. I would assume it would have to be less abstract on the concept, more analytical, and probably more to the point of the subject, rather than brushing around it as you did. But, I don't like prose so...


Best of luck.

Poetic prose also belongs in the Poetry Forum. Somone kindly move it there.

...either there or in "Other".


But I think we'll go with Poetry for this. So Moved to Other Poetry.










IMP

Sorry, I would have put it there, had I known it was poetry.

Thank you though.

-JC

If that's how you write when your bored than forget your life and write.... Woot for boredom! I'm not quite sure if its a poem... .but then again I assume its free verse . I think it was excellent!!!

Merci Nightmare

lol... sorry i really i really loved it

(merci= french for thank you)

No need to apologize. =D

It's nice, but... I don't know. I'm sure the repetition of "pure" and "purity," etc, was intentional, but it just sounded a little sing-songy to me, really.

I agree with Claudette, it's a nice piece, but it does wander quite a bit. If Shakespeare's verse is Rembrandt, then this is Pollack - and there's nothing wrong with that, but you need to give the reader a little more of a push in the right direction to show them where you're headed with it. I got lost about halfway through and had to go back and re-read bits of it. The emotional landscaping is nice, but it needs something a little more substantial to pull it together.