Rounded With A Sleep Pt. 3:

“Skin as porcelain? More like rubber, my pet, peeling away as tires do.”

And it’s a pale epidermis, borne of moonbeams and blunt objects,
both to bleach and beat the pigment out.
“Albino” is hardly fitting, implying disease, while this bruised paper body is perfection.
But my ecstasy can’t last even as long as you;
the paparazzi have gotten to God, and the cameras stole the Devil’s soul;
so our time is tied in with that channel seven bimbo, the one with heroine-laced blush:
a redtone rush to sweeten and still. So hurry now in your bleeding, child,
burgundy pools don’t permit the flames.

“Ohm’s eye God, my sweet, your flesh is curling with the heat.”

We’re bound together in film, as every gold digger’s girl and luck-seeker’s lad
tunes in to the tube.
The rendered pixelations making up for the one’s you lack, I can’t
help but to laugh at the blue in your face and its oh-so-fitting clash
with the green of every jealous rapist in the world.
No, this warrant’s all mine.
With the cameramen reeling (am I killing you with these puns or what?),
I keep the director’s mantle one moment more:
A shock from a Glock, and look! You’re ready for your closeup.

“Here’s to looking at you, kid.”

~~~~
edited x 1

Oh. You say it is horrible and yet I loved it! [pardoning capitalization and punctuation follies]

That was... beyond brilliant/beautiful. The imagery was wonderful, and "(am I killing you with these puns or what?)" has to be one of the most amazing lines in the whole poem, not counting the actual pun ^_~

“Ohm’s eye God, my sweet, your flesh is curling with the heat”

"Ohm's eye God" looks so weird, but once I understood it, it seemed... lovely.

And it’s a pale epidermis, borne of moonbeams and blunt objects
To bleach and beat the pigment out.

I think "...blunt objects to bleach and beat..." flows odd, at the line break. it just doesn't... work? The sentence, that is.

Because I am too lazy to punctuate everything, punctuate your dialog :p

I love the mix of internet [which I picked up again with "Tube"], television, cameras, heaven and hell, and all the other repetitions that come out in this poetic piece, counting all three. I really do love these, even your Casablanca reference ^_~

You may have thought it was horrible, but I liked it a lot. I seriously cannot suggest certain lines to edit. You're killing me, Ed--my jealousy will be lasting for a long time.

Zee, you're too kind :p

Oh, and edited

“Skin as porcelain? More like rubber, my pet, peeling away as tires do.”

It's a long line, and it's dialogue, which immediately puts me on the defensive--but I like it. The flow is absolutely perfect, and it sets the tone. ^^

And it’s a pale epidermis, borne of moonbeams and blunt objects,
both to bleach and beat the pigment out.
“Albino” is hardly fitting, implying disease, while this bruised paper body is perfection.
But my ecstasy can’t last even as long as you;
the paparazzi have gotten to God, and the cameras stole the Devil’s soul;
so our time is tied in with that channel seven bimbo, the one with heroine-laced blush:
a redtone rush to sweeten and still. So hurry now in your bleeding, child,
burgundy pools don’t permit the flames.

2.1 - "And it's a pale epidermis" seems a little off, given the rest of the line; I'd suggest removing a syllable. Perhaps the "and," as the only other I could think of is "a," but I like the anonymity that lends to "pale epidermis."

2.2 - Eek. The first half of this sentence is incredibly prosaic, while the second is... vaguely emo-poetic. I don't know; I always wince whenever I see a comparison between skin/body and paper. It's been overdone (and poorly done) by so many amateur poets! Despite that, the addition of the "bruised" aspect improves it (while the "perfection," a bland word for an overused concept, brings it back down). I'm also not incredibly fond of the quotation marks around " 'Albino.'"

2.3 - There's Ed back again! ^^ Much better.

2.4-7 - No criticisms here; even though you're using something that has been done before with the paparazzi/religion angle, you take it to a new depth (height?) and originality. ^^ Bien hecho!

“Ohm’s eye God, my sweet, your flesh is curling with the heat.”

Eliotesque obscurity, internal rhyme, and elusory allusions? Brilliance!

We’re bound together in film, as every gold digger’s girl and luck-seeker’s lad
tunes in to the tube.
The rendered pixelations making up for the one’s you lack, I can’t
help but to laugh at the blue in your face and its oh-so-fitting clash
with the green of every jealous rapist in the world.
No, this warrant’s all mine.
With the cameramen reeling (am I killing you with these puns or what?),
I keep the director’s mantle one moment more:
A shock from a Glock, and look! You’re ready for your closeup.

4.1-2 - Eh. I love the "bound together in film" part, but the rest of it feels unnecessary--I understand that it sets up the rest of the stanza, but is that its only function? It should have some meaning on its own, but it feels like a very pretty (and hollow) veneer to me.

4.3 - "One's" should be "ones." Also, the beginning is a little unclear, which rather spoils an otherwise fascinating and original image. Perhaps make it "With the rendered--?"

4.4-5 - You have a habit of correlating color with emotion, which is understandable as it's an accepted fact (or perhaps convention?) that they do and should correlate, in some manner. I just wish you didn't feel the need to spell it out in Crayola colors (you used burgundy before, but so often it seems like you're just using "blue" or "green) and a Crayola-esque lack of subtlety. Stop playing with crayons, boy--move up to oils and ink. You've got the skills, so use them!

4.6 - I love the sense of self-satisfaction here.

4.7 - xD I like it on a personal level, but as a poet and critic it makes me go "well...." And not in a good way, either. It's clever, but uncomfortably colloquial, and just feels... off. I don't know how else to put it. It's like when you're at a party, and there's some guy telling jokes that are reasonably funny, but he seems so aware of their mild humor (and so insistent that others are aware of it as well) that the best the listeners can summon is a weak smile or half-hearted laugh.

4.8-9 - These lines also seem clever, but don't really make much of an impression or hold any interest for me. Maybe it's ignorance--what exactly does "shock from a Glock" allude to? Perhaps I'd like it better if I understood.

“Here’s to looking at you, kid.”

Hee. ^^ I like what you've done with this line personally--but beware! A lot of readers will just look at this, shake their heads, and say: "He got the line wrong!" Subtle changes are sometimes the most effective, but be aware that they're also the hardest to cotton on to--and many readers may have trouble understanding their significance.

Haha! Wonderful! I think it's great that I can finally find modern-ish poetry I can follow. Really enjoyed it, darling, the format was a little wierd but maybe that's just me. The word choices were impeccible, and what can I say? I'm a fan!

*waves Whence pom-poms*

This seems very heavy compared to the previous two installments.

“Albino” is hardly fitting, implying disease, while this bruised paper body is perfection.

I'd put the "albino" in italics and reserve the quotes for dialogue.

so our time is tied in with that channel seven bimbo, the one with heroine-laced blush:
a redtone rush to sweeten and still. So hurry now in your bleeding, child,

long lines; I thought the linebreaks were more random than necessary.

“Ohm’s eye God, my sweet, your flesh is curling with the heat.”

well done; nice play with language.

We’re bound together in film, as every gold digger’s girl and luck-seeker’s lad
tunes in to the tube.

the part in bold seems almost too literal for what's around it.

The rendered pixelations making up for the one’s you lack,

love it!

And well done through the end, as well. I love this style of writing, and I think you pull it off wonderfully.