As you well know (my first prose poem)

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As you well know, those were dark times for our fair
city of Acre. The crime index was already twice the
national average when the first murders of the
infamous Eviscerator took place. Granted, the
notorious killer did not gain media attention until the
remains of his first Caucasian victim, eight year old
Penelope Granger, were found on the Palisades side
of the Carlson River. We hate to bring it up because
we know that Penelope used to sit behind you in the
third grade classroom, flinging triangle shaped notes
at the back of your head, asking whether or not you
liked her. One can only wonder after her body was
discovered inside the black duffel back on the beach
of Centralia, her corpse carefully divided into six
individual pieces, wrapped in a white sheet with
circus makeup painted on her severed head, would
little Penelope still have gotten into the back of that
ice cream van with the mysterious circus clown if the
response you had written on the little triangle shaped
notes had been yes?


Spoiler
This poem is supposed to appear in perfect blocks, but I can't format it to appear the way it does in Word. Sorry.

Also, this poem is in reference to my short story "Midnight Marauders" located here: topic70623.html

Also, also, I wouldn't mind it if you guys would deem me worthy of dropping a critique, for god sake. Either my work is horrible or I need to dumb it down, I honestly can't tell without some feedback.
First you will awake in disbelief, then
in sadness and grief and when you wake
the last time, the forest you've been
looking for will turn out to be
right in the middle of your chest.




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BadNarrator wrote:As you well know, those were dark times for our fair
city of Acre. The crime index was already twice the
national average when the first murders of the
infamous Eviscerator took place. Granted, the
notorious killer did not gain media attention until the
remains of his first Caucasian victim, eight year old
Penelope Granger, were found on the Palisades side
of the Carlson River. We hate to bring it up because
we know that Penelope used to sit behind you in the
third grade classroom, flinging triangle shaped notes
at the back of your head, asking whether or not you
liked her. One can only wonder after her body was
discovered inside the black duffel back on the beach
of Centralia, her corpse carefully divided into six
individual pieces, wrapped in a white sheet with
circus makeup painted on her severed head, would
little Penelope still have gotten into the back of that
ice cream van with the mysterious circus clown if the
response you had written on the little triangle shaped
notes had been yes?


Spoiler
This poem is supposed to appear in perfect blocks, but I can't format it to appear the way it does in Word. Sorry.

Also, this poem is in reference to my short story "Midnight Marauders" located here: topic70623.html

Also, also, I wouldn't mind it if you guys would deem me worthy of dropping a critique, for god sake. Either my work is horrible or I need to dumb it down, I honestly can't tell without some feedback.


Hello, Mr. Ben Ten--I mean--BadNarrator. I think I'll have to go check your story first before reviewing your poem, but I'll tell you anyway what I think of your work before I read your other work.

Let's start with: I know you said you can't make it look like how it looks like in Word, but please, please edit the font size; it's so hard to read. Never mind that.

Now, about the poem, it's really cool. The story is cool. but it seems to be lacking something. Meter? When I read it again, it sounded like simply prose. You can throw in more imagery there.

That's all I can say...
“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen:
not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”


—C.S. LEWIS


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Powerful story- I would try to perhaps add more punctuation or split this up to make it a bit easier on the eyes. It wasn't so much the font type that was difficult for me to read, but the intimidation of one large block of text did.

Overall, I like how this went from statistical seeming to a much more personal level, something that had to do with the reader and the girl alone. I really don't have much to critique about this; really nicely done.


-Coral-




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Thanks for the responses.

jashbagabaldo (your username's a mouthful) I see what you mean. It is lacking in imagery. I'll keep that in mind for revision. Thanks.
First you will awake in disbelief, then
in sadness and grief and when you wake
the last time, the forest you've been
looking for will turn out to be
right in the middle of your chest.




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Points 3649
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Hiya!
I have to say, I really liked this. I wasn't sure about it at first, as it didn't seem to flow initially; nor did it seem the right kind of literature to be made into a poem. (That may, of course, be only me: I'm not very familiar with prose.)Then I grew interested, and I noticed that it flowed more smoothly. I was chilled by the plotline and the ironic question that it all comes down to. And now I'm impressed - I really am. Although I agree that it could have done with a bit more imagery, and perhaps punctuation, this review is, overall, a positive one.
There isn't much else I can say - as Persephoneia said, this poem was very nicely done.
God bless, and keep writing,
Ignis:pirate3:
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A thousand times it calls your name
A thousand times you hear it
And fools are those who heed its call
But fools are those who fear it.


The Interesting Thoughts of Edward Monkton




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oi
nice one dude...
TheGummyBearEater



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