Young Writers Society

April 8

Etchings on the blue lined page
slowly seeping into multifaceted worlds,
the kind that words bring.
They dance, candied colours,
silently mocking.
The tune is one that few play,
even as they wait,
they are called to action.
Domino soldiers.

April 8:

slowly seeping into multifacited worlds,

Should be multifaceted. I'm not sure about this one. I don't think it really had much meaning behind it, that or the meaning was too unclear to be found. I like the imagery of 'candied colours' and that second line is very pretty but I think some of your other phrases could be stronger.

Thank dear, I'm going to work on all these eventually. ^^

April 9 - The Deception.

The quick silver of surprise
Surges as the weight settles.
Pulsing red as the pain is
Flickered into being.

They never said

Liquid light burst into being
As life is made.
Oozing green and blue,
The weight increases.

It would be so hard

Soothing ink pouring over
The oldest of wounds,
Black tar for the healing
In the box the daughter brought.

To hold the world

Polka pink spreading over
Darkness again, cherub
Children awake for the change.
The weight lifts slightly, breath.

On my shoulders.

April 10

In the belly of the beast, we wait for that which never appears.
The pelts of the fallen line His walls, making His world,
Can you see me? Second only to you, I stare.
Took me, easily, as I wandered in the forest of my own neglect.
The threat dripped from lacquered tongues as It salivated
Towards me. decorum in nature. (Such elegance,
Pursed on the lips of waiting mouths, should not be so tantalising.)
I continue.
Stolen, on the edge of panic, to the mounded confines of
The monster’s belly. There, second only to you, I stare.



Yeah... I dunno either. xD

April 9: I don't know if it was intentional but your first stanza seems to contain a lot of sibilance which was great and so fitting with the title that I'd suggest adding more. Maybe:

The [s]quick[/s] swift silver of surprise
Surges as the weight [Change to substance perhaps?] settles.
Pulsing red as the pain is
Flickered into [s]being[/s] existance.

They never said

Liquid light burst into being
As life is made. [The tense change is distracting. I'd say either as life was made or bursts into being, the second being the preferred choice.]
Oozing green and blue, [Maybe a semi colon here?]
The weight increases.

Other than that, I thought it was great. I'm not sure that I like the phrases in italics that have been seperated from the others though the last fit rather nicely. Good work.

April 10: This one is strange. My first criticism/ suggestion is please, please change 'I awoke' to I opened my eyes or something. I don't know why but those two words really irked me and they take the reader out of the poem. Also, I'm not sure about alternating between He and It as a way of identifying the creature and I feel that some of your imagery could have been stronger. That said, it had a nice touch of creepy to it and I think it has potential if you think about expanding it and maybe making it a little clearer and less weird.

Saber, I love you. ^^

For today you get two for the price of one. Emjoi.

April 11

Rich but soft in the evening light,
soft leather curves, arching high
within the greying stair.
Scarlet silk etches into the opening,
fading in the darkening light,
waiting for the prince to come.

---

Trailing light skitters from the eyes,
Shuddering against the backdrop
Of blackened nature.
Did you steal the light away?
Breath hitches along the roadside,
Pressing in on the chest;
claustrophobic fears.
Why is it darkness stalls?
In a moment, grains slicked to the
Side of broken glass, I forget,
And your memories tumble downward.
What is it you mean to me?
I am crumpled, lying prone,
And you stand, turned away,
Watching as the light comes to call.

April 11 (1): I'd suggest taking away the repetition of soft but this one is pretty. It's a little fragmented and I'm not sure about 'Scarlet silk etches...' maybe shifts or slithers or sidles. Etches just doesn't really seem to fit to me, it's like saying 'Scarlet silk engraves into the opening' or 'Scarlet silk paints into the opening' which makes little sense.

Your use of light and colour creates a good atmosphere and though I'd suggest expanding it, I generally liked this one.

April 11 (2):

Pressing in on the chest, Maybe a semi colon here?
claustrophobic fears.

Why is it the darkness stalls? I'd suggest 'why is it that darkness stalls?' or even better, just omit 'the' so your flow is smoother.

I love this one. I have very little criticism because it's simply beautiful. The imagery is fantastic and your use of italics works perfectly. Great work!

[By the way, I love you too xx]

Honest to bestsy, you're aces. ^^ - You were completly right, I was considering a structure change, wasn't sure. ^^ *modifies*


April 12

Lonely bones of old maids
rumble into empty graves,
Clattering against the dusky soil.
There was a moment,
when silence became sound and
the world was magic,
Before the crack that filled us all,
where morning stole the night
away and sleep was but a memory.
With wishes that went
for years at a time,
though crumbled at the tissue touch,
the world did justice to revolution.
And all, and all,
the bones continue to fall.

I've already given my verdict on this one, dear, though I have realised that I have a small suggestion and one which is purely structure. i think that maybe moving your line breaks around a little could make this more dramatic:

Lonely bones of old maids rumble
into empty graves,
Clattering against the dusky soil.
There was a moment,
When silence became sound and
the world was magic,
Before the crack that filled us all,
where morning stole the night Away
and sleep was but a memory.
With wishes that went
For years at a time,
though crumbled at the tissue touch,
The world did justice to revolution.
And all, and all,
The bones continue to fall.

Naturally, the capitals would need editing and such and it's only a suggestion anyway. It's a great poem xx

After much debate ^^:

April 13

The door is locked, Father Time,
and naught have I but copper wires.
It is you whose nimble fingers
stole the world from under my feet.
You have words to whisper the lock away,
why is it, courageous weeper,
that you find not the words for me?
Hide the truth, if you will, it matters not,
for the door is locked, Father Time,
and it is you who has the key.

Just reading over it again, there's one line I'm not so sure about, actually:

Knock on me down, wail at will,

I don't quite understand... but in general, me likes it.

There was something else I thought of actually. Rather than broken keys, I was thinking maybe 'and naught have I but copper wires' or maybe 'paper clips' or maybe even something like:

'and naught have I but keys
for every other lock.'

or 'to every other door?'

Good poem though. Why not see how far ahead you can get, yes? Can you be as far ahead as I am behind?

Heather xx

<3 as always, Saber.

I had one already prepared for today... but it's on another computer. So I give you this instead. I wrote it while coming home tonight, so don't kill me for how lame it is. :p

April 14 - Waning Moon

Smile at me, mother’s son,
watch from your stolen perch,
frail against the depth of the sky.

You cry so freely, father’s child.
It is the light that drowns you,
you who wait, crest upon crest,
to be lost come morning.

No blame, no blame, my love.
For there is nothing about you,
unjust or just.

I sing for you, to bring about the morn,
so you shall sleep again.
Eyes shut to the growing dusk,
for one more night, just one more.

I'm not sure about this one. There's something pretty and soothing and yet also melancholic about it, yet I can't quite place my finger on any solid image or emotion. That's not a bad thing, it's just... strange. Which is another way of saying unique! I think your imagery is not as beautiful and wonderful as usual but the flow is very smooth and lovely.

I'm glad you liked it, kinda. ^^

This is one I posted earlier. I was going to write a new one for NaPo, but this is wdo in leiu for now.

April 15 - It's Time

Let's leave, let's leave,
in the silence of the night.
The moon is in bloom
and the bristling bats call,
let's leave, let's leave,
the night is ours once more.

April 16 - Cheaters.

Sweet juices mingling with the vine
and curling about the tongue.
Blushing red, caught in the hand,
they slip and hide behind bold enamel,
clamouring to be made more.
Traditional to passion, rich with lust
and taste, they culled the competition,
no cherries to be found, my dears.
Then the weapon came, diced and spliced,
they’re super survivors now, living it up,
they’re primed to die.
We see it, now, strawberries cheat too.

April 17 – What A Disguise Love Is.

I am taken by moments in time:
the feeling of your whisper travel up my
bare spine and thud home at the pulse in my throat,
your name is still on the tip of my tongue.
Not unnatural, but simply indefinable,
they steal me away. It is no longer today
and it is never yesterday. Your breath is in tomorrow.
It grasps at me, the lick of your words on my wrists,
and the simple kiss of heat that is your touch.
And the teeth of the matter, pressing into my chest,
“I have forgotten how to love you”
Perhaps it is best, as the slip of your skin mingles with mine,
for I cannot live in memory.