Young Writers Society

Overall, I liked it. it was a good poem. nice job.





And you cut yourself to feel alive.

Wow. Very strong begining. Made me think, caught my attention, and had me wanting more all in nine syllables. Also, since you start it with "and," it feels like you're in the middle of a sentence, talking to someone, and it's like you're just begging me to evesdrop...which I did.

In a broken reality, silence foreshadowed
small gifts and flowers idolizing the ground
in which you touched.

This is really pretty. You form a beautifully demented picture for me, with shattered glass and presents and flowers on a barren, ashy ground. like it was beautiful once, but it isn't anymore.

The whims of dismay stained
purple and red just to see
that you could not be unbruised.

Good imagery. cool how you portray bruises as stains. I like it alot.

Truth is unwholesome and
lies are fulfilling
and our bright eyes are gaping

for anything perceived as perfect.

I like it, but it doesn't all make sense to me. Still, it's beautiful.

When you lie down and wood
penetrates your back and felt tip markers
euphemize your life, you smile

Hmmm...wood on back..markers...uh...dunno, or don't understand. like it though.


with the perverse eve of someone whose
existence has been denied in acts of
naiveté and regretful silence.

Beautiful. So sad, and regretful. awww....

You clutched by your side small animals
whose gaze and whimper both
would consort a man yet still

small...animals? Don't get that part.

they are only used to control the unwanted tears already forming in your eyes

makes me feel, because I've already felt that, and it makes me think. I love it.

awwww....

i love the title. it's such a cool poem...sad, depressing even, yes, but still... WELCOME BACK!

Wow. This is a really hauntingly beautiful piece.

Nitpicks:

And you cut yourself to feel alive. .....smashing beginning. very intreguing, draws the reader in.

In a broken reality, silence foreshadowed
small gifts and flowers idolizing the ground
in which you touched. ....i'm not exactly sure what this line refers too. in what who touched?

The whims of dismay stained
purple and red just to see ....i would move 'just to see' to its own line
that you could not be unbruised.

Truth is unwholesome and
lies are fulfilling
and our bright eyes are gaping ...over all, your emjambed lines make little sense. make sure that the word or ideaat the end of any enjambed line is one you truely wish to emphasize.

for anything perceived as perfect.

When you lie down and wood
penetrates your back and felt tip markers
euphemize your life, you smile ....again i was unclear as to the action here. i recieved the impression of a vampyre being staked, but that was because of the wood. the three line stanzas are great, but a little clarification is always nice.

with the perverse eve of someone whose
existence has been denied in acts of
naiveté and regretful silence. ...pure poetic bliss. don't ever touch this stanza

You clutched by your side small animals
whose gaze and whimper both
would consort a man yet still

they are only used to control the unwanted tears already forming in your eyes. ...i suggest making this two lines, or condensing it if you can. it seems a little long.

To reiterate, be VERY careful when enjambing lines, lest you end up reading like Billy Shatner. The purpose of a line break is to both create punctuation within a piece and to place emphasis on what was last said. When you enjamb a line, the sole purpose should be to emphasize what ends the line break. Your metaphors are interesting, but not always clear. Mostly this paints an extremely vivid image in my mind, but where it gets muddled, you lose my interest.

Good luck, and keep on writing!

Because this poem is not lucent in certain stanzas, I'd like to state something, and you can critique me for not doing my job, but you know, shove it.

My friend killed herself last night, in the University Auditorium, by slitting her wrists on a wooden table. Figure it out.

Now I feel really stupid and kinda guilty that I didn't even pick up on that...
I'm so sorry to hear that, Brad.
I wasn't going "nitpick" this particular poem anyway, but now I really can't do it now, and I can't see how anyone else could.

But how do you write about things like that? Every time someone dies in my life, I just sit there and stare at an empty piece of paper but I don't know what to say or how to say it (am I rambling???), but anyway, this is a beautiful poem...and I was touched in so many ways, from the time I first read it, that I can't even really explain.

wow, this was really good, the words you used to create the scene were excellent, first line was great, very different from the other poems i have, keep up the good job, and sorry about your friends, that must have been a tradgic lost xXx

Chevy, I understand your sentiment, however this is a poetry forum and our goal here is to critique the poetry to assist the poet in growing and becoming better. Incan asked me to critique this and I did, willingly and honestly. That's nothing to feel guilty about.

Brad, lovely piece, but I do have to agree with Gala on some points. The metaphors are dashing, but too vague…at least until we learned the story behind it. Then everything kind of clicked…still, when you can look at this logically (trust me, I know how you feel…I wish I didn’t) you might to rearrange some things.

And I’m sorry. No one should ever have to go through that…no one.

I love everything you write although sometimes I get easily confused. Good job.