Young Writers Society

Please do not read my poetry if you do not plan on commenting. This annoys me to no end.

a while ago
i sat in my room and stared at pictures
pasted to blue construction paper
and blah blah blah - love - he's in love
and loved me then, everything is beautiful and
nothing hurts, except, you know,
him.

shiver. i don't know why, but... nice. It also feels a bit akward until the end of the stanza, but it works here, i think.

i surfed through keyboards
(it's amazing who you find)
at 4 in the AM
and built small idols to
black glitter and girls in stilletto heels
it is more than just a fashion statement, you know.

4 in the morning.. idols.. more then a fashion statement..

and i would have raced out my door
could i have seen my mistakes
bow down to snapping trees and
and flurries of paper and poems
carried away away way away and away.

omg love the analogy.

but god, fuck this, i can not handle your silence
and the musical notes
our musical notes
inharmonious and flickerfading like a dying candle
i can not watch
or feel and stand to be
a part of something that hurt you so much.

well, i guess i fucked up
yeah, i guess fucked up
but, i swear, i watched you
grip and fall from a 10story highrise
and just watched
as you ripped through staus quo
Typical Teenager

and. i. am. so. fucking. sorry
i fucked up.

i'll fix it tomorrow, i promise,
i'll fix it tomorrow.

honestly, the language breaks up this last part, and it distracted me from the ending, which is not good, in my book. I don't think you need it.

well done, brad.

Yeah, I explained this in the Chatroom, but the ending is intentionally brimming with foul language. As Mesh said, it detracts from the ending, which is my intent. In this poem, I am not striving for a strong ending, rather a fizzling out, so you don't remember the promise I make, and I am not held to my word. Silly, but true.

Well, the poem in general was very original and seemed sort of lyrical but then again, it would not have fit in that sappy section (which I personally loathe.)Anyway, I was able to keep up until I got to this stanza:

well, i guess i fucked up
yeah, i guess fucked up
but, i swear, i watched you
grip and fall from a 10story highrise
and just watched
as you ripped through staus quo
Typical Teenager

The "fucked up" parts really confused me. They just didn't seem gramatically correct.
Also on "And just watched" I thought it should've been "And just watching." I'm sorry, but I'm very finicky when it comes to grammar and word play. But other than that, the last two lines were fitting with the rest of the poem. And I have to say, I really like the "Typical Teenager."

Aw.....this is so...sad and everything. Alright, ACTUAL CRITIQUE

a while ago
i sat in my room and stared at pictures
pasted to blue construction paper
and blah blah blah - love - he's in love
and loved me then, everything is beautiful and
nothing hurts, except, you know,
him.

This confuses me because you start in first person, and then start talking about "him." Is he supposed to be you? I like the imagery, and the stuff about construction paper. It's cute. I like the stuff about everything being beautiful, and nothing hurting except, "him," but I don't know who "he" is.

i surfed through keyboards
(it's amazing who you find)
at 4 in the AM
and built small idols to
black glitter and girls in stilletto heels
it is more than just a fashion statement, you know.

You build idols, huh? interesting. Well written, anyway. How do you know stilletto's are more than a fashion statement?

and i would have raced out my door
could i have seen my mistakes
bow down to snapping trees and
and flurries of paper and poems
carried away away way away and away.

makes me feel kinda like when you're reading a bad horror story, and you find out that the main character got into deep trouble, and you feel for them, but you're also really nervous for the character. Almost like when you're sitting in the principal's office after getting in a fight. Awful, sort of. It's well written.

but god, fuck this, i can not handle your silence
and the musical notes
our musical notes
inharmonious and flickerfading like a dying candle
i can not watch
or feel and stand to be
a part of something that hurt you so much.

*shivers* I love the weakness that you portray in this stanza. How you cannot handle this, cannot watch, or feel, or stand to be part of something that hurt *her?* so much. The profanity actually makes it stronger, I think. Again, I love this. The word "flickerfading," and the comparasin to a dying candle was lovely. Absolutely perfect. *shivers again* still that feeling like somebody did something horrible, and you feel for them.

well, i guess i fucked up
yeah, i guess fucked up
but, i swear, i watched you
grip and fall from a 10story highrise
and just watched
as you ripped through staus quo
Typical Teenager

you could lose the second line of this stanza, I think. The third and fourth are so awesome, and the imagery is absolutely stunning. this poem is so amazing, brad.

and. i. am. so. fucking. sorry
i fucked up.

i'll fix it tomorrow, i promise,
i'll fix it tomorrow.

I like thie first line. It seems to suit it well. Actually, I think this ending was really strong. The "I'll fix it tomorrow, I promise," was just so adorably sweet, but it's also like, you know the person isn't going to fix it tomorrow, you know?

Overall, it was excellent. Actually, one of your best. I like it as much as Blood on your Dandilions. That's really saying something, too.

Incandescence wrote:Yeah, I explained this in the Chatroom, but the ending is intentionally brimming with foul language. As Mesh said, it detracts from the ending, which is my intent. In this poem, I am not striving for a strong ending, rather a fizzling out, so you don't remember the promise I make, and I am not held to my word. Silly, but true.

Yes.. if that is the effect you were going for, it was perfect. Makes some sense to me as well, looking at it again.

I don't think there's much to be said that hasn't been said, but as YOU said:

Please do not read my poetry if you do not plan on commenting. This annoys me to no end.

Erm... sorry. I always feel like my comments are a little dry and uninteresting since mostly I go "great job!". I'm really bad at the whole critique thing, and my old writing site was all... critique or die.

So I don't have a critique, I have a comment-ish thingish to say... ish... (you made me nervous, damn you!):

That was a really beautiful poem.

...and, eh, that's all...