Young Writers Society

oh, this was very pretty.

i liked it, although I got a little lost at the end of the second verse. I think I found the idea again, although I had to read it over a couple of times. almost entirely my own stupidity of course, not your writing.

this was nice, it flowed very well. i liked the last line especially.

well, I liked it. I thought it sounded innocently sweet. I actually knew what nostalgia meant, too! In the 4rth line of the 1rst stanza you say, "for the now," but I think "for now," would be just fine. I like the idea of opening up like a book, that was pretty. It was probably my favorite part. The 1,2,3 didn't flow for me personally...but that's okay. Overall it was cool.

Have to agree. Lose the numbers!!!

(muahahaha i commented)

Hey, did you show him this? Just curious, because I finished reading your story... yeah..

Anyways. The second stanza seemed kind of like you were contradicting yourself... was that intended? The last stanza seemed really clumped together, like you were saying it in all one breath... or did you mean to do that, too?

Erm…right. Very, well, surreal. The title fits at least. To reiterate a few points, lose the numbers, and try to keep the idea throughout. You kind of lost me in the second stanza. I like the imagery, but towards the end of the second stanza it’s like you started rambling off onto a tangent then suddenly pop back to what you originally wanted to say. But lose the numbers, or at least the format of the numbers. They DEFINETLY detract from the poem.

But I would find some way to tighten it. I had to read it three times before I felt able to critique it correctly.

The numbers stay. It's part of my authoritative severity. You must realize, when you read this, it was not written for the general consensus, but only for those who have a deep knowledge of Deleuze/Guattari and Lacan, to whom this poem is fraught with literary allusions. 1,2,3 comes from a Lacanian idea of how long it takes us to inhale when in the presence of those we love. Furthermore, the structure of the poem is such that as you get to the part where it says, "the importance of silence in your presence," is an distinctly ramble-esque segue. In other words, as you near me telling Grant that I can articulate myself in his presence, the reader gets a sense of rambling, as though the author does not know what to say or how to say it.

The numbers have to stay.

I'm glad that you're not gonna take them out. The poem needs them.
I love this. In my dreams I can write like this. It's beautiful. I bow down to you.
*bows*
Brilliant.