Young Writers Society

The Last Word

There it is—a faux pas in society,
lying feeble on this very page,
a cube, a puzzle piece, a block—
something like a sizzling fluorescent
light in an underground chamber,
resembling a migraine in the crooks
and corners of your brain. It does
not need to call out to you to gain
attention, does not need to roar and
wave its arms. Universal—like
blood palpitating through veins—an
epidemic, worldwide pathogen.
Alzheimer’s, dementia—they are
medical syndromes that plague the
aged—and yet this can destruct even
the eight-year-old with her blue
daypack, carving her homework
with a blank mind, a pompous void
that rankles at many innocent blue-
collar citizens. This is a poet’s death
sentence, sitting on desks with its
legs springing up and down, up and
down: If you pick out a fight with him,
be ready to lose: you will never laugh
last, never win last, never get the last
word.

This is great. The personification towards the beginning and end is good, and how it becomes/ compared to different things- a puzzle, a light, a migraine, etc. The only issue I have with it is that the mention of Alzheimer's and Dementia seem too technical and break the general whimsical feel of this piece.
Overall, bravo. Its a peculiar subject.

Gadi. wrote:The Last Word

There it is—a faux pas in society, ((of instead of in))
lying ((comma)) feeble on this very page, ((I feel you can put a period here))
a cube, a puzzle piece, a block—
something like a sizzling fluorescent
light in an underground chamber,
resembling a migraine in the crooks
and corners of your brain. It does
not need to call out to you to gain
attention, ((you need another it)) does not need to roar ((comma)) and
wave its arms. Universal—like
blood palpitating through veins—an
epidemic, worldwide pathogen.
Alzheimer’s, dementia—they are
medical syndromes that plague the
aged— ((everything after dementia kills the mystique of it in my opinion)) and yet this can destruct even
the eight-year-old with her blue ((I know there is someway to reword this line to make it more eloquent, but its too late for me to come up with anything. Sorry))
daypack, carving her homework
with a blank mind, a pompous void
that rankles at many innocent blue-
collar citizens. This is a poet’s death
sentence, sitting on desks with its
legs springing up and down, up and
down: ((I personally don't like the repetition of 'up and down')) If you pick out a fight with him,
be ready to lose: you will never laugh
last, never win last, never get the last
word.

It was very good. A few uneeded things, I made a few stylistic comments. Other than that there isn't much wrong. Its a good poem, gets a little colloquial at times, but I haven't read much of your work so I don't know if thats a stylistic choice. I hope you take my critique to heart, thanks for the read.

Overall Rating - Very Good

Bravo. That was really good. This poem was intense in several different ways. I'll just explain some of them.
Overall:
-easy flow
-creative
-painted a story
-wonderful word choice
-awesome detail and description


This is a poet’s death
sentence, sitting on desks with its
legs springing up and down, up and
down: If you pick out a fight with him,
be ready to lose: you will never laugh
last, never win last, never get the last
word.

This is my favorite paragraph throughout the whole poem. Amazing way to end it.

[quote="Gadi."][b]The Last Word[/b]

There it is—a faux pas in society,
lying feeble on this very page,
a cube, a puzzle piece, a block—
something like a sizzling fluorescent
light in an underground chamber,
resembling a migraine in the crooks
and corners of your brain. >>>>I LIKED THIS PART IT MADE ME THINK
It does not need to call out to you to gain
attention, does not need to roar and
wave its arms. Universal—like
blood palpitating through veins—an
epidemic, worldwide pathogen.
Alzheimer’s, dementia—they are
medical syndromes that plague the
aged—and yet this can destruct even
the eight-year-old with her blue
daypack, carving her homework
with a blank mind, a pompous void
that rankles at many innocent blue-
collar citizens.

This is a poet’s death>>>>>>THIS PART IS MY FAVORITE
sentence, sitting on desks with its
legs springing up and down, up and
down: If you pick out a fight with him,
be ready to lose: you will never laugh
last, never win last, never get the last
word.[/quote]


Wow, you sure have a way with words. Everytime I read something of yours it's new and fresh. It's nothing like I've read before someone could easily write something one a page but it's the few that actually branch out to us. You are one of those few. This crit is probably worthless because you probably already know this. I just wrote this to tell you how much I liked it. Anyways do carry on.

your friend as always
-Max

your poem is
a great one.
it was so fascinatig
and intresting
reading the poem
thanks to
your knowledge
and good
application
of literary
techniques.
they made your
poem an
embodiment of
natural talent.
keep up the good
writing. hope
you read
my poem
tittled "quietude" and tell me
what you think.
i'm praise.thanls
cheers

I do so hate to make the message board sound like a borken record, but I am nothing short of stunned at how you gave this poem the life you gave it. To show a society the ideal of a writer from the view of a writer was fantastic and all of the similar words pertaining to its meaning. My personal grattitude to you is a thanks for showing other readings including myself that as Poets, we are strong and brilliant, even if in the most old fashioned way possible. Then again, being old fashioned is pretty much all we might be, knowing the secrets that lie beneath that of which only writers know where to dig. The brutality of honesty from the Poet's line was amazing, for it showed a type of attitude that many would classify as disrespectful, but we know as true.
Once agian, thank you.