Young Writers Society

Edited; begin.


Your life is a dirge,
a lesson in breaking before the gavel falls.
When you break, you teach your child how to cry. Ready for the test?
In three, two, one—run
before the devils catch up.
If you're going to die, die running, but

don’t fear just yet because God gave you
breathing room—an intermission before the battle resumes.
Duck for cover; if you can’t see them, they can surely see you. Your best bet,
your saving grace, is that pistol in your pocket that I just gave you.
Checked for bullets?

Point it at the devil and
fire; you can’t be punished
if it’s self-defense. So breathe easy;
sit back, bleed, and dream.

So you’re at a funeral where the organ
screams over your mother. A canvas held over the casket
reads “I ESCAPED,” scrawled in bloody graffiti.
You came here for misery,
for tears and tragedy? Okay then.
“It’s daddy,” I say, “and

you’re fired.”
Jobless and useless.
“Next semester, you’re on probation; you hit an
obstacle in the last stretch, remember darling?”
That’s right—God taught you a little about equivalent exchange;

sell yourself, get your daughter. What’s her name again?
Sam. Her name is Sam.
“You fought hard for your life and even harder for hers,”
but it wasn’t quite enough, was it?

The devil knows how to fight, so maybe you should pick up that gun again.
Aimed? Ready? Fire.

You’re back in kindergarten.
“Remember the building blocks? You loved the building blocks.”
You spell out the word “G-O-D” and you’re a prodigy.
You spell out the word “A-S-S” and they request a meeting.

The devil slithers across that
alphabet-and-grape-juice carpet;
ready for round two?

Aim and—

Pause. The bullet’s mid-air.
He’s glaring at you, that devil; he’s
afraid you’ll win, afraid you’ll
escape. But the devil knows better.
The devil knows best.

Resume; snake blood on the chalk board,
green and acidic.

“This is how life works, sweetheart: you kill the devil
and you die, too.”
God needs penance. God needs blood.

If he’s still alive, you’re running out of hope.
If he’s dead, then you’re on your last breath and
I’m your T-ball coach, standing on the home stretch,
shouting at you to slide.
If you slide and lose, you’re a hero.
If you run faster and win, you’re a coward.

“With life, you shake together two bad days
and pray for a tomorrow.” And if you're lucky, you die in your sl—
he’s alive? You’re alive too, then.

Aim and fire.

If you’re smart, you’ve aimed at yourself and are now
dying on the T-ball field. Can you taste the lumberyard sand?
Careful, those bases are new; no need to get them dirty with bl—

Pause and fade.

Daddy's girl in a white sun dress in a casket,
covered in mommy's tears, in daddy's hopes and dreams.
I look down at the white flowers in your hands
and smile, whispering,

“Your life is a dirge—
a lesson in breaking before lights go out.” So,

in three, two, one—run
before the devils catch up.
If you're going to Hell, go biting and thrashing.

Maybe it's just me, but I didn't quite get the idea of the poem. I guess it's the instability of human being.. [ Yey! for the last 2 verses ] Or maybe the fact that people nowadays do what they do only for themselves.
The choice of words is pretty good, it's just you've created a chaotic scene, and I didn't get most of the poem.
I would really appreciate if you would enlighten me.
Other than that, good job.
*bows*

Woohh buddy you should keep this under the short story category...
By the way good use of words and very soulful...
Keep up the good work...

PM me for anything...

Hey there!

Right, firstly, this is quite good in terms of narrative winds and snaps of visualisation thanks to a dandy set of word choicing. However, at the start, the poem is far too prose-like. I think this is because you've got quite a few sentence imitating punctuated lines, for example, most of the lines are ending with a full stop. This picks up further through the poem when you begin to use a more lyrical stand point but I don't think we're getting the initial rhythm we need to be enticed with in the first stanza. Perhaps experiment with your punctuation a wee bit more?

Probably my favourite thing about your poem is that it is in second person, almost as if you were putting us through a trial or something. I wasn't quite sure what I was being told to do but the flashy-like narrative and shocking visuals you create like shooting my 'sister' in self-defence was rather thrilling to a certain point. Even with the two last stanzas I can't really derive much of a specific effect or meaning or intent for writing this, but all the same it was comfortable and interesting to read. I'm guessing that you've tried to be explicit in the end, but I'm not deriving all too much.

So, this poem is good, but I'd revise your structure and punctuation at the start of the poem and perhaps try and create your meaning and effect in a more explicit way, whilst maintaining your style.

Hope this helps.
Ben

That was, um...AWESOME!
Okay, so we got that over with!
You really surprised me, I didn't think that I would like that so much, I loved it!
You were very creative and did a great job!
I think I understand you here...

"You’re back in kindergarten. Remember the building blocks?
You loved the building blocks. You spell out the word “L-O-R-D” and you’re a genius.
You spell out the word “A-S-S” and they request a meeting.

If he’s dead, then you’re in your last stretch of life and I’m your T-ball coach
standing on the home stretch, shouting at you to slide.
If you slide and miss, you’re a hero.
If you run faster and win, you’re a coward."

Are you simply giving examples of how this senile world is sooo unfair?
Or how this unfair world is soooo senile?
Again, I really really really liked it!
Thank you so much for posting it!

This was bloody brilliant. I'll be back to review it later.

I am here to review like you asked, but this was amazing and I am not sure I will be able to help you very much. My review will probably just be opinions and praise. But let's get started.

O.K. the beginning of this is riveting, and it stayed that way throughout. I was instantly captured in. Your lines have just enough pattern to make a rhythm and just enough of it isn't in a pattern to make the pattern less noticeable. I don't really like poems that are so structured. By the second line the voice in my head had gone to a beat that made it sound like a song. Though some people may think it is in 'sentence form' it really is poetry and I don't think you should make the lines copper or more 'poetic'.

Your imagery was wonderful. I pictured the whole thing as I read. Many people struggle to get imagery and feeling, but I felt every, sentence every word, every picture.

The idea of this poem was wonderful and you expressed it throughout. I loved how you did this mostly because a lot of poems you see now-a-days just tell you what they're about outright. You hint at it just enough, well it is really kind of obvious, but you leave enough room for readers to shape it slightly differently to fit their needs at the time.

Yep, I was right about my review, not helpful at all, oh well. I did my best, but unless you want me to give you a line-by-line nitpick review this is what you are going to get.

A. S.

This is lovely. I love this. I love its complexity--I have to keep going back and re-reading, but I feel like I'm seeing different aspects of the poem each time. I could tell you everything I love about it, but that would take too long and other people will tell you that; though I have to say that my favorite part was the link between the first stanza and the last, how the devils turned to angels...gorgeous.

I think that this part could be improved, or even taken out entirely.

You’re a waitress at a sketchy bar downtown. Boss makes you
wear short skirts to attract customers, and it works.
Put on that extra baby weight? You’re fired. Next semester,
you’re on probation; you hit an obstacle in the last stretch, remember?

I don't think it's as strong as the other ones. I think the selling-sex-as-a-waitress-at-a-bar thing isn't as...strong, especially as it's the first kind of "narrative" we hear about ourselves, right after a series of stanzas about the devil and guns and funerals. I think you might want to search for a stronger, harsher, sideways look at something else.

But even that isn't much of a problem. This is absolutely fantastic.

Thank you for sharing.

Hi Lumi
The ideas and words you lay out here are pretty incredible. You show a tremendous amount of insight and ability with your words. However, I felt a bit let down when I finished. You had the content and the language, but I still felt like something was missing. I'll get back to that.

The first three stanzas did a great job of drawing me in. You develop a unique flow and style that you maintain throughout this section. I loved fact that you kept things fairly cryptic, but still had strong enough connections to allow the reader to draw an overarching intention out of the words.

Remove your sunglasses while indoors; your
grandmother thinks it’s rude,
but she welcomes you to my funeral. For the sake of you, I am dead.
You’re here for some wisdom? Here’s what I know:

This is where those connections started to break down for me. You suddenly jump from discussing family relations and battle-philosophy to a grandmother's opinions on proper manners. While I wouldn't be surprised if you intended some underlying connection between the two, the lack of any form of transition makes it hard for the reader to follow. The jump to the narrator's figurative funeral also lacks any form of meaningful transition, leaving the reader to fend for themselves in the search for meaning.

You’re a waitress at a sketchy bar downtown. Boss makes you
wear short skirts to attract customers, and it works.
Put on that extra baby weight? You’re fired. Next semester,
you’re on probation; you hit an obstacle in the last stretch, remember?
That’s right—God taught you a little about equivalent exchange;

This was my least favorite stanza in the poem. It again lacks any clear connection to the surrounding lines, and it was the most unoriginal. One of the strongest points of this poem is the originality and unique style, and raging at the objectification of women has been done a million times before. If you don't want to get rid of the idea altogether, try coming at it from an angle that will provide the reader with some new insight or perspective.

sell your father, get your daughter. What’s her name again?
Sam. Her name is Sam.
You fight for your life and even harder for hers, but it’s not quite enough, is it?
The devil knows how to fight back, so you should pick up that twig now.

The tone in this stanza is very nicely done. The second line builds personality, and the 3rd and 4th lines do a good job of adding to the guiding style of the narrator. The "equivalent exchange" transition from the previous stanza also worked well. I prefer the last line without the "back". "Back" implies to me that the subject made the first attack on the devil, which isn't what I pulled from the poem. Without it, the line also has much more of a battling feel, rather than a vengeful feel.

You’re back in kindergarten. Remember the building blocks?
You loved the building blocks. You spell out the word “L-O-R-D” and you’re a genius.
You spell out the word “A-S-S” and they request a meeting.
The devil slithers nearer; ready for round two?

I particularly loved the implications of this stanza, but it didn't live up to its potential strength because the only thing connecting it to previous stanzas was the recurring devil reference.

If he’s still alive, you’re not my daughter.
This is the way life works, sweetheart: you kill the devil and you die, too.
God needs penance. God needs blood.

Is "he" the devil? That's how I interpreted it, but the "Aim and fire." between this and the previous stanza broke up the ideas enough that it took me a moment to figure out who you were referencing. I suggest trying to make that a little less ambiguous. The second line is well done. The third line felt too blunt to me. Outright statements leave me wanting proof. I don't want the narrator to tell me things, I want the narrator to show me things.

If he’s dead, then you’re in your last stretch of life and I’m your T-ball coach
standing on the home stretch, shouting at you to slide.
If you slide and miss, you’re a hero.
If you run faster and win, you’re a coward.

Again, the "he" is pretty ambiguous. At this point you seem to be moving further and further into stating ideas outright. Go back and look at how you laid out your ideas in the first few stanzas compared to this and the two previous stanzas. You've started just telling the reader what you're trying to get across. You're brilliant, show me something beautiful that I can pull meaning from instead. I know you can.

This is how life works—you shake together two bad days
and pray for a tomorrow. If you die in your sleep, you’re lucky like m—
shit. The devil’s alive? You’re alive too, then.

It was never clear to me that the narrator ever thought the devil was anything but alive. If he did think that the devil was dead, it isn't made very clear. I do appreciate the illumination on the narrator's fate, though.

If you’re smart, you’ve aimed at yourself and are now
dying on the T-ball field. Can you taste the lumberyard sand?
Careful, those bases are new; no need to get them dirty with blood.

I felt that this stanza was a nice return to the original feel of the poem. The insanity of worrying about the blood on the bases was a nice touch, and it referenced to and built on an idea that you started earlier. Good stuff.

You’re dead now, so we speak face to face. You ask how you
got here, and I give you a tip:

Too blunt. Too bland. I want at least some personality or beauty, hopefully both.

The final stanza wrapped things up nicely and came back to the original idea with an interesting twist. Your depiction of running as a form of fighting for oneself is really intriguing, and this piece has the potential to be truly incredible. However, the poem lacks the tightness it needs. There are too many jumps and tangents. It seems like you had a bunch of things on your mind and tried to cram them all into a single poem. Slow down a bit and develop things. If you want a wide array of angles in a single poem, spin a web with them so that each piece has a clear connection to the previous and last. Right now it's just a little too fragmented, which drastically dulls its power.

I hope at least some of this made sense. I probably shouldn't review works this late at night. I loved this poem, and if you ever edit it, it would make me indescribably happy to see future versions of it.
Good luck, and nice job.

I was interested from the beginning, you had me at gun, and kept me 'till the end. Quite honestly, I wish I could like this more than once. Nothing I say will be of any help whatsoever, but nice work, Lumi!

Wow. What a powerful poem -- and I'm not just saying that. What an interesting thought, perspective, description brought into all this.

So, as I can't really find any faults in this, I may as well show you what I loved about this poem. These lines were really stand-out to you:

In three, two, one—run
before the devils catch up.
If you're going to die, die running.

I don't know why this stood out so much, but I think it was just so great -- and not to mention it totally contradicted the last part of the poem, about the angels.

This is how life works—you shake together two bad days
and pray for a tomorrow.

This was also a "Wow" line. Nothing more to say than that simple one-syllable word.

OVERALL:
Please keep writing stuff like this. I've never much gotten poetry, but this was such an obscenely magnificent thing ... "Liking" it doesn't seem to give it enough credit for what it actually is, so luckily it's a featured work. I'll "Like" it anyway though.

Okay: just to start this off, this is going to be a lame review. I apologize in advance, but after someone hits a level so high above my own, I am rendered somewhat (okay, ridiculously) incompetent as far as reviewing goes. However, I really wanted to throw my two (maybe one and a half) cents in, and tell you how much I enjoyed this piece. And I've been meaning to read this for at least a day.

I really like this- there were a couple of things that I thought were interesting/could be worked on.

1) I felt like the first half of it was a little too prose-y, which isn't something I say often. But the rhythm felt very straightforward, and the language wasn't too figurative, so it just felt like I was reading a paper or story of sorts. And extremely good one though, mind you.

2) I love the 2nd person POV. I really found it to hold the reader in, and almost MAKE them take the role and relate.

3) Some parts of this almost feels rushed to me. Not in the rhythmic sense or length sense, but I feel like I've been thrust into the role of someone else, and to be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure what's going on the entire time. You jump from image to image without much of an introduction or reason, and at first it was a little disconcerting. I know that this kind of contradicts with my previous point, but I found the discomfort interesting on one level and well... uncomfortable on another. Still kind of undecided

4) The language itself was beautiful- you have a really interesting style of writing, and it's simply captivating. Excellent job.


Overall: Love it. c:

That was amazing. I don't know how to give that a review, nor do i have time, but I assure you I've never read anything quite like that. Absolutely astounding. I couldn't even find anything that could be improved the first read through. I lie'd being cofused about the twig thing (I hope you intended it to be confusing), it gave so much more impact to the feeling of unknown. An exciting, extreamely facinating feeling.

very odd... i like it though, its a different way to write poems...keep it up.
i like the bit with the building blocks, very smart... i like the last verse to, it's inspiring. keep writing, your work is really good.

Soap

This was brilliant. Simply genius.