07-10-2015, 05:15 AM
Like a feather’s gentle breath, kissing at my soft flesh.
Biddable, the tight thin lip, graze’s on a cream field of skin. i've got google ready to go now. what's "graze's on a cream field of skin" mean? do you mean "grazes"?
A soft skirr, a lover’s touch, in searching tryst of veiled lust. "in searching tryst"?- what?
Each caress, delicate, concealing a vicious natured tongue. "natured" is unnecessary here.
Hollow laughter beckons, calling like an honest, well known friend. "well-known", right?-
False innocence swathes, tainting the purity flowing beneath. can't tell if you mean "swathes" or "swaths" here- but this is confusing. what's the purity flowing beneath? false innocence? huh?
Keening strings tug at my grip, crying, to bring force to desire.
Resistance breaks, as a wave upon the exposed ivory shore.
Like a sensuous finger guided by instinct it traces slowly.
A honed edge so kind and cool, licking at my hot bare arm.
Aching, drawn across the trembling limb, it so longs to taste.
A gleam coats the surface, reflecting my vulnerable wrist.
Suspended; held back by vacant thought, forced on by desire.
The tipping point inches forward, precipitous, to the unfeeling cliff.
Invisible tortured hands vie for control over my shaking own.
Eerie calm takes hold, but who is the master and who the slave?
Adoring, bare, the verge of freedom begging to savour life.
Bittersweet and innocent, let loose this life as the brink bites.
Mantling, with liquid passion the dull metal, glistens wet. second comma not needed.
Happiness spills, like rain, running on the face of a child. alright, to me this poem (so far) is describing an awakening of some sort. i would be inclined to say sexual.
Dripping ecstasy, the steel lip grins, a silent apocryphal smile.
Life joined to the lifeless, pleasure to pain, hope to eternity. this line doesn't make any sense. you're trying to make a connection between these things- don't jam it all into one line. far too confusing. requires too much thinking.
From me it flows, my hurt, my ache, my essence, and prison. all your lines have the same structure. mix it up! make it more interesting just by varying the structure, even if your words remain the same.
Were but this my only burden, I could be free in effusion's flow. grammatical error: were this but. effusion's flow? too many half-baked ideas rolling around here. pick a few and expand.
My bars are rent, I am open, bare to the breath of the world. too many commas. you've got to break this up a bit or it ends up turning into a run-on sentence. x the commas and replace it with a sturdier form of punctuation.
Tears finally come forth, with pooling cruor, ink writing pain. cruor doesn't even have a google definition... either way, same thing as above- too many commas. same thing
Cerise and clear, metal and salt, they burn at my torn canvas.
Evidence bares forth, no longer whole, broken for all to see.
Afore the dam held strong, but breached, the flood washes anew. is "afore" really necessary? you just couldn't say "before", could you?
History repeats, the tide goes out, and it will come yet again. you know what? i'm calling this structure the double-comma structure. it's the same! the same all the way through!
I am cold as the ground, and the blade, and soon colder still.
Do voices seek me or am I calling to myself, the whist stranger? according to google, whist is an english trick-taking card game. is that what you meant? a stranger who plays whist? otherwise i don't quite get this line. but i do like that i can sort of understand this.
.~*~.
alright, alright. since you've written such a beastly poem (i mean it in a good way ), i gave it more critique that this "mild critique forum" requires. i dunno. i read your bit on your fondness of not-so-common words, and although i'm quite the opposite, i respect that.
i think i'm the wrong person to be writing this critique... anyhow, some thoughts on the whole: the words are quite beautiful. but this needs a massive paring down. the lines are a bit long and i can't get a sense of connection from line to line, which is exacerbated by the vocabulary and "thinking" that it initiates. each line is a sentence, since you end every single one in a period. it makes for a jarring read. as for taking this somewhere, i think you should strip this poem of its luxurious language for a tad bit in your head, and then think about what you're really trying to say. there'a difference between high-and-mighty-and-archaic-and-totally-unnecessary and eloquently-articulate language.
all i've really got to say is: pare it down. please. not necessarily the language, but the structure could be given a very firm shaking up. otherwise, i like the imagery and vocabulary here. i do think that with polish, this could turn out to be quite a something.
43.
Biddable, the tight thin lip, graze’s on a cream field of skin. i've got google ready to go now. what's "graze's on a cream field of skin" mean? do you mean "grazes"?
A soft skirr, a lover’s touch, in searching tryst of veiled lust. "in searching tryst"?- what?
Each caress, delicate, concealing a vicious natured tongue. "natured" is unnecessary here.
Hollow laughter beckons, calling like an honest, well known friend. "well-known", right?-
False innocence swathes, tainting the purity flowing beneath. can't tell if you mean "swathes" or "swaths" here- but this is confusing. what's the purity flowing beneath? false innocence? huh?
Keening strings tug at my grip, crying, to bring force to desire.
Resistance breaks, as a wave upon the exposed ivory shore.
Like a sensuous finger guided by instinct it traces slowly.
A honed edge so kind and cool, licking at my hot bare arm.
Aching, drawn across the trembling limb, it so longs to taste.
A gleam coats the surface, reflecting my vulnerable wrist.
Suspended; held back by vacant thought, forced on by desire.
The tipping point inches forward, precipitous, to the unfeeling cliff.
Invisible tortured hands vie for control over my shaking own.
Eerie calm takes hold, but who is the master and who the slave?
Adoring, bare, the verge of freedom begging to savour life.
Bittersweet and innocent, let loose this life as the brink bites.
Mantling, with liquid passion the dull metal, glistens wet. second comma not needed.
Happiness spills, like rain, running on the face of a child. alright, to me this poem (so far) is describing an awakening of some sort. i would be inclined to say sexual.
Dripping ecstasy, the steel lip grins, a silent apocryphal smile.
Life joined to the lifeless, pleasure to pain, hope to eternity. this line doesn't make any sense. you're trying to make a connection between these things- don't jam it all into one line. far too confusing. requires too much thinking.
From me it flows, my hurt, my ache, my essence, and prison. all your lines have the same structure. mix it up! make it more interesting just by varying the structure, even if your words remain the same.
Were but this my only burden, I could be free in effusion's flow. grammatical error: were this but. effusion's flow? too many half-baked ideas rolling around here. pick a few and expand.
My bars are rent, I am open, bare to the breath of the world. too many commas. you've got to break this up a bit or it ends up turning into a run-on sentence. x the commas and replace it with a sturdier form of punctuation.
Tears finally come forth, with pooling cruor, ink writing pain. cruor doesn't even have a google definition...
either way, same thing as above- too many commas. same thing Cerise and clear, metal and salt, they burn at my torn canvas.
Evidence bares forth, no longer whole, broken for all to see.
Afore the dam held strong, but breached, the flood washes anew. is "afore" really necessary? you just couldn't say "before", could you?
History repeats, the tide goes out, and it will come yet again. you know what? i'm calling this structure the double-comma structure. it's the same! the same all the way through!
I am cold as the ground, and the blade, and soon colder still.
Do voices seek me or am I calling to myself, the whist stranger? according to google, whist is an english trick-taking card game. is that what you meant? a stranger who plays whist? otherwise i don't quite get this line. but i do like that i can sort of understand this.
.~*~.
alright, alright. since you've written such a beastly poem (i mean it in a good way
), i gave it more critique that this "mild critique forum" requires. i dunno. i read your bit on your fondness of not-so-common words, and although i'm quite the opposite, i respect that. i think i'm the wrong person to be writing this critique... anyhow, some thoughts on the whole: the words are quite beautiful. but this needs a massive paring down. the lines are a bit long and i can't get a sense of connection from line to line, which is exacerbated by the vocabulary and "thinking" that it initiates. each line is a sentence, since you end every single one in a period. it makes for a jarring read. as for taking this somewhere, i think you should strip this poem of its luxurious language for a tad bit in your head, and then think about what you're really trying to say. there'a difference between high-and-mighty-and-archaic-and-totally-unnecessary and eloquently-articulate language.
all i've really got to say is: pare it down. please. not necessarily the language, but the structure could be given a very firm shaking up. otherwise, i like the imagery and vocabulary here. i do think that with polish, this could turn out to be quite a something.
43.
like you've been shot (bang bang bang)