One of your most emotionally-wrenching pieces, Leanne. What a great piece.
(12-05-2011, 10:29 AM)Leanne Wrote: Oh mother, where’s your little girl now?
golden brown beneath an incandescent
sun, shiver swung from electric noose as God I love love love incandescent sun and electric noose, it colours the harsh reality this scene paints into something dreamy; perfect breaks at "incandescent" and "God", teasing the metaphors
laughs like the terrier next door, ratcatcher yelps hmm, "God laughs"... I like it, but I wonder if you could be more adventurous with the sound, to play up the wrongness/disjoint. Just a very, very minor comment though, I actually rather like it even as is.
and hard biscuit yawns.
Christmas carries sex upon its breath, sackfuls of
naughty whisper ice is nicest when it’s
free. Note the catch and kiss of missed and may
be shush, there’s good, let’s spoon it up. Nicely balanced. Like that you resisted using "Santa" as that would've changed your tone to something more ham-handed
Mother waits with empty boxes
every year, Pandora’s treasure passing by on ragged
wings -- those she wore that day when promise
wandered westward, folio in hand. Now the tree
stands bare, shedding needles on the floor.
Can you hear the bells? All is well.
Celebrate. The world rejoices in glorious rebuke.
What is one star, when a galaxy is alight? This is an incredibly beautiful line. In context, it is so painful and hopeless. You really know how to pack a wallop
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?