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Psychonautslog's profile
AGE:
50
LOC: Germany
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 09
LOC: Germany
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 09
Thanks to Lori and Paul I came to this site, both are intern at urbis. com.
I try to follow every request for a
review, but it may take some time.
Quality in writing needs patience!
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Next life, (I pray to the gods every night, Sir), next life I will be born in Europe. I will have a beautiful, white skin, (like yours, Sir), a wallet, filled with Euro and Dollar (also yours). Sir, I have five children, their stomachs are always hungry. Sunita, my oldest daughter, is very dark. Who will ever marry such a dark girl? She is using fairness creme every day. Please enter my humble shop now: purchase this thing or that, a carpet, a shawl, and her...
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So the Christian spoke to me: I have fought the good fight, I have won the race, the crown of life will be given to me. And I answered: Brother, I do not know, if my fight was good. Yet I know for sure, that to grow was a struggle, and twisting branches towards the light, one does not always grow straight. So the Muslim spoke to me: I will rest in that garden forever, where shady trees grow on the shores of cool rivers and flowers bloom in abundance....
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Child, you grow day by day. Think, when you grow, think of trees. Look, how they stretch to the light, look again, learn: their branches are arms playing with the ball of the sun. Play with the light, child, stretch out for it more and more. Play light like a ball, for light is the life itself. Next see the roots, those old roots, gnarled down into the deep, feeling for the sap of earth. Never forget the roots, sink them deep also: with them you wil...
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Germany, 1939. The house was huge and old. Just the kind of house, you would expect to meet at the start of this story: creaky, wooden staircases, filled with musty smells, leading from a dark, labyrinthine cellar up to an attic, containing even more than the usual amount of cobwebs and chests, which might hide the treasure of pirates, yet would need an iron to break them apart, because their keys were long lost. The little girl, who played among them, strands of cobwebs woven into her...
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See the cryptic writing on the wall, In thousand colors a single name. This graffiti ten meters tall, Me and my "I" on the road to fame. A riddle solve, now prophets call, Let sages guess, kings play their game. See, how they shiver, huddle in the hall. Old empires shake, yet who is to blame? The time has come, the age of the fall: On feet of clay you stumble to shame!
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I suggest to arrange the order of words and sentences slightly different and to improve the rhythm at the same time. I feel the poem would not loose content, yet gain even deeper impact. I agree with previous critiques, that the title should be broader. For example it could convey a hint of rotation: "Around A Bright Yellow Sun". My arrangement: "around a bright yellow sun" of my countrymen I dreamed all of us looking at each other in different ways beneath white clouds on a tiny blue planet ...
It´s a quite funny poem with a funny rhyme and rhythm too, fitting the subject of being in a restless state of mind and body. Adding a word here and letting it out there would even improve the impact more. ("I pace and I pace with my heart QUITE racing...")... For example: Line Nr. 1 = very good (three times stressed!) Line Nr. 2 = add a short word between my and heart Line Nr. 3 = more intent on the "rhyme" between can´t and stand My version: I am stressed, stressed stressed right down to th...
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