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lexout's profile
AGE:
39
LOC: Seattle, WA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: April 15
LOC: Seattle, WA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: April 15
I’m scared of recordings of ghosts. I watched a special on ghost recordings and it really got in there, really spooked me. I had a recurring nightmare when I was a growing lad that involved this girl devil doll that was full of unquenchable rage. She would show up and be all sweet, like she wanted to play with me, then, as we were at the beach, making sand pickles, I would notice that her arms and neck were separated from the rest of her body. I would get a tingle over my spine and start to slowly back away from her as her expression would harden, and then she’d show her teeth and I would run away for several hours. I guess it was actually probably three or four seconds. I grew up in a cult (really) and I wet the bed (sleeping bag, actua…
(more)Reviews
there is a rawness, an honesty that spans the length of this piece. In formal but still straightforward prose, the author gets contemplative and only strains the delicate introspection a little when she changes gears subtly and goes from "I slowly sip" to being "wet with wanton perspiration," a shift in intensity that I found jarring, but just a little, like rough hands on silky skin...
This is less a poem and more a psychological study, an introspection. I loved it, but black holes are merely the first fit, try other images that eat away at your meaning, possibly, acid, or bacterium...
excellent. Honest. You gave voice to the experience of wanting love, but finding instead the in between, that relationship that will be minor and lost in memory as the years go by... Helpful hint, instead of "corpse" which lends an overt camp to an otherwise dead serious piece, think about using words that are truer to your experience... I would maybe use words like, "husk, vessel, blankness, nihility, nothingness, nullity, vacuum, or even want" Keep it up, I know exactly how you feel...
My first insinct is to ask that you forget the rhyming, it doesn't work for you in that it forces you to push your words to fit the thoughts rather than the thoughts giving birth to the right words... In all my travels, I've found that a good poet enjoys the ride and when rhymes pop up, the author gives them room to celebrate. I enjoyed the tone of your poem, calm and hopeful, through the daunting and foreboding of the coming storm... Keep it up!!
Wow. Really pretty darn good! Good, that is, after the almost crippling cliche that starts the whole piece. Remember that, like "morning," "silence" can be SO MANY MORE things than simply "broken" In fact, I've NEVER observed silence being broken, but rather, replaced, usurped, denied, attenuated, blended, contaminated, corrupted, defiled, dissolved, mixed, polluted, tainted, thinned, vitiated, a whole bunch of odd, but applicable feelings... The lines that propel this piece to greatnes inclu...
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