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At 3/29/05 01:14 PM, Mokk wrote: I'll join. I do comedy.

Welcome, post your stuff for review and critique.

Give me an idea (a parody, whatever) and I'll write a script for it.

Hmm, havnt any ideas. Just write about a normal day and try and make it as funny as possible. Just a normal day at school or w/e.

****************************************

P.S. Critique for my script is still welcome. It is my first one, so i would like it to help me improve. ^_^

Is no one around today?

Anyway reminder that WOR is back up, it isn't getting much action, but i am going to try and keep it going until it has fully died again. : P Which i hope does not happen.

hey i wanna be in this thing. Im a poet i am :)

At 3/30/05 01:01 PM, voodoochile420 wrote: hey i wanna be in this thing. Im a poet i am :)

Welcome.post some of your stuff so we can see what you can do :-)

Hoefully I will be able to make mroe frequent visits to NG soon so I'll be able to catch up on WoR etc. So Myst if your wondeirng I still want WoR to continue but lack of time is a serious issue for me at the minute.

At 3/30/05 01:20 PM, -Manic- wrote:

At 3/30/05 01:01 PM, voodoochile420 wrote: hey i wanna be in this thing. Im a poet i am :)

Welcome.post some of your stuff so we can see what you can do :-)

Welcome. I would like to see your poetry.

Hoefully I will be able to make mroe frequent visits to NG soon so I'll be able to catch up on WoR etc. So Myst if your wondeirng I still want WoR to continue but lack of time is a serious issue for me at the minute.

Ya, i know... i forgot you were telling me about your busy schedule, well if no one else posts i will let it sit until you get back and caught up with your business away from NG. ^_^

okay here it is. I posted it on another thread in here but im almost sure no one read it. its kind of a song/poem but whatever. Please tell me what you think.

"Feel as though"
Floatin down a river got a bottle of dreams and i think i gotta good mind of what matters to me, but frequently and mostly without warning someone/something comes along and over broken shattered shards I'm left mourning. Put em back together; good as new with a little bit of spite and some sativa glue cos I DONT LET ANYBODY TELL ME WHAT TO DO! Gotta be sharp yeah you gotta be quick cos everything happens so fast and it’s makin’ me sad and sick. This is all like a strange ride in an overcrowded bus that’s going at speeds that you never can trust, and everyone is screaming, NO YOUR NOT ONE OF US! I wanna go slow and take it all in lay in the roses and blow with the wind. Just live a little; bit at a time and have some fun, with a girl on my arm and my face in the sun. But i feel as though that can never be done cos the bus is leaving and I'm left on the run. I feel as though I've got something to do not sure what is and if you found out first you'd tell me wouldn't you? I feel as though i should break down and cry but no tears ever come and i don't know why. I feel as though I’ve got nowhere to go. I feel as though i got something to say but no one to listen, oh well anyway. Yeah i am lost in my own room in the dark and the only sound i hear is the incessant beating of my heart, or maybe the crash as i fall apart. Devoid of the light I feel Im at the mercy of the night. Sit down on the floor cos its always near try and face my fear, but the more i stare the more im scared. I can close my eyes but the shadows are still there. I know their not real but that does not effect the way I feel. Well im lost in my mind trying to find some sense but all i see is juxtaposed nonsense, overly confident ignorance, deadly black foreboding, and hateful self loathing always un-condoning.

So finally someone posted in the WOR? I was starting to get lonely...

i have returned after my senior trip to fucking Disney World motherfuckers. i am sorry to say that Disney is over-rated. oh well. i also have a new name. i am Lazer12, but i found out how to change my name. ok, i realized that my poetry doesnt always have a good rhyme scheme, but i say fuck that. poetry doesnt always need to rhyme. before i forget, i read the script and i think it is very funny but it is thought provoking as well. the poem where the writer said something along the lines of "look who's having another bad day", i enjoyed that poem very much, it was great, i wish i could make things rhyme so easily. but i dont like to think long about rhymes. one more thing before i post some more of my fucking poetry: What is WoR?

More of My Fucking Poetry by LaughingInsanity. please tell me what you think.

i cant remember when i wrote this one, it wasnt long ago.
My Pit

The Pain is with me Always
It Never goes Away
Please Make it Stop
So I can Live another Day.

Help me Now
Please Help me Soon
Save me from this World
Save me from my Ruin.

I don’t want it Anymore
I can’t Take It
It Never Stops
Please free me from My Pit.

i wrote this one while sitting in the food court at the resort in Florida, on my trip, the reason i am supposed to be happy is because i was in Disney World and i wanted to go to Disney World since i was 4, that was 13 years ago.
I’m Supposed to be Happy

I’m Supposed to be HAPPY
I’m Supposed to be GLAD.
I’m Not Supposed to be LONELY
I’m Not Supposed to be SAD.
I’m Supposed to be HAPPY
I’m Supposed to SMILE.
I’m Not Supposed to be ANGRY
I’m Not Supposed to feel VILE!
I’m Supposed to be HAPPY
I’m Supposed to CHEER.
I’m Not Supposed to be STRANGE
I’m Not Supposed to feel FEAR.
I’m Supposed to be HAPPY
I’m Supposed to CHEER.
I’m Not Supposed to be LONELY
I’m Not Supposed to hold a TEAR.

i wrote this one just after the last one, i was feeling a lot of stuff as you can tell by reading the poem. there is a girl involved. the "you" in the poem refers to a girl i like.
Why do I Feel this Way?!

Why do I feel this way?
So Violated.
So Isolated.
I’m always so Alone
I can’t even make a friend
I don’t care about the latest trend
I just want to feel better.

Why do I feel this way?
So Angry.
So Lonely.
No one wants to help
I don’t know what to do
I want to do everything for You
I just want to make You smile.

Why do I feel this way?
So Forgotten.
So Alone.
I don’t know what to do
I don’t know what to say
I want to see you today
But you always go away.

Why do I feel this way?
So Betrayed.
So Angry.
You sit so pretty with your friends
I get no time to talk
I just walk where you walk
Nothing ever goes right.

Why do I feel this way?
So Angry!
So Alone!
I don’t know the cure
I just want it to stop
Please help me before I lose myself and drop
You alone seem to help.

Why do I feel this way?
So Confused.
So Happy.
I think of the good with you
Then I remember how life seems to wane
I always feel the pain
Even when I think of you.

Why do I feel this way?
So Angry at Myself.
So Alone.
I can’t do anything to help myself
Only you can ease my Sorrow
Make me feel better for tomorrow
Even though the Pain always follows.

I’m Sorry.
I’m Sorry for Myself
I’m Sorry for My Pain
Why am I so Broken?

i wrote this one after a conversation with the girl from the last poem.
I am the Curséd Soul

I am the Curséd Soul
Who knows no pleasure
Who knows only Pain
This Pain I cannot measure
It haunts me like a stain
On my WRETCHED Soul.

I do not cry
My heart is black
My heart is crying
I know only Pain.

I am the Curséd Soul
And nothing ever goes right for me!

i wrote this one about a half an hour ago.
Untitled

My motivation flies away with my soul
Leaving me nothing but a dark wall
Breathing a new face into my own
Carving my mask of emotion
I live on as though I am happy
I know no fear
For I do not care
I could fake a life for the mass of people
Then cry alone in my own steeple
No one needs to know my pain
To see that everything is the same

i wrote this one a day after the Cursed Soul poem. i had time to think and i realized i was mad at the girl. it is number 2 because number one was lost in my head because i was washing dishes when i thought of it, then i forgot a lot of it. the next two poems are the result of what i remembered. the quality of the poetry dropped dramatically. please forgive me. she told me "I should have told you before". this is angry poetry.
what she should have told me was that she had a boyfriend. arg.
I Should Have Told You Before II

You should have told me before I got my hopes up
You should have told me before you led me on
Before I got my hopes high
You should have told me before that i didnt have a chance
Even though I'm a nice guy
I feel everyone is trying to make me die
You said it was fun...
After you led me on
You broke my hopes
You cracked my spirit
You hurt my soul
You did it real nice, but you can't cover this hole
This terrible hole of despair
You make me feel new and alive
You make me feel broken
Thanks for the hand but its a little late
You can see my hate
Only after we've spoken
I come back with a wrath
A grinding pain
My machine is full of rage
(even i think it kinda sucks but please read the next one, i assure you it is better)

I Should Have Told You Before III

You should have told me before...
before you led me on
Before you hurt my heart...
almost made me fall apart
The anger is fine
I'm used to it
The despair is mine
I'm full of it
You led me on
and made me feel so good...
Then you ripped it all away
just like a changing mood
You let me down...
made me feel so wrong

this is the follow up poem to the last one
What Were You Thinking

What were you thinking?
Or were you thinking at all?
When you betrayed my soul!
I felt so good
I felt like I couldn't fall
But you weren't thinking!!
You made me so mad i could maul!
You weren't thinking when you played with my life...
Led me into this strife.
What were you thinking when you weren't thinking
of yourself?

i know the maul line isnt very good but what else could i have used that rhymes with fall, and is angry.

please tell me what you think.

i forgot one. this was my attempt at a happier poem, i dont know how much happier it is though.

The Darkened Day
Sometimes the Darkened days
Become Bright
Sometimes the Brilliant rays
Bring Light
Sometimes the Terrible life
Loses Hate
Never does the Sharpest knife
Make it Great
Never does the Depression stay
To hold back the Joy
Sometimes the Beautiful day
Comes without a ploy

At 3/30/05 08:11 PM, WithoutCease wrote: So finally someone posted in the WOR? I was starting to get lonely...

I did before and i am going to check in a minute.

At 3/30/05 08:28 PM, LaughingInsanity wrote: Stuff-ith

It was a long ass post and you had some good stuff i nthere for sure. I don't want to critique it piece by piece, but some of your poetry tells me that you are on the right track. Good stuff.

Oh, and, welcome back. ^_^

At 3/30/05 08:53 PM, LaughingInsanity wrote: i forgot one. this was my attempt at a happier poem, i dont know how much happier it is though.

Clever rhyme and meter, a decent poem that i enjoyed reading.

At 3/30/05 08:28 PM, LaughingInsanity wrote:

Okay, i decided i wil lgo through them a bit and give a couple comments, but then i got to jet, because i got an article to write for the mag that is due tomorrow for the new month (well the next, next month - dam nthem keeping me ahead a month) and i havnt completed it yet.

My Pit

Clever outake and symbolism. It was an easy read, nothing spectacular, but good and solid.

I’m Supposed to be Happy

Very juvenlie for a poem, but an interesting approach. Simple rhyme scheme and pattern, but a good message. It was decent, but you've done better.

Why do I Feel this Way?!

Very very repedative, which is good for a younger audience, like garde 9 lit or something. Love is a hard thing to be not cliche about in a poem, but surpacing these bounds come with practice. Some lines made me think of like a rapper, not that is bad by any means - some rappers can be good poets - but it didnt flow with the rest. Not your best, but a good, easy read.

I am the Curséd Soul

Short and quite clever really... the stain part seemed out of context, luckily the next linbe pulled it togethor. It was a nive piece. Good work.

Untitled

Very good, my favourite thus far. Your meter and rhyme etc wasn't there, but it flowed and the words moved with one another in an odd, intriguing way. Ireally like this one.

I Should Have Told You Before II
I Should Have Told You Before III

Both of these were quite good, not amazing, but good. More of a personal poem i think then anything, i kind of got bored part way through.

What Were You Thinking

Kind of clice really, it seemed cheesy. Not that your emotions are cheesy, but maybe extreme for the circumstance, or somewhat off contetx, not sure what it is, but it is not a fav.

Overall, your poerty is generall quite young. Your are writing pieces that of caliber i would write when i was younger. You are on the right track, but practice will improve you. Try seeking challenges. Anything that seems to hard to put into poetry at first is usually worth giving a shot for the learning factor. Don't force it either, some of them seemed forced and were somewhat cliche or 'bleh' compared to the two or three that seemed natural and i found quite good. You have some talents, they just need shaping. Some very good work, and some not so good work. Overall, decent.

Don't take it to heart, i am just being honest. Two of them were very good, while a few were not all that good. Just seems like you sometimes let it flow naturally and other times you force it. You know what I mean?

Good on ya anyways.

I need a metaphor for electricity. Help!

when i say ,etaphor what I mean is similie!

myst critique my poem man i need some feed back to see if it needs revision.

wonderful, i finally get something i want. thank you for being honest. I'm going to post the first chapter of my book soon, hopefully. the book i am writing is something i am putting all my creative power in and i know that i won't be finished anytime soon. i am so excited and i feel like a frickin' creative genius because i have done something only a complete nerd would do... ...I have created an alphabet for the world of my story. HAHA! I should create a language, but that would be a lot of work. i have decided that i would like to post an update of my book writing progress on here, probably, maybe wednesdays. but anyway everyone be on the look out for the first chapter of my book soon, it is long so it will probably be in around 10 parts. sorry if i pissed anyone off.

At 3/31/05 04:41 PM, -Manic- wrote: when i say ,etaphor what I mean is similie!

3 similes for electricity

electricity is like a flowing river
electricity is like a quick pain
electricity is like a spreading disease

At 3/31/05 04:47 PM, LaughingInsanity wrote:

At 3/31/05 04:41 PM, -Manic- wrote: when i say ,etaphor what I mean is similie!

3 similes for electricity

electricity is like a flowing river
electricity is like a quick pain
electricity is like a spreading disease

hmmmm thank you. That river one I like. cheers mate most appreciated :-)

here is one i wrote after watching american history X agian i posted it on somthing else but it got ignored haha:
Hate is the Evil
Hate is the evil. Hate is the negative force that makes life unsatisfying and tragic. Hate is prejudice and the death of will, tact, and character. Hate is the most intense emotion there is, even more so than love because it drives you to such extremes and insanity and in some cases has capacity to render you inhuman. Hate is a cliche that has not yet and never will lose its concise meaning and inherent power no matter how many times it is used in any manner. Hate is the eater of beauty and antithesis of hope. Hate makes fists tremble and teeth clench. Hate fires guns in schools. Hate starts wars. Hate strikes faces with both extended tongues and open palms. Hate like love is indiscriminate but settles in easier and much more frequently. Once hate has its roots in the sods of an individuals infinite will it is impossible to up root it. Once it gnashes its talons into the flesh of its host it will not stop until it can guide its perch to a victim and ventilate any and all of its basic components that the specific host may harbor inside itself until something is left shaded and/or dead. Hate is the iron supposedly impenetrable padlock that prevents Peace from crossing the threshold and ushering in the Romantic Renaissance Eternal of Love. Where there is nothing but complete enlightenment and acceptance and love is the fad and the sure fire way to win attention and a cheap laugh. Peace is the key but it cannot be put to the lock without the proper hands to guide it. Hate is a circle. A snake biting its own tail slowly consuming itself but still growing slowly and surely despite the pain. Growing steadily and increasing in magnitude and size just barely enough to survive. Hate tells lies in your ear as it sits beside you so as to conceal its true nature and give you no chance to look directly into its coal black burning eyes. All you have to rely on is two things your peripheral vision, which is notoriously unreliable and synonymous with deceptive and in putting trust in it you are making yourself a great deal weaker. The other we would logically think that you rely on would be instinct; that is not the case however. Instinct is too pure and efficient for hate to allow you to use, so it must put you at enough ease that you disarm your tried and true animalistics so it can pass straight to the auxiliary which is your sense of trust. Trust is easily won because of promises and niceties and hate makes promises as transparent as pristine glass but also as aesthetically pleasing. The victim becomes so memorized by these promises of revenge and salvation that they begin to stare. They begin to stare and once you stare long enough you begin to look through and lose yourself and reality and discretion fall out the proverbial fucking window. You let down all your guard and you begin to believe. And belief is a strong thing. Belief is like a skeleton key card that allows Hate to waltz right through all your defenses and passages. No matter if they are archaic and age proven or flawless stainless steel testaments to new age efficiency they are not only useless but according to your present cognitive processes, considered hindrances and perhaps even special care is being instituted to make sure that so alarms are sounded and that all trips wires are removed. People have been dying over nothing more than Belief since the beginning of organized religion and even earlier. However, Belief in it self is good. But Belief and Hate matched together is unmatched by anything and is deadly; like and as black dripping venom either separate or consolidated. Belief is actually the mother of hate. But it is of the breed of malevolence and passes on this darkest of inclinations to its young hate like a hereditary birth defect. Once a soul has completely drowned in hate there are no methods to resuscitate them. They are lost to blackness and Death. Everyone that hates has a hunger for death. That is their end, their absolution. Death at the hands of malice is truly torturesome. That soul on whatever plain of existence it now inhabits must exist with the knowledge that someone did not feel that they had the freedom to even The most basic right of existence. The right to live. Hate is the consumer and producer. The destroyer of all that it creates. If there is a god then Hate is its pole opposite. Hate has an agenda that is sometimes hidden and sometimes brandished about wild and flagrantly. Hate is ignorance and a means of swan song desperation for the totally incompetent. Hate is labels spewed forth with such conviction that the recipient is left wounded on one level or another. Hate is dark. Hate is abyss. Hate is hopelessness. Hate is death.

At 3/30/05 05:36 PM, voodoochile420 wrote: okay here it is. I posted it on another thread in here but im almost sure no one read it. its kind of a song/poem but whatever. Please tell me what you think.

As requested i will review...

"Feel as though"

Floatin down a river

Um, punctuation and conjuction is scarice in this poem - like after this part and before 'got'.

got a bottle of dreams and i think i gotta good mind of what matters to me, but frequently and mostly without warning someone/something comes along and over broken shattered shards I'm left mourning.

Goof rhyme and flow, but fragmented sentences and lack of punctuation. If it were in stanzas it may be easier to read, but as a pargraph it makes little sense without reading it slowly and individually. Grammatically it makes no sense at all really.

Put em back together;

A lot of slang and colloquialisms which could be a style you are going for, but make sure grammar is accuarte to make it more affective. Like the lin above should have a punctauion like this: "Put'em back togathor"... or you just spelt "me" as "em" by mistake, either way, sloppy editing.

good as new with a little bit of spite and some sativa glue cos I DONT LET ANYBODY TELL ME WHAT TO DO! Gotta be sharp yeah you gotta be quick cos everything happens so fast and it’s makin’ me sad and sick. This is all like a strange ride in an overcrowded bus that’s going at speeds that you never can trust, and everyone is screaming, NO YOUR NOT ONE OF US!

Very powerful lyrics in the piece. A very intriguing piece. I want you to know that i really, really like it, but it is hard to follow with all the mistakes. Like the grammar in this is so very poor. I think maybe it was divided into lines and stanzas before but was jumbled togathor? Maybe?

I wanna go slow and take it all in lay in the roses and blow with the wind. Just live a little; bit at a time and have some fun, with a girl on my arm and my face in the sun. But i feel as though that can never be done cos the bus is leaving and I'm left on the run.

Things like "cos" should be like: 'cos... because it is slang and even slang has appropriate grammar, though i must admit, very good rhyme scheme and meter scheme... it flows very, very well.

I feel as though I've got something to do not sure what is and if you found out first you'd tell me wouldn't you?

Between "do" and "not" it just connects, it doesn't even make sense grammatically. See what i am getting to with your grammar. Bad grammar makes it difficult to read and makes it annoying, because i cant just enjoy it for its lyrics. Get a peer, friend, or family member to edit it for you, then you edit it again yourself, and then re-submit it so i can enjoy it at its best.

I feel as though i should break down and cry but no tears ever come and i don't know why. I feel as though I’ve got nowhere to go. I feel as though i got something to say but no one to listen, oh well anyway. Yeah i am lost in my own room in the dark and the only sound i hear is the incessant beating of my heart, or maybe the crash as i fall apart.

Take out the "Yeah" at the beginning fo the sentence... little too juvenile there. Put "so" or something else that is less child-like. You know?

Devoid of the light I feel Im at the mercy of the night. Sit down on the floor cos its always near try and face my fear, but the more i stare the more im scared. I can close my eyes but the shadows are still there. I know their not real but that does not effect the way I feel. Well im lost in my mind trying to find some sense but all i see is juxtaposed nonsense, overly confident ignorance, deadly black foreboding, and hateful self loathing always un-condoning.

Well, man, this is hard to review. Like meter and rhyme was amazing. Very unique lyrics and a beautifully expressed piece, but omg, your writing is aweful. Your choice of words is fine, but the way you structure it as one on-going praragraph is bad... not only bad-intimdating, but bad-confusing and bad structuarlly. Aside from that stanzas (paragraphing), the grammar is rediculously bad also. Like i said before, get someone to edit it after you space it out in stanzas or something. Before you have a finished pice, you should edit it twice yourself. I can't even go through this and edit it for you the way it is. It is that bad, but if you were to divide it up and clean it up structurally and edit it over once yourself, and re-post, i may be willing to also take a look at editing, but a fair warning, editing is not a strong point of mine.

Overall, your work is surprisingly good in context, but your writing is quite poor. Grammar is something you really need to practice. It is okay to be bad grammatically on NG and make typos, but a written piece should be to the best of your ability.

Good work though, it is a start.

well thank you very much. yeah grammar is my weakpoint and punctuation well i know how to use periods question marks and exclamation points but other than that is fucking non existent i think its cos i have MASSIVE ADD haha. i liked your review and i will get someone to edit my stuff in the future. again thank you and when you get around to it please do the same for hate is the evil. thanks a lot man names jason by the way cos voodoochile420 is cumbersome so call me that any way peace. And tell me what you think of hate is the evil

At 3/31/05 04:18 PM, Myst_Williams wrote:

Untitled

Very good, my favourite thus far. Your meter and rhyme etc wasn't there, but it flowed and the words moved with one another in an odd, intriguing way. Ireally like this one.

Yeah...um...

Would that one be mine? Sorry, I'm kinda slow...x.x

Here's a new one. I'm a little nervous about posting it, as it is complete and utter crap, but:

Reality

I opened my eyes to see a large room with posters covering the wall. I didn't read them, I was just looking at all of the rows of sleeping bags similar to the one I was in. Seems that I'm the last one awake. I got up and cheerfully walked into a room of misfits. Even though they didn't look it, they were all friends. This was a place where no one was judged. It was eternal happiness. And although I had never been there, I was no stranger to it. I was a friend.

Who keeps talking outside my door? Will they stop? Will they go away? I'm not worried. I know him. We're relatives. But I'm not sure who he is. I'm not sure if I will be able to get this out right...let alone even write it.

I knew someone here very well. She knew me, too. More than friends. Less than siblings. We were casual when people were around, but we loved each other so much. We were perectly comfortable with it, which was a first for me. We took each other away from reality. It was a perfect love that no one knew of. If they did, they understood. And at night, when no one was looking, we kissed. It was not something very big, we were just verifying and embracing our love. And it was unimaginably perfect in an odd way.

I don't feel very good about this. I'm going to walk away. My fingers are glued to the keys, moving and typing in a mindless, robotic way. And who is the person that speaks so loudly outside my door, in the hallway? What are they doing there? Why are they causing so much noise? Should I investigate or let it go? Such a simple thing can tear your mind apart, such as the creaking noise I am constantly hearing along with the person talking.

I want to meet her again. I am now in a world of prejudice and judgement because of the wrong shirt or the wrong shoes. There, I wasn't short, and I wasn't teased. Definitely not by her. I just want to remember what she looks like, who she is. Subconsciously, I love her. It's surprising, how one can love what they can't remember. Every dream makes a world of contradiction to mortality. That was a place where contradiction was a law accompanied only by peace. That was a place where, unlike here, cleanliness was hidden under the dirt.

At 4/1/05 12:15 AM, squee5000 wrote: Reality
I opened my eyes to see a large room with posters covering the wall. I didn't read them, I was just looking at all of the rows of sleeping bags similar to the one I was in. Seems that I'm the last one awake. I got up and cheerfully walked into a room of misfits. Even though they didn't look it, they were all friends. This was a place where no one was judged. It was eternal happiness. And although I had never been there, I was no stranger to it. I was a friend.

More description needed tell the reader what the Sleeping bags looekd ike what was on the posters etc.

it wasn;t that abd it's interesting certainly but needs more description and needs to be mroe complx IMO. but those are two pet peeves of mine. See if someone else reviews it and counterbalance what ive said with what they say and then try and re write to improve it.

Ten Stages of Love

Stage one
Love has become the cavity
rotting out my heart
So take your tools
and give me a free cleaning

Stage two
Hate has become the only seed
growing in my dead garden
Go ahead and water it
You make a lovely weed

Stage three
This mirror has been broken
Seven glass pieces
to represent the seven years
of your bad luck

Stage four
So how does this all tie in
to your five year plan?
With a one night stand
and a four year heart attack

Stage five
Random as you seem
you had it all planned
You're one step away from completing
the twelve step program

Stage six
You forget I knew you
when you were nothing
but gum stuck to the bottom
of society's shoe

Stage seven
So you'll repeat this treatment
with me as your doctor
I'll write you in my report
an incompetent bastardized soul

Stage eight
So here you are with your knife
you claim to be a butcher
but nothing hangs in the meat locker
except your lonesome heart

Stage nine
I dress in black now
to mourn the loss of a heart
that eight stages ago
I called a cavity

Stage ten
I've met the reincarnation
of my idol of Jesus
Trimmed in gold
and I'll forver treasure you

-Rachel Baucum
aka virgino0owhore

That's a ncie little poem you've written there. I cant really think of anything that stand out as being bad and I'm not the bets person to come to for thigns like this but kudos on creating a nice little poem.

Thank you. I have rants as well... but I'm not sure the public is quite ready yet...

At 4/1/05 12:15 AM, squee5000 wrote:

At 3/31/05 04:18 PM, Myst_Williams wrote:

Untitled

Very good, my favourite thus far. Your meter and rhyme etc wasn't there, but it flowed and the words moved with one another in an odd, intriguing way. Ireally like this one.

Yeah...um...

Would that one be mine? Sorry, I'm kinda slow...x.x

Oh, God I AM reterted >_<
METER.
RHYME.
Sorry.

And thanks to the guy that critisized my story. It's always nice to hear constructive critisism.

Ok, I got the nerve up to post some work I did with my friend

Blanche

I have an irrational fear of a bathtub. And it isn’t every bathtub, just my own. And there’s nothing outstandingly terrible about it. Its simply a regular porcelain, oval tub like every other one in me and my husband’s apartment building, simple, discreet, and above all else, conformed.
I can still remember when Jaye and I first got married, we’d went apartment hunting. Back then we were typical eager newlyweds, amazed by every small, stupid detail. We’d settled on Glencove Apartments because it had a great view of the city. It was also very close to the restaurant I worked at. It was so perfect.
Jaye stayed home. He didn’t work a nine-to-five like I did, he was an aspiring artist. He spent the days sleeping in late, drinking a massive intake of coffee and then looking out over the city and maybe sketching a few random things. His serious work was always deep into the night. Many times I had tried to watch him, he refused, it would destroy it for him. So I was always asleep whenever he worked. I never doubted that he worked up to the time I awoke the restaurant in the morning. I’d often wake to find him laying next to me, eyes shut, pad and pencil still in hand.
That was about the most wonderful time of my life. It was simple and it was nothing extraordinary, but it was amazing to me. A majority of my fascination with Jaye was centered around his art. When we first started dating I always found him staring intently at seemingly meaningless things around him. The next day, he’d have this vivid, nightmarish looking depiction of that thing. It was hard to notice, but I could always find weird things embedded in his work, patterns on my clothes, odds and ends of our apartment, and mainly the city.
But, that was Jaye for you. He thrived on imperfection and inequality. I could tell by his mannerisms, he was uncomfortable with perfection and symmetry. That’s probably the reason he proposed to me in the first place. I’m not the good girl next door. Aside from my panic attacks and the paranoid schizophrenia, I am a druggie and alcoholic to the max. Somehow, in Jaye’s twisted view of the world, he saw beauty where there was none. But, after we’d gotten married, I had a long spell of none of my problems interfering. It didn’t last though.
Back to my simple bathtub. Its an evil place. But I created its evil. One night I’d gotten bored in Jaye’s absence. He was off at some sort of art expo, trying to get noticed. Being the impatient and instant gratification-seeking person I am, I drank two or three bottles of hard Vodka.
After being sober for at least four or five months, I’d felt odd having put away so much into my system. I thought it was to be expected and everything would be okay, so I laid on my blue and white tiled kitchen floor, next to the bar stools and stared up at the ceiling. Who knows how long I laid there trying to figure out life in my drunken stupor. All I know was I was convinced before long that I wanted to take a bath. So I picked my drunk ass up off the floor, which was very hard to do, and trudged along my carpeted hall to my bathroom. At the door, I heard knocking, someone wanted in. I wanted a bath.
Where are you going?, Blanche asked.
“Baytwh twab...” I muttered incoherently, dragging my self into the bathroom.
Not smart, Blanche warned.
“Jast a baytwh, kint hart” I slurred, kneeling and turning on the taps.
You’re just going to fuck up again, you always do, we always do, Blanche stood at my back, arms crossed in disapproval.
“I kin tayk ciare ofe maysalf” I was growing very impatient. That damn incessant knocking was hurting my head.
Dammit, Blanche, you don’t hear anything! None of this is tangible! Thought you were better? Thought all that therapy and medication was putting all this in the past?, Blanche said. I wasn’t listening, my body was halfway into the water.
You damn fool!

My foot slipped and I was submerged in suffocating warmth. The taps continued to gush the poison into its vile and I had lowered myself right where I was wanted. I opened my mouth to scream, it only allowed water down into my lungs. I blinked, looking up at the distorted world above the water. The Vodka suddenly weighed a ton in my gut, I couldn’t move my arms, my head, nothing. I fidgeted around a few more minutes, hearing the knocking louder and louder, not knowing where Blanche was. Wanting my husband, needing air. Screaming and moving. Warmth everywhere even inside my lungs and deeply lodged in my gut.
No air...no air. Blanche, Blanche, Blanche.. where?....that’s my name. My name’s Blanche Taylor. Yeah, that’s true. Then who-??

Hospital.
Doctors, nurses, tubes, IVs, fear, blood.
“Are you there?”
(God???)
“Ms..” the white-clad man looked down at the clipboard, “Taylor?”
(Did I answer the door?)
Blanche blinked. Knocking is gone. Not tangible...
I hit the surface.
clarity overcame me forcibly
“Ma’am?” he asked. My eyes adjusted to the bright light. Dr. James. What a John Doe of a name. He wasn’t God. I wasn’t dead. I was in a hospital. I blinked once more.
“Yeah” I croaked out my dry throat.
“Good. You tried to commit suicide??” he asked strictly.
“No I swear, I was just drunk”
Dr. Doe looked at me disapprovingly. He took in the undergrowth of society, I was pure trash, suicidal trash to this man. He turned his back to me and spoke briefly with a nurse in low tones. I had no time for this. It had came back, I wanted Jaye.
“Dr. James where is my husband??” I asked.
He looked as though I were crazier than I already was, “You don’t have one. You called 911 and were picked up”

ohmygod..

Fuck...
Sketchy-sketch-sketch..

“What the hell are you talking about????” I became hysterical, “where is Jaye?????”
“Oh great” he turned away again, “nurse, tranquilizer quickly, we have a delusional schizophrenic” he instructed. She complied and was at my IV, injected sleep back into my veins.
Look what you’ve done!, Blanche hissed behind the glass in the door.
Look!!!! Blanche banged her fists on the door, clawing at the glass inhumanly.

Tears stungmyeyes

Jaye not tangible.... andifellbackintothewarmthagain

oh, i'm sorry, i just noticed that the story i posted lost all it's formatting...so it probably looks a little sloppy and like it's missing quotation marks, but really, parts should have been in italics

At 4/2/05 05:07 AM, _RiVeN_ wrote: we’d went apartment hunting.

"We'd went apartment" hunting? Little tense issue here I think :P I believe you meant to say gone instead of went? or you could change the "we'd" to a we?

Apart from that its a very nice piece. I liked how you described what happened in the bath tub and you managed to create some interesting characters. More description needed in places would make it better in my opinion but that's not really needed all that much. I like it

What was this written for if you don't mind me asking?

At 4/3/05 03:06 PM, -Manic- wrote:
Apart from that its a very nice piece. I liked how you described what happened in the bath tub and you managed to create some interesting characters. More description needed in places would make it better in my opinion but that's not really needed all that much. I like it

What was this written for if you don't mind me asking?

Thanks for reading over it :) I knew there were some errors, because we wrote it so late at night on wordpad and didn't have check it over,

I'm glad you like it. That means a lot.

It wasn't written for anything, this is just what we do in our free time...heh

At 4/3/05 03:13 PM, _RiVeN_ wrote: Thanks for reading over it :) I knew there were some errors, because we wrote it so late at night on wordpad and didn't have check it over,

lol don't worry about it. Everyone makes mistakes and if it was late at night you are gonna make even more than usual :P just tyr and read through and edit it.

I'm glad you like it. That means a lot.

lol. fair enough i don't see why the opinion of a 16 yearold guy on the net is gonna mena that much to you though.

It wasn't written for anything, this is just what we do in our free time...heh

lol. Fair enough. keep on writing then and you'll get betetr. you have some raw talent I think and it can develop. the idea you used in that Sotry was veyr interesting and a hell of a lot better than I can normally come up with so you've got the imagination at least.