/CRIT/

[Anonymous No.14674771]

Last one kind of sputtered out and died
Post prose or poetry or anything else you’d like others to give you feedback on
Especially for poems or longer pieces, please upload them as either screenshots or pastebins so as not to clutter the thread

[Anonymous No.14674826]

I'm worried this is "fake deep".

[Anonymous No.14674848]

[Anonymous No.14674875]

Please review

[Anonymous No.14674910]

>>14674875
A respectfully humble and simple attempt at poetry. I found it sweet, if not groundbreaking
You break/stretch your meter and rhymes every now and then though, be careful of that

[Anonymous No.14674917]

>>14674848
haven't you written anything else in your life

[Anonymous No.14674943]

>>14674917
Of course, I just wrote that two months ago and have been to scared to post it anywhere until recently
I mostly write like that by now so I just want an idea of how it comes off to others and if anyone else gets enjoyment out of it. I won’t post it again after this thread

[Anonymous No.14674950]

>>14674826
Worse than fake deep, it is actively and aggressively bad writing

>>14674848
Now this is fake deep. You aren't Joyce, stop making up words or at least prove yourself first. You have poetry in you but you want too much to show it. The "Thanksgiving" feel here is hit too on the head, if you wanna do this sort of thing you have to dig deeper with your word combinations.

>>14674875
Could be a good song, if given a good melody. Shit poetry though.

[Anonymous No.14674961]

We have a review group now for those interested, email Fourlitreview at yandex.com if you want to be added to the group.
Right now we're looking at prose/stories only.

[Anonymous No.14674968]

>>14674950
>if you wanna do this sort of thing you have to dig deeper with your word combinations.
Interested to hear more about what you mean here

[Anonymous No.14675044]

>>14674950
Ok. I want to know what you think about this piece.

[Anonymous No.14675530]

Bumo

[Anonymous No.14675661]

bump

[Anonymous No.14675752]

https://pastebin.com/eBGefayt

Short story I wrote, any criticism would be nice before I start on my next one

[Anonymous No.14675787]

>>14675752
Genius!

[Anonymous No.14675803]

>>14674826
Wow!

[Anonymous No.14675813]

>>14675044
Best in thread!

[Anonymous No.14675818]

>>14674848
This is definitely the best post in the thread

[Anonymous No.14675825]

>>14674875
Woah, easily the best thing I've ever read in a critique thread

[Anonymous No.14675828]

>>14675818
>>14675813
>>14675803
>>14675787
>>14675825

[Anonymous No.14675844]

Anyone smart here can critique my work? Only reply if you read Joyce and Beckett

[Anonymous No.14675852]

>>14675825
>>14675818
>>14675813
>>14675803
>>14675787
Can’t believe all of /lit/‘s best writers came out for this one thread

[Anonymous No.14675858]

>>14675844
Fine, post it. I will take a look.

[Anonymous No.14675881]

>>14674826
This is the end of the original DOOM game. Good post.

[Anonymous No.14675889]

>>14675852
Time to compile a new chart

[Anonymous No.14675911]

>>14675858
"This morning," says I, "I was watching 'Nightly News' on TV. There was this newscaster who said, 'And now we bring you good news from Boston.' " 'Good news?' I said. 'And now we bring you bad news from Boston.' " 'Oh,' said the newscaster. 'In case you missed it, here it is,' says he. 'An announcement from the director of the American Civil Liberties Union in Boston that the organization is seeking an emergency temporary restraining order against the city of Boston. The ACLU says it is collecting all the personal, financial and criminal records of every person in the City of Boston that have been subjected to any search or seizure or arrest under any of the city's secret federal counterterrorism program. That includes people arrested, frisked or arrested for no reasonable suspicion that they are doing anything wrong, or for doing what the government had commanded, but through that injustice and up through that becoming-to-outlawly-being, it is the ACLU itself that was created. This is the one decision in the history of American history that, in the long run, may become as significant for civil liberties in the 21st century as did the abolition of slavery in the 19th. It is very possible the ACLU is the single greatest story ever written about the shackles of legal commitment.
[only a small excerpt]

[Anonymous No.14675932]

>>14675911
>may become as significant for civil liberties in the 21st century as did the abolition of slavery in the 19th.
You wanna know how I know you’re white

[Anonymous No.14675941]

>>14675911
Never read something so extremely flat and simplistic yet thoroughly confusing
Like these are all valid sentences but there’s just nothing “beneath” it at all, it’s so uncanny to read
What the fuck did you do, why did you write this? Are you a genius or a complete p-zombie nothing-head?

[Anonymous No.14675960]

>>14675911
This is by far the most intelligent excerpt I have seen posted in a critique thread. Finally a true descendent of Beckett and Joyce with his own voice vibrating via his blackgrey yellowblack locust swarm of text—its web of insect legs flick flickering new connections never known to anyone on this dirt earth.

Post some more.

[Anonymous No.14676010]

>>14675960
[much later excerpt]
Fimly Polidoro, famed for his astute use of the bourgeois legal system to carry his own backhanded message about the city's corruption and greed, has fallen through the net, into a loft where he finds a cafe studded with European trinkets, and a saloon and dancing hall, where is an experienced gentleman of undoubted dignity, since his associates are surprisingly reserved and well-bred.

Fimly was easily persuaded to join the picnic, though he had only read the one of Massachusetts, and the space was superbly set for pleasant conversation. The gentleman, now leaning on his sidearm with a red and gold bowler hat, iced his glass of Shiraz for Polidoro, the Negro's wife of whom he'd spoken before.

"Fimly!" shouted Mrs. Polidoro. "I pray God to give you well! Go on, Ma'am, and drink."

"The first shot!" protested the wife.

Fimly drank.

Polidoro held his glass.

"Where have you come from?"

"A fart," replied Polidoro

"Well, well, what is it?"

"Takkool, takkool!"

"A fart!" said Mrs. Polidoro.

"Takkool!"

"I think so. Well, well, I wonder if it is any good, Mrs. Polidoro."

"A fart! A fart!" came the answer again in a doublet.


Fimly placed down his glass and took up his pipe, setting up his calfboots to consider the ACLU’s proposal. He thought it was worth a try.
"Maybe you're not as stupid as you are told," said the ACLU legal counsel. But Polidoro answered, with quiet defensiveness: "But at least you're human." The ACLU reached out again, but Polidoro drew back, refusing to take the bait.
Polidoro enjoyed drinking "sake" as a result of drinking extremely loud country music and sitting in solitude in the nude. He said he had enjoyed the role of underdog, though it was as an underdog that he led an insurgency, which he intended to maintain throughout the procedure.

[Anonymous No.14676012]

>>14675941
>are you a genius
lol

[Anonymous No.14676030]

>>14675911
>>14676010
I’m literally crying laughing while reading this, I feel like I’m going insane

[Anonymous No.14676040]

Her son was returning.
It was a cold day. It was the type of day where white clouds hang low and mothers make children wear coats that engulf them—just to be safe.
On a flat rooftop that didn’t stand as tall as most of its surrounding buildings, an elderly woman stepped outside with a basket of clothes and a bucket of pegs.
He would need fresh clothes. He hadn’t visited since leaving—different excuses—she was disappointed. Family first, she told him.
Sirens whirred past below.
She pulled out a single jumper, a red-blue-striped-polyester-cotton ensemble with a dark stain on the abdomen. An officer had returned it to her two years ago. There had been an accident, he said. She laughed, there always were accidents with her boy. It was a hideous jumper but she couldn’t throw it away—he was coming home today, so she hung it on the line.
Next was a soaking, faded T-shirt emblazoned with: USA. The South China Morning Post called the Hong Kong people stupid for their faith in America. A place with rampant promiscuity and violence—she should have been firmer. It was her fault in the end. All he needed was a nice local girl. Perhaps that homely girl down the hall. She asked about him once, said she was very sorry what happened and he was very brave.
No crying! He would be home soon.
There were more sirens passing. The road was congested. She jumped at a car backfiring. Terrible time to be coming back home, she hoped he wouldn’t be too long.
The sirens faded. She finished hanging the clothes and went back inside.
Any feedback I receive I’ll give back a bunch—I need to improve. This was rejected by a magazine so I’ve edited it and posted it here.

[Anonymous No.14676066]

>>14676010
I may be trapped inside manywalled time, and genius may be a mystery, but this visit to your mind's architectural output felt like sitting shoeless and crosslegged in the Hagia Sophia.

I felt inside the thrum of your lighteninglike thoughts—through your prose—suddenly I was somewhere else—it was like having a teratoidal heliotrope bloom inside my head—one that sends me after myself to far off places despite the cause of such intense fantasies being a black and twisted linguistic turning tunneling through my visual cortex.

Best post in thread. In any thread.

[Anonymous No.14676074]

>>14676040
This is too good for a critique thread. Are you an actual author?

[Anonymous No.14676095]

>>14676074
I don’t know if sarcasm... If not, then I’ve only published a single short story which was my worst one imo.

[Anonymous No.14676102]

>>14676095
Ha I called it. I know the real deal when I see it.

[Anonymous No.14676400]

kek'll said to shekel how do we heckle merkel since herded through the sharted smarted faster than i farted

[Anonymous No.14677038]

>>14676102
Why would you even think that person is a published writer lmao

[Anonymous No.14677049]

>>14675911
Is this real

[Anonymous No.14677050]

>>14677049
No it’s fake

[Anonymous No.14677953]

Ayo bumping this negroid

[Anonymous No.14678071]

>>14675911
I like it. The others are brainlets.
>>14676010
This is too overly-styled though. Exercise some more restraint. You don't need to lay it on thickly all the time.
>>14676066
I once shoved my foot up a woman's vagina while walking in the hagia sophia because she was sitting cross-legged and I was staring at the gold ceiling.

[Anonymous No.14678273]

Just shat this out. Barely any editing, because ADHD. What do you think about the prose?
I'll give a free (you) to anyone who guesses what book I'm completely ripping off the style from.

[Anonymous No.14678288]

>>14678273
(you) should have crit others

[Anonymous No.14678294]

>>14678288
>>14678071 is me you dongle
I think other anons have said what I would have said for the other works in this thread

[Anonymous No.14678298]

>>14674771
Crit this one book I had started when I was a freshman in highschool.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1D9sF4wtVQxiNcQ0LtbtuGB2oHobwqmfsw3PaQdI5gTc/edit?usp=sharing

[Anonymous No.14678350]

>>14678294
Didn’t crit mine :(

[Anonymous No.14678437]

>>14678350
That means I don't think I have anything relevant to say. I could try and force some criticism, I just don't think it would be valuable to you. What is it?

[Anonymous No.14678634]

>>14676040
:((((( ok I’ll crit first
>>14674826
I wasn’t a fan. It felt quite contrived and also overly written.
>>14674848
I’m not sure if I enjoyed it or not but in general it seems well written
>>14674875
This seems like high school writing
>>14675911
Pretty nice, anon. I don’t think you’ve gone far enough though. I wanted you to play with words more.
>>14676010
This is like Finnegans Wake to your previous piece’s Ulysses.
>>14676040
Me. Pls crit. I need to know if I’m even a half ok writer.

[Anonymous No.14678638]

>>14678437
Didn’t post ;)

[Anonymous No.14678644]

>>14678638

[Anonymous No.14678714]

>>14678644
nice projection fag

[Anonymous No.14678744]

>>14678714
I'm not projecting. I am well aware of my attraction to big, thick cock, and that is precisely why my gaydar is so honed (that I may better hunt for cock). And let me tell you, anon, my gaydar is currently off the charts. You must be a homo of tremendous proportions. I take my hat off to you, King Homo.

[Anonymous No.14678769]

>>14678744
aight bet, now get on your knees and pray to your king, mouth wide open

[Anonymous No.14679573]

>>14675911
>>14676010
I have no respond but to simply kneel before this

[Anonymous No.14680519]

BUMP

[Anonymous No.14680848]

>>14678273
I like it. My only criticism are some minor grammatical errors, like periods to end dialogue sentences being placed outside of quotes. For example,
>It is".
Should be
"It Is."

You do this repeatedly throughout the whole thing and it's pretty well written besides that one thing. It's a really bad habit you should work on fixing so you don't have to do as much editing later on.

One more thing. At the very end, the dialogue that begins "Is this really the thing from the mountain pass?" That string of dialogue ends with the huntsman taking an action to interrupt the wine seller. I think it would flow better if the huntsman's action was moved down to the next line where the huntsman actually speaks. That current line doesn't have any indication of the wine seller speaking, you just have to infer it by reading the flow of the conversation, which is perfectly fine by the way, but it can be confusing when his potentially contextless dialogue is mixed up with actions from an entirely different character. I would edit that bit to read like this:

>"...I can ask my wife to fetch the doctor—"
>The huntsman interrupted his questions by holding up a hand and said, "Do not trouble yourself so much on my account..."

This version shows a much clearer break between the two characters and their dialogue and actions. Just keep working on it and I think you might be onto something good.

[Anonymous No.14681155]

>>14680848
best critique i have ever seen!

[Anonymous No.14681162]

>>14678273
Woah. This is head and shoulders above anything else in the thread.

[Anonymous No.14681173]

>>14680848
It was a deliberate decision, actually. I already knew that putting full stops after quotation marks was a UK thing in academic stuff (Professor OP said he "would love to suck cock".), but it just looked weird when I did the same thing for dialogue. I've looked through some books written and published by fellow Bongs and none of them have done it though, so maybe I'll just put full stops inside quotations even if it's committing the cardinal sin of Burgerifying myself.
Thanks for catching the unclear dialogue. That's the kinda thing which is hard to see for yourself (or at least, I find it hard). What did you like about it, if you don't mind my asking?
>>14681162
Restrain your autism or suffer the consequences...I'm tracing your location as we speak.

[Anonymous No.14681187]

>>14681173
Wow interesting. Post more of your writing. We don't often see stuff like this.

[Anonymous No.14681192]

>>14681187
RESTRAIN

[Anonymous No.14681243]

>>14681173
Maybve I'm just an uncultured burgerclap but I've never heard of the dialogue thing you're talking about. As far as I'm aware, if you're actually trying to get published or get a mainstream following you'll want to write dialogue in the generally accepted format. But you do you I guess, especially if you're just writing for fun.

As for what I liked, mostly just the story itself. It's pretty easy to picture everything that's happening and the two characters are also easy to visualize. The wine seller feels like a jittery and anxious busybody mess while the huntsman easily comes off as a rugged and laid back kind of guy who just gets shit done. And I have no idea what a "shadow" is from lack of context, but it was really easy to visualize the huntsman lugging around this monstrous severed head and the wine seller being in awe of it. I'm kind of just reiterating what you already wrote I guess. My point is that it just flows nicely overall and gets the point across and doesn't use a lot of unnecessary big artsy words to do so. It's really plain and gives you a very straightforward idea of what's going on and is easy to digest but still interesting enough that I would want to pick this up and read more.

[Anonymous No.14681247]

>>14681243
Another good critique. It's actualy better than what you're reviewing. Can you rewrite his excerpt for us? Like a remix or something?

[Anonymous No.14681300]

>>14681247
That sounds really bizarre. I don't want to butcher someone else's work, unless the original guy really wants me to to have a crack at it.

[Anonymous No.14681338]

>>14674771
what is this, like an alternative cover for against the day?

[Anonymous No.14681351]

>>14681243
I've ransacked more books, including some really quite old ones, and not a single one of them have done what I did so I'm just gonna put the full stops in the quotation marks.
That's reassuring to hear. My writing was overwrought af, so I'm glad I've managed to evolve into something easily understandable.
>>14681300
Fuck it, it sounds interesting to me. Let something worthy be born from this autism, if you wanna do it.

[Anonymous No.14681352]

Fragments of Belsen

All naked, all so thin that their yellow skin glistened like stretched rubber on their bones. Some of the poor, starved creatures whose bodies were there looked so utterly unreal and inhuman that I could have imagined that they had never really lived at all
- Richard Dimbleby


And someday I'll retrun,
unfinished and mannequin-like,
the cold prick of the rushes guiding
like skeletal fingers of the dead

I am the black cut outs of raw universe
that dusk promises you are mountains
and I am not I -


A single silver tear in the night sky
spilling over the starved ribcage
of forgotten potato drills,
like air out of nothing being buried alive

2 equals 10,000-
I try your door both times.
Wake to a morning,
Land: an answer to the question The absence of water/ yesterday died
movement from air to surface- asking
both a cage.

Food-block in the yard,
picnic on the hill of open mouths,
150 last words suspended
like a chandelier of shattered cloud.

My face is food,
an apple peeled to the core.
My past is an ocean
that's trying to forget the word annihilation

See me tomorrow
in harsh shadows, in daggered silence.
My life became black and white,
my death ensured it
The heart is not a braver mouth
but its own stomach of empty admissions,
chasing and chewing each other's tails
without sympathy


upstairs window,
the crow on the wool flecked wire,
a cawing so distant that it could be salvation:
extent! extent!
wstawac!
Fág!

[Anonymous No.14681366]

>>14681352
This is deeper than its surface. Possibly the best critique thread poem I've ever seen.

[Anonymous No.14681367]

Fragments of Belsen

All naked, all so thin that their yellow skin glistened like stretched rubber on their bones. Some of the poor, starved creatures whose bodies were there looked so utterly unreal and inhuman that I could have imagined that they had never really lived at all
- Richard Dimbleby


And someday I'll retrun,
unfinished and mannequin-like,
the cold prick of the rushes guiding
like skeletal fingers of the dead

I am the black cut outs of raw universe
that dusk promises you are mountains
and I am not I -


A single silver tear in the night sky
spilling over the starved ribcage
of forgotten potato drills,
like air out of nothing being buried alive

2 equals 10,000-
I try your door both times.
Wake to a morning, an answer to the question yesterday died
asking

Food-block in the yard,
picnic on the hill of open mouths,
150 last words suspended
like a chandelier of shattered cloud.

My face is food,
an apple peeled to the core.
My past is an ocean
that's trying to forget the word annihilation

See me tomorrow
in harsh shadows, in daggered silence.
My life became black and white,
my death ensured it
The heart is not a braver mouth
but its own stomach of empty admissions,
chasing and chewing each other's tails
without sympathy


upstairs window,
the crow on the wool flecked wire,
a cawing so distant that it could be salvation:
extent! extent!
wstawac!
Fág!

[Anonymous No.14681452]

I suck at critiques but I'll do my best. I also don't read poetry.
>>14676040
>It was the type of day where white clouds hang low and mothers make children wear coats that engulf them—just to be safe.
I like your piece a lot, but this line feels off for some reason, but you effectively set up the characters and story. Also, this is a nitpick, but I think you can add just a touch of detail to the USA detail. Like, it was 'emblazoned in bold white letters', or something like that.
>>14678273
Put periods before quotation Mark's. Other than that, fine. I'd change 'upon seeing' to 'when he saw'. Upon seeing feels a bit more grand for the scenario.
>>14675911
Genuinely don't know what to make of this.

[Anonymous No.14681459]

>>14681452
Here's the next section, in case anyone was curious. That probably breaks the rules.

[Anonymous No.14681463]

>>14681452
>I also don't read poetry.
the chad of chads

[Anonymous No.14681483]

>>14681452
I want to puke and shit explosive farts at the same time

may/mat not be as a result of reading your YA

[Anonymous No.14681586]

>>14681351
>>14681247
Here it is lads.

[Anonymous No.14681614]

>>14681586
you should capitalize the first three letters of 'cumbersome'

you know, just as a signature style.

[Anonymous No.14681622]

>>14681614
>t.

[Anonymous No.14681628]

Our yearning star of self-knowledge has waned,
Constricted by the ivory hills & gilded apple leaves.
But the heart does not need knowledge, just an evening chime,
A family’s wistful pyre, or a beetle’s muttering, to howl beauty.
So we trudge spellbound by its music, sightless & harmonious
With coifs of eglantine—
Our souls like the reflections of a somber trompe l’œil,
Should we transcend our mirror, or intercept its noise?

[Anonymous No.14681652]

how does a child, nearly
a smiling plum, quick to feign
some bullseye wisdom, last to mark their blemishes—
get from knots of smoke, mothers incubated
in sunless pits, expectations of grief & barking ghosts,
to the muted classroom walls.

how does a child, weighted
like a barge w/ hissing scabs,
sing so full of milk toast & fairy whiskers.

[Anonymous No.14681658]

I flashed my scimitar’s lip
Against a winery of stars
To split their private dream ajar
And lap the hexing drip.

[Anonymous No.14682538]

>>14681658
not bad

[Anonymous No.14682576]

>>14681628
>>14681652
>>14681658
You tripping?

[Anonymous No.14682611]

HERE HE LIES,
Despite riches for which he had fought,
He still forgot that he dies.
THERE HE LIES,
For when before him he had seen naught,
He tied that knot with no cries.
HERE IT LIES,
Remembered not.

[Anonymous No.14683239]

>>14682611
Second/fifth lines should be more concise, but otherwise that's pretty nifty

>>14681628
>Line 1
I'd take out "of self knowledge," and let that quality of the yearning star be implied by the rest of the poem, because it fairly well is.
>Line 4
You don't need "wistful"

[Anonymous No.14683535]

>>14681586
Watch out niggas I'm about to unleash a bunch of writing advice you've all already read before:

Adjectives and adverbs take away from the force of your prose. Finding stronger verbs and nouns is more effective. For example, there is absolutely no need to describe the hunter's grip as "iron". Simply calling it a grip to begin with evokes a strong, vice-like hold, and the fact he "punctures" the rotting flesh very nicely reinforces this. And don't tell me that the huntsman says something "bluntly". Just make sure what he says is blunt. When you read through a jammed-up collection of adjectives and adverbs it only gets in the way of the impact these words bring. Worse, adjectives/adverbs can be crutches, preventing you from creating genuinely impactful prose.
That's not to say you should never use adjectives and adverbs. They do exist for a reason. For example, there's nothing wrong with "grotesque prize". But they are tools you should use sparingly. Restraining yourself brings out greater force.

Show, don't tell. Or: trust your readers to get what you're trying to convey. The most egregious example: you don't need to tell me that the huntsman cares more for getting drunk than drinking the best wine. He literally said he just wants to drink soon, and not to bother with the best wine. But this extends to little things, too. You don't need to tell me the head is severed. If you say he's holding "the shadow's head", it's pretty clear that it's not attached to any body. Again, telling me these things weakens the impact of your writing, and restraint will bring back the force to your prose.
I'm not saying you should go full iceberg theory, because that's for faggots. But have a little more faith in your reader. If you characterise your characters properly, they WILL understand the nuances you're trying to show.
>>14681658
I like it, but I'm not sure if that's just because I've got a thing for wine and stars in poems.
I must admit I'm too brainlet to figure out what the fuck a winery of stars is supposed to be.

[Anonymous No.14683548]

The lonely person was in a state of abject psychical agony. This agony was a new feeling and, although he had been alone his whole life, he had never felt it before. It came rushing in all at once, one night, like an epiphany. He returned to his apartment, turned on a light, and in that new illumination saw a ragged and destitute room. He should have fell to his knees and began weeping given the intensity of the feeling, but he instead felt confused. He thought for a long time, trying to understand this new and confusing emotion. But as time went on his logic grew weary and yielded to emotion. He could think no more. He cried until he felt sleepy, then went to bed.
When he awoke he felt it was as if an understanding of his situation was beamed into his head overnight. He now had a name for this new emotion.
"Yes, I am alone," he thought to himself. "But what am I to do?" He rubbed his eyes which were still damp with tears. "It's Sunday, and I have the whole day to myself," he thought without catching the subtle, unconscious self-flagellation. "I'll figure this all out."
His resilience in the face of such creeping agony was quite impressive. Perhaps he still didn't fully understand his situation, or state of mind.

[Anonymous No.14683577]

>>14683535
>>14676040
now do me :)

[Anonymous No.14683586]

>>14683577
Not really my thing, sorry. It's just a bit sentimental. Technically it's competent, even if it doesn't step out of any comfort zone, but the actual story is a bit too obviously heartstring-tuggish. I don't think my criticism would be useful.
I'll say that you weave the separate strands together well. It flows from one thought to the next.

[Anonymous No.14683622]

>>14683586
no problem! Thanks for the crit you gave, i can work on hiding sentiment

[Anonymous No.14683635]

>>14683622
I'm not sure you can. As it is, the entire story is built on sentimentality. You'd have to reshape the story to delve deeper into the complexities of having a heroically martyred son you don't want to recognise is dead.

[Anonymous No.14683707]

>>14681367

Your poetic voice is coming together nicely, but there are several missteps. Lines like “black cut outs of raw universe” and “skeletal fingers of the dead” feel clunky in execution. A lot of your images are interesting, though at times your subject feels more haughty than your language can justify, I figure there’s been considerable effort nonetheless and that’s good.

>>14682611

The style is archaic and derivative. I think you should read from more contemporary times if you don’t already, it’ll help you to think more freshly about your work. Aside from that the diction is uninteresting, there are no striking images, and the subject is tired as the style. I’m sure you can do better anon, just gotta push yourself.

>>14683239

You have a decent sense of style and diction despite the anachronistic language. Just like my previous reply, I encourage you to try and branch out into the modern day, rather than rehash ancient tropes without ingenuity. It’s hard to critique for me because I feel like I’m reading a fabricated voice rather than your own. Just put your skills to the current times.

>>14682576

I was honestly just high and trying to get a good amount of critique / bump the thread.

[Anonymous No.14683812]

>>14683707
>I feel like I’m reading a fabricated voice rather than your own
The key problem with every single work here, I think. Every single one of you is aping some author who's captured your starry, naive eyes. Most are excitedly copying Joyce, but there's other authors too. I openly recognise that I'm one of the worst offenders.
I reckon it's inherent to the sort of person who'd need to post on /lit/ crit threads.

[Anonymous No.14683817]

>>14683812
do you mean everyone in the thread or all tagged in >>14683707 because i'd be curious knowing which one mine is copying >>14676040

[Anonymous No.14683828]

>>14683817
Every piece of short fiction I've read in middlebrow magazines. It's a very modern style.
I'd like to re-emphasise that it is very competent.

[Anonymous No.14683915]

>>14683812

Well, to varying degrees for sure. It's natural to build voice by piecing together fragments of what you enjoy from others, but it's only justified inasmuch as a sincere brand is formed rather than a stale copy.

[Anonymous No.14683963]

>>14683915
I think most people are in the first stages, and some in the second. None are further than that, though. I suspect anyone who's progressed further has better places to get critique than a /lit/ thread.

[Anonymous No.14683976]

>>14683963

Yeah that's probably true. The best poets I know usually just submit to magazines or run IG accounts, etc.

[Anonymous No.14684651]

>>14674826
I like it

[Anonymous No.14684779]

>>14675044
Fantastic balance between image and abstraction. Crisp and visual yet discursive at the same time. Very good.

1/2

[Anonymous No.14684783]

>>14684779

2/2

[Anonymous No.14685375]

>>14674848
Would still really appreciate any last thoughts on this

[Anonymous No.14685407]

>>14685375
It oscillates wildly between legitimately good writing, and profound retardation that absolutely reeks of autism.

Try to be more considerate with your phrasing and less pretentious.

[Anonymous No.14685485]

>>14683535
Thanks anon, this is pretty helpful advice. Not trying to make excuses but I think I might have gotten carried away some just trying to make it sound different from the original guy's version. Even so I'll have to reread some of the stuff I'm working on with your advice in mind and see what needless fluff I can trim off the edges. I generally agree with you and don't like pointless descriptions in prose so I'm glad you pointed out that I'm doing it myself.

[Anonymous No.14685637]

>>14674771
Larry Bird


I'm gon' ball on these hoes, Larry Bird
Talkin' shit, you get hit, you out of words
I ain't kickin' it, I kick you to the curb
I get drunk, then I talk with a slur
Last night was a blur
Almost crashed, had to skrt
I ain't R Kelly, but bitch I'ma flirt
Then I get in her guts, Dr. Miami, surgeon
Ray J with it, I'll hit a bitch first

That bitch wanna fuck me, where?
In the front seat
Gun in my Givenchys, I gotta stay comfy
I know they gon' hate me, yeah
They gon' love me
Two thousand on a sweater, bitch you know that you can't touch me

Please anons, my professor said it was 'self-indulgent.'

[Anonymous No.14685851]

>>14683707
>It’s hard to critique for me because I feel like I’m reading a fabricated voice rather than your own. Just put your skills to the current times.

Sometimes style bends to subject. Also I'm curious to see which author in your opinion has captured my starry, naive eyes.

[Anonymous No.14685909]

>>14685637
It had too much flow for you to have actually written it, I didn't know who Juice was until a minute ago. But yeah, it's a brag track, of course it's self-indulgent.

[Anonymous No.14685997]

>>14685407
Thanks, my friend. I appreciate the response
If you don’t mind, could you explicitly point out some sentences that you think are one or the other (other than the first half of paragraph 1, I already know most of that needs to be changed)? Writing like that takes a long time and by the time I’m finished I’ve often lost most of my ability to critique it as if it were written by someone else

[Anonymous No.14686017]

Goku's eyes narrowed, his muscles pulsed with purpose; this bus was going to Namek. The sides of the bus gave way under Goku's impossible jouissance as his seizing, turgid body fucked its way to the center console. The driver protested this turn of events by way of acute hematemesis, but Goku was having none of it. "No", he said, "I'm Goku".

[Anonymous No.14686086]

>>14685909
what do you think of Juice's rhyme and flow, anon? how good would you judge it as poetry?

[Anonymous No.14686103]

>>14686086
Very simple rhyming and diction, with shallow subject matter. It flows well, though.

[Anonymous No.14686119]

>>14686103
I thought similar, but it just flows so well and I can't understand why.

[Anonymous No.14686406]

>>14686103
do you have any recs for poets with flow similar to this or kinda like Wilde's poetry? im also really interested if there are any books on analysis of this. Thanks, anon.

[Anonymous No.14687386]

If a story began this way, what would be your initial impression?
More general thoughts appreciated too

[Anonymous No.14687471]

If this was the beginning of a story, what would your initial impressions be?
More general thoughts welcome too

[Anonymous No.14687477]

>>14687471
Woah. This is head and shoulders above anything else in the thread.

[Anonymous No.14687488]

Pay close attention to this, you ever saw that movie Knights of the round table, well that's who my colleagues and I are, the creme of big business and the bane of multi-level marketing is what some might call us haha the daddy, me, owns the money schemes I'm the reincarnation of Ponzi haha well I laugh sometimes but back to business well slaves keep asking me how can they accomplish their big financial dreams of their inferiour race well let me give you a concrete example today I interviewed this kiddo he said he wants to join the financial brigade of the strong and that he's raised in something that's called vagabond lifestyle as in he is oiled with every possible oil I said ok boss let's see what you're made of so I started speaking English to him but that dirty cockney stuff, you know the jackal language like I studied in the park of london school of economics I mean the kind of English you don't read in your tickets to the customer support of a retail company cause your huawei phone came with a broken glass you understand the difference between us, of class, refinement and good education and I told the guy sell me this bottle of water and he started selling me these cheap lines very low energy as in you thirsty? this is good water, domestic, a bit of a sweet taste to it he didn't have that thermonuclear financial strength in his voice but I felt him he was a good guy and worked for a sell here and there so I told him a transactional vibe for free: I took his bottle of water and told him look here, you see this righteous piece of ass on my left and he said yes and I said look better at her, analyse her from head to toe and see if she is the real deal or not and his mouth was now fully open and he started salivating and I think I even slapped him to wake him up can't remember oh well I tell him "is your mouth dry, wouldn't you like to drink some water as badly as Obama wants to drop a drone?" and he says "yes sir I'm really thirsty" and I tell him "10 euro and I'll give youa sip of water" and he says "anything for some water it's so hot in here" he didn't even realise what happened and none of you slaves would either pay attention first you got to create demand and then come with the sell but I don't expect any of this to stick to lower castes they have other preoccupations like sentiments but they're poor even then they think in their work breaks who

[Anonymous No.14687495]

>>14687488
they might hook up on tinder or fridays in the club stuff like this for animals in heat I understand well financial tanks didn't get rich thinking of sex on the short run no so going back here's the deal the other financial knights at the table were laughing like mad and told me bravo arthur we forgot who's the king of NLP and that he's here with us and I told him wait up we'll make this guy a monetary teuton but only if he's capable now let's show him our etoro stocks and how they grow but none of the proles would understand it goes in one ear and out the other but that's the way of the deal and plebs don't risk they skip ads with steve & dave on youtube so they can watch clips on how to manage their 30 years loan to buy a barn in a village and a silly skoda or what other crap they buy anyway the financial armada is on the rise and unashamed understand this financial crusade the impertinent force of economy anyway my pockets are never empty
here's my final entry hello from the living financial tank to whoever is reading this I'm high up in the world like the rank of big business and what am I doing now baby? better than anyone else I'm waiting to meet up with some japanese investors to build some big buildings like in bladerunner so that the plebs have where to come home to their rent thinking about a buying a barn well let me give you another saying "money means debt" you know who said this? Kyosaki a big guy but you wouldn't

[Anonymous No.14687500]

>>14687477
Damn, I don't agree but if you're being genuine, I really appreciate that

[Anonymous No.14687509]

>>14687500
He's not being genuine, he's spamming everything with stuff like this

[Anonymous No.14687510]

What does it say?

[Anonymous No.14687514]

[Anonymous No.14687524]

>>14687509
Ah, sweet

[Anonymous No.14687630]

>>14687514
Impressive. Easily the best in this thread.

[Anonymous No.14687679]

>>14687471
Initial impressions: I'm not reading shit that thinks swathed is a good first word choice

After 3-4 rereadings: It's actually good, but it absolutely sucks to read fresh. A little restraint in some of your stranger word choices would go a long way. Shattered and splayed in the roiling is indefensible.

[Anonymous No.14687803]

>>14687679
Thanks for taking the time to read it man
I see exactly what you mean and am going to keep working on that. I'm a sucker for when an author makes me think of something in a new light by using a word or phrase I wouldn't have expected and I try to do the same when I write, but I think of things very visually and often get carried away with trying to choose the word whose subtle associations most closely match the visual feature I'm trying to get across. I end up taking very roundabout mental paths that arrive at words that can just seem stilted or pretentious to the reader if the reasons I had in mind don't come through clearly enough

[Anonymous No.14688079]

By far the best thing in the thread

[Anonymous No.14688136]

Oh I’ll never marry
No, I’ll never wed
Nobody wants to kiss you when you’re dead
Nobody wants to
Lie in bed with you
When your flesh is rotting,

[Anonymous No.14688240]

>>14687630
Imagine being this much of a fag that you have to troll people who genuinely want advice to improve hahahah life must suck bro, I hope that girl finally looks at you and doesn’t get boned by Tyrone again

[Anonymous No.14688259]

>>14688240
Amazing, easily the best thing in this thread

[Anonymous No.14688329]

>>14678744
Fucking gold, you should keep going with this.
Wait, what do you mean this wasn't one of the works to critique?

[Anonymous No.14688380]

Alone I sit upon her window sill,
Breathing in her rose perfume.
Her wilted fingers clutch my trouser leg.
Mine are trembling on the trigger.

[Anonymous No.14688385]

>>14688259

Lol

[Anonymous No.14688446]

>>14686406
What, you think I have any particular knowledge on this subject or read poetry habitually? Nah dude.

[Anonymous No.14688499]

>>14678273
very very good my man. I am too frightened of you people to post my novel

[Anonymous No.14688584]

>>14688499
If you post yours I'll post mine, anon-kun :3

[Anonymous No.14688974]

https://pastebin.com/JrksDU25

Wrote this in 8th grade as an alternate ending to The Giver

[Anonymous No.14689168]

>>14675911
This is huh... wow

[Anonymous No.14689293]

I couldn’t sleep last night so I’m up early again and walking to my bus stop. It’d been like this for the past week or so. I guess it’s part of my daily routine now which I don’t really mind. I check my watch. It’s six. I passed that apple tree at the same time yesterday.
I know this sidewalk like an old friend. Which isn’t surprising because I’ve been walking this same stretch for all my life really. Backward and forward, I get both angles. I’ve seen cracks grow and stains fade. I’ve changed with it.
It’s overcast again. Been like that for the past week or so too. People don’t like when it’s overcast but I think it’s kinda nice. You feel wrapped by clouds, what’s not to like about that?
I slowly rest my butt onto the bench at the bus station. I’ll be here for an hour. That’s the soonest bus. The plastic paneling around me is greyed by constant smoke. Mostly from cigarettes but I assume also fumes from the bus. I light up my own cigarette. Play my own part in this process if you will.
I guess this whole past week I’ve been using this hour to think. And know I’m thinking about thinking. It’s an official thing now. This specific spot and time. It’s my spot. Not that I think super deeply or anything. Thoughts waft in and leave the same way. I just watch em float off without trying to catch them back. Such is life. I take a draw from my cigarette.
I exhale then watch where the smoke goes till I can’t make it out. More time has passed than it feels. I’m staring straight across the road and to the left in my periphery is a mass of coats coming towards me. I glance over and can tell it’s a woman probably. She sits on the other side of the bench, the left side. Well I can’t think anymore. I feign interest in a poster ad behind her to catch a look. But she’s turned away. The grimey layered jackets would suggest a homeless person but she’s got long, healthy hair down her back. This is weird.

[Anonymous No.14689331]

I couldn’t sleep last night so I’m up early again and walking to my bus stop. It’d been like this for the past week or so. I guess it’s part of my daily routine now which I don’t really mind. I check my watch. It’s six. I passed that apple tree at the same time yesterday.
I know this sidewalk like an old friend. Which isn’t surprising because I’ve been walking this same stretch for all my life really. Backward and forward, I get both angles. I’ve seen cracks grow and stains fade. I’ve changed with it.
It’s overcast again. Been like that for the past week or so too. People don’t like when it’s overcast but I think it’s kinda nice. You feel wrapped by clouds, what’s not to like about that?
I slowly rest my butt onto the bench at the bus station. I’ll be here for an hour. That’s the soonest bus. The plastic paneling around me is greyed by constant smoke. Mostly from cigarettes but I assume also fumes from the bus. I light up my own cigarette. Play my own part in this process if you will.
I guess this whole past week I’ve been using this hour to think. And now I’m thinking about thinking. It’s an official thing now. This specific spot and time. It’s my spot. Not that I think super deeply or anything. Thoughts waft in and leave the same way. I just watch em float off without trying to catch them back. Such is life. I take a draw from my cigarette.
I exhale then watch where the smoke goes till I can’t make it out. More time has passed than it feels. I’m staring straight across the road and to the left in my periphery is a mass of coats coming towards me. I glance over and can tell it’s a woman probably. She sits on the other side of the bench, the left side. Well I can’t think anymore. I feign interest in a poster ad behind her to catch a look. But she’s turned away. The grimey layered jackets would suggest a homeless person but she’s got long, healthy hair down her back. This is weird.

[Anonymous No.14689356]

>>14689331
Greatest thing I have ever read

[Anonymous No.14689371]

>>14689356
I was half bored writing it so that can’t be true

[Anonymous No.14689393]

>>14689331
I'd likely cut the entirety of establishing that the character has a regular routine. It's just not interesting and doesn't pass for much of a character trait. "Mass of coats" plural? Weird description of seeing a singular person in your peripheral vision. Consider changing that to something that evokes singularity. Overall, not bad, just try to focus on cutting unimportant fluff.

[Anonymous No.14689411]

>>14689393
Thanks, much appreciated

[Anonymous No.14689416]

>>14689356
:( best thing in this thread :( mommy love me :( anons love me :( i need attention :(

[Anonymous No.14689587]

As usual, the cheerful chirrups from small birds drifted through the open windows, their
silhouettes briefly appearing on mulberry silk curtains. The studio was crammed with
dozens of saffron crocus and orchids and lavender, and when the spring breeze wafted in,
the thick scents filled the room exuberantly; sweet aromas a delicate, lingering perfume. A
whistling kettle steamed on a glass pane, cold streaks of condensation appeared as if rain
had shown its head for the first time in weeks.
Dying moonlight shone upon the edge of a velvet sofa, and onto the boots of Johan King, his
cigarette smoke adding to the obscurity that was growing inside; he wore an unbuttoned
shirt which revealed a mustard yellow stained vest, thick splotches of paint and a long falling
necklace that fell past his chest, and yet the remainder of his visage was pristine. The butts
were a rising mountain, smoked all the way down to the very end despite burnt finger tips
and lips received.
Johan stirred from his seat. He held an unlit stick in his mouth, and while his eyes clambered
over the only other person in the room, he set amber flames upon it. As if in another place,
he sat unperturbed by the falling ash, the unclipped stems, the dishevelled room, and the
monotonous whistling that filled this small world. Another day was passing as usual.
Rose fingers crept over the horizon. The Egyptian satin sheets were a brilliant saffron, the
eye of the sun bringing with it a warmth that had yet to reach inside. The rising dawn was
accompanied by a growing roar like the notes of the harrowing Octobass in a room that held
its breath, and so the reveille had begun throughout the city.
In the centre of the room, draped over a divan in saffron robes was the extraordinary Sacha
Gautier whose talents were far from recognised but his family wealth was of an abundance;
beside him were the many, many paintings of the man displaying a quiet excitement
through a gracious, yet small, smile. As Sacha stirred between the realms of dreams and not,
Johan studied the young man through the opaqueness; brown locks were plastered across
the young man’s face, unable to grow facial hair he looked like a pubescent teenager, his
long finger tips grasped at the air as he slept.

[Anonymous No.14689597]

THESE ARE BARSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS


See, it was the Lord that made the 5 turn right up
But the 5% saved my ass, how’s that for luck
Rolls Royce ridin’ round, 5’9 climbing out of it now
The 5% smokin’ the real nigga 5’9 (wow)
While the hood is dying around 5 at a time
Was homeless at 15, livin’ on the streets for 5
The 5-0 caught me once, I never stayed inside
And when 5% rolled and bailed me outside
He asked me what I want to do with the life God has given
I tell him it’s not much of a life that I’m livin’
I tell him dreams and hopes are for women and children
And he turn around and asked me how’s that been for business?

[Anonymous No.14689632]

Summer was setting.
For Victoria Fox, that muse brought unbridled joy, as if the pregnant pause between summer and autumn meant that the stars aligned for her; or, as if the world choked in its own growing humidity and was reborn in an instant, indiscernible in its passing, but now better, somehow; or, as if the summer falling away among brown and red leaves (and those little chocolate seeds that her son used to collect every autumn and set about piercing them with a needle and thread until he had made a suitable weapon to compete against other boys at school, then to swing them over and over until one cracked the seed or one’s knuckles) remedies whether to see the warm shades of orange, red, and yellow fade into indigo beside the little house that she had once owned by the beach as another year passed before her.
Yet, for the moment, she settled on a streak of sunlight waltzing with the cherry blossom tree as she enjoyed the last day before the sun began its hibernation, and the bees disappeared for another year, and each critter, en masse, crawled over one another under a patch barely concealed during the colder months; “what a beautiful summer afternoon.”
She laid down, barely shaded, under the white cherry blossom with droplets lining her skin and the occasional insect climbing over her, desperate to fulfil its final journey of the year, and in that moment crystallised the image, like she had been taught when she was very young (for children have the most extraordinary memories and imaginations and can be transported at a mere whim through the ages) and a green grass gust blew the radiance under her skin and she was filled with a heavenly bliss; and with that momentary joy that resides deep inside, that joy that you force down when you grow up because you need to marry the right person, or you need to achieve a set of goals, floated across the sky almost out of nothing, and for a moment the world was gloomy once more, and when white had dissipated to little more than a few streaks running further and further away, the childlike joy that makes you want to jump up and down, had disappeared into a worrisome woman with a high forehead and sandy hair who promptly sat up, frowning slightly as she returned to the world.

MY CRIT:

>>14689597
BARSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
>>14689587
comfy piece but seems like a first draft, where is this going?
>>14689331
i don't like the personable tone
>my bus stop
>my daily routine
we know its not going to be anyone other than the narrators
>>14688380
enjoy, do you have more
>>14688136
i'd add
>no one wants to kiss you when you are fucking dead
to 3rd line. The 4th, 5th, and 6th lines are poor.

[Anonymous No.14689688]

i did performance poetry

loot at me :)))))))))))

I got my first kill today
It was him or me, I swear
It was him or me, I promise
As a soldier we're taught to look at everything like a shadow, a silhouette
Not a mirror image of an equally scared me
I got my first kill today
The man was running
He was running away like I had ran away from the drug dealers as a kid that I still
owed money to on this very day
I shot that man in the back with three bullets
Not a single one missing
I got my first kill today
I stood over his body which lay face down in the dirt
He's just a target, I told myself, a solid silhouette
I was told there should be no regret in the eye of a soldier when you're serving your
country proud
No fear of the silhouette standing over there across the street eyeing you up
because you are serving your country
I got my first kill today
I was taught how to shoot a 9 millimetre pistol into the head of a moving target and
not miss a shot
I was taught how to track these silhouettes like animals and trap them
I was taught to be a hunter and I got my first kill today
But I wasn't taught how to deal with the feeling of knowing that he was a soldier just
like me
Serving for his country just like me
And that soldier had a family just like me
I keep telling myself that it was him or me
But was it really?
I'm still not sure which one of us is the villain in this situation
They send me to a psychologist who holds up ink blots
He tells me to explain what I see
I tell him I see ink when really I see targets
I see silhouettes that may hurt my country, may hurt my family, and may hurt me

I see the man I shot in the back and his family crying at his funeral because I visited
that damn place 2 weeks after his death and he had 3 goddamn kids and very sick
wife
And I see myself in the ink blots
Standing with a gun pointed at a silhouette about to pull the trigger
About to pull the trigger on myself because I can no longer deal with the fact that I
did kill someone and that person had a family and that person wasn't a soldier just
like me but a man, a civilian
Someone who was trying to do some honest work in this corrupt world and I had
taken the most precious thing from his family that I could never repay
Tell me, do all soldiers go to heaven
Do we still have a place among those we have murdered
Because keeping the peace feels like home invasion
Have you ever shot somebody
Seen the brain of a 15 year old silhouette explode out of the back of his head
Watched a silhouette choke on his own blood because he had gone to the store to
purchase some candy and a canned drink from a convenience store and had paid
with his life
Guilty of nothing but being in the wrong place at the wrong time at the wrong side of
a battlefield where everyone has rights until it doesn't suit America
They call me a hero
For shooting that unarmed silhouette and all the others for trying to escape

[Anonymous No.14689693]

>>14689688
Do you know how hard it is to go home to your family and smile a smile that you took
from somebody else?
It is the duty of a soldier to protect everyone in this country except blacks, I mean,
silhouettes
I'll stand back in my boss’s office after I'm fit enough to return back to duty and he'll
say to me
Welcome back to the police academy

[Anonymous No.14689753]

>>14689693
Why the fuck is this dude returning to duty at the academy? Do you think that's what a police department is called?

[Anonymous No.14689802]

>>14689753
its a chilling indictment of our modern world, brava anon >>14689688 >>14689693 simply exquisite piece of racial commentary

[Anonymous No.14690387]

>>146884
I mostly only read philosophy, but I've been reading poetry more recently. I thought lit would be a good place to discuss, but I forgot that lit only reads Guenon(pbuh).

[Anonymous No.14690559]

excerpt from some shit i've been writing for about a month, just wrote this about an hour ago. I know it needs editing

[Anonymous No.14691011]

Bump

[Anonymous No.14691066]

>>14689632
>>14688380
I don't have anymore like that, but I've been kicking this around in my head this morning. It's vastly different from anything else I've done and it's only the first half, but I would appreciate any thoughts:

phenomena et noumena.
ave cubiculum sanguine plena.
ave mater plena sangria.
Cackling, ivory fangs clattering,
Over my shoulder. I show her my clover:
Consubstantial hypostases; est non est.

[Anonymous No.14691075]

>>14691066
*ave cubiculum sanguine plenum

[Anonymous No.14692646]

Bump

[Anonymous No.14693119]

>>14687471
Id be seriously intrigued, to be honest.

[Anonymous No.14693199]

free writing on my couch

Wrapped in a shaggy purple blanket I stare at the office space, examining the newly arranged furniture my mom left. A plastic samurai blade lay atop the desk adjacent to some ratty books. I just finished my green tea, I don’t feel caffeinated, just anticipating ennui. Eventually we’ll come together, fluid like street lights. Until then I’ll be dozing, out from the cold, grating through dandruff.

[Anonymous No.14693216]

How the river bends and reflects trees withstanding deadly winters each year. Resilience and renewal surrounds us and human constructions of beauty mimics nature in the end. I catch myself slipping in puddles of conflict. I catch myself back at the river.

[Anonymous No.14693259]

slam!
the church door flies
open.
swish swish a hundred
heads swirl round.

one man. one gun.
"I'm the king of the court"

bam bam bam
bam bam
bam.

[Anonymous No.14693340]

>>14674771
i ball on these hoes like barry
looking like harry
potter, drippin like water
she call me her father
i think i'll give a daughter

smoke so much my lungs be dead like me
she tell me stop then i ignore her plea
hundred on me im a baller you see
Almhof Schneider reservation, high roller
ski like bode miller, but im taller
aint no manlets here we got dollers, yuh


Please recommend me poets, and analysis/theory books on flow, rhyme and rhythm. I earnestly want to get better, truly. Any help is appreciated, office hours don't cover things like this.

[Anonymous No.14693369]

>>14674771
i ball on these hoes like barry
looking like harry
potter, drippin like water
she call me her father
i think i'll give her my daughter

smoke so much my lungs be dead like me
she tell me stop then i ignore her plea
hundreds on me im a baller you see
Almhof Schneider reservation, ski like bode miller
im a high roller
aint no manlets here we got dollers, yuh

Please recommend me poets, and analysis/theory books on flow, rhyme and rhythm. I earnestly want to get better, truly. Any help is appreciated, office hours don't cover things like this.

[Anonymous No.14694065]

>>14681658
Chiming in to say I recognize this poem from an earlier crit thread. If you're the same dude, I think you've improved it.

[Anonymous No.14694651]

is /crit/ the only equivalent to a "writefag general??

[Anonymous No.14695291]

https://instagram.com/a.n.gautier?igshid=17v1ah0l7v3dg

Is this any good? Sorry, am new

[Anonymous No.14695361]

>>14695291
wow. very good

[Anonymous No.14695808]

A brown lilypad
Rests serenely in its bowl
Splash, another comes

[Anonymous No.14695992]

Rate my poem, anons! I put a lot of heart into it, I- I hope you guys like it :3

[Anonymous No.14696245]

>>14694651
There's one in /tg/ as well.

[Anonymous No.14696255]

I sucked in on sweet lady marlboro, the only true mistress I ever had. I was looking straight down the business end of a double scotch, the cloudy, pisspoor kind you find in the low lit bars of this two bit town. I was turning it all over in my head; Marlone not turning up at the deal, old man Peters nowhere to be seen, McCluskey getting shot by his own gun only three days off seeing his son graduate Ivy and most of all, the girl. But what use was trying to fix any of it when you've got a DA more crooked than a shepherd's garage and the mob have ears on every corner and eyes in every window? I turned my attention back to the drink, a boozehound at the other end of the bar wept about how screwed up everything had gotten for him. You and me both, pal... One block and two hours pass. The morning beckons with three rapts. My office still wrapped in shadow beyond the cone of the unused desk lamp. This was Harley’s lad no doubt, come to collect on phantom debts. His silhouette was framed in the pebbled glass of the door, my name crossing the T to his torso. Why would he knock if he was turning the place, plausible deniability? I hid in a shadowed pocket, still unseen by the dawning blinds, and watched the knob slowly twist, and the grey fingers which proceeded the silhouette, and the Ruger lcp they cradled.

[Anonymous No.14697120]

>>14674771

You smile and wink and shake my hand,
but notice something off:
you stand before an alien man
who’s come from planet Earth.

I speak the tongue
and read the books
and watch the flicks
with joy,
and drink for kicks
with sunken hooks,
the weekends with
the boys.

But ancient essence can’t be fully aped.

Your food, I cannot eat.
Your strength, I cannot match.
Your pride, I cannot feel.

Drab restraint is seen as vice, and
it makes me wonder how my mien would fare
returned to place of birth.

Forget it!
I’ve tried before:
now only fit to live on Mars,
my body cannot take the sudden shift
in gravity.

Yet, inside, we’ll always know
that neath my clear disguise resides
an Earthling.

[Anonymous No.14697148]

>>14695992
This is the worst poem that I read in a long time. A long, long time

[Anonymous No.14697159]

>>14695992
Pithy in its ideas and shallow in its execution.

[Anonymous No.14697168]

>>14693259
You make your inspiration (Nael, age 6) too clear. Try to find your own voice, rather than aping the work of a master none of us can reach.
>>14693199
A bit poncy, but if you keep writing you'll learn to iron that out. I love how you wrapped it up. This
>I just finished my green tea, I don’t feel caffeinated, just anticipating ennui.
Should be more like
>I just finished my green tea. I don't feel caffeinated; I just anticipate ennui.
>>14690559
I like your style, but you go too far with it. I get the whole "he widened his jaw" and "they dipped their foreheads up and down" thing, but a little goes a long way. I think a whole work written like this would be grating to read and also make the reader suspect it of being a gimmick. Even if you don't care about the reader's experience, overusing it takes away all of its power. Make sure that every time you use it you're using it for a reason, even if you can't quite explain what that reason is.
Similarly, be a bit more restrained in your symbolism. You can just say "Wallace was like a rat who'd found the cheese at the end of a maze".
Your dialogue's a bit off. Obviously you're going for an archaic thing, so I'm not talking about that. I just mean it's a bit awkwardly written. Maybe something more like
>I see you are all very well, but as you -- Adam -- seemed contrive early on, you already know the reason I have come here: the appliances of room 4, belonging to me, of course, have once more been stripped of their water-gathering prowess.
This is assuming you meant to use words like "contrive". Also, I'm not sure why her seeing they're all very well has anything to do with her appliances being fucked. Maybe I'm too brainlet to understand, I concede.
Also idk if your punctuation decisions are deliberate or not, but if they're not then you've got a few mistakes with where you place your apostrophes and commas. If it's deliberate then you do you.

>My piece
I wrote it while waiting for tea.
I can't decide whether I should end it with
>The ocean was gone, but his tongue was still dry, and he lay there until he died of thirst.
or
>The ocean was gone, but his tongue was still dry, and he died of thirst.

[Anonymous No.14697180]

>>14695992
I like it. I like it a lot. Will you be my robo-gf?

[Anonymous No.14697222]

>>14697168
>I like your style, but you go too far with it.
Yes, I notice this about my writing; it just feels that when I am typing or jotting things down, it doesn't feel like it's enough, if you catch my drift
>Your dialogue's a bit off
Yep. I've despised writing dialogue since I knew what it even was, however I'm trying to get good at it considering the contents of I want to do with this work as a whole
>Also, I'm not sure why her seeing they're all very well has anything to do with her appliances being fucked.
Yeah, that doesn't really make an sense with the excerpt given, but it is an integral part of the general story, so I felt it must remain prominent among other things in this scene.
>where you place your apostrophes and commas. If it's deliberate then you do you.
Sort of. It's more so I can write a deluge of shit and break it down later using the commas/apostrophes as guides. This doesn't mean they're all given that task, however, so some will remain.

[Anonymous No.14697260]

>>14697222
>it just feels that when I am typing or jotting things down, it doesn't feel like it's enough, if you catch my drift
I completely catch your drift, because I feel the same way. I almost feel anxious the reader isn't gonna get what I want them to get, you know? But next time you read a good book, notice how little effort they put into this stuff. Only a few words are needed to evoke the correct feeling, and then the reader will carry it with them through the passages.
>hate dialogue
Try getting a feel for how people speak in real life. Just try and notice the little mannerisms they have depending on who they're talking to and what position they think they're in. You clearly have an awareness of it, because you play on it with Piper's speech. The main issue is keeping your grammar in order and keeping it from reading awkwardly. "The appliances (plural) have broken", rather than "the appliances has broken". And "you already know my reasoning for being here" is just jarring, and not in the good way. Even awkwardly-worded dialogue shouldn't be awkward to read, if you get me.
I know I told you to notice how people speak in real life, but good dialogue doesn't actually sound like how people talk in real life; it sounds like how people think people talk in real life. How many great films have people talking like they do in livestreams?
>it is an integral part of the general story
That's fine, I was just checking for grammatical purposes. If it was just a generic "how do you do" then it should've been more like "I see you are all very well. Of course, as you -- Adam --" etc.
>Sort of. It's more so I can write a deluge of shit and break it down later using the commas/apostrophes as guides
I don't really understand this but so long as you've got a system you like, you do you
I'm just talking about stuff like "the brother's" or "the Cameron's" when properly they should be "the brothers" and "the Camerons", for reference. There's also a bit too many commas than is properly necessary. [note: you don't need to listen to properness]

[Anonymous No.14697264]

>>14697222
Oh, btw, I like it. You're clearly trying to write your own thing in your own way, even if your influences are obvious. That makes it better than a lot of other stuff in this thread. Keep at it and we're all gonna make it, brah.

[Anonymous No.14697305]

>>14697264
Considering this is my first /crit/ thread, your input means a lot to me. Thanks, man.
>we're all gonna make it, brah.
Indeed.

[Anonymous No.14697391]

>>14674771
This is a sort of fairy tale that I completed the other day.

[Anonymous No.14697873]

Many long years have passed
Since the heroes of old
Were taken to the breaking wheels
And shattered.
The carrion have long since glibly
Picked them bare, leaving their
Skulls to forever grin atop
Their broken bones, contorted as if
In some morbid jester's dance.
This is how we now know them.

Where hawks and falcons once flew free,
Untamed, throughout the highest heights,
With all the world beneath their wings,
Unfettered,
The skies now are silent and empty,
Forever out of reach and fancy.
Those glorious wings are now pinned
To the dissection board, their owners
Gutted and put on high display.

High mountains, cold and sombre,
Unyielding sentinels of the oldest days,
Hollowed out and levelled, for nothing more than
Ease of travel.
Raging, tempestuous seas lie stilled to safety,
Lush, wild forests, tidied and tamed.
They have veined the broadest deserts
With irrigation pipes of steel
And sent their cattle there to pasture.

No beauty in a thornless ros lies,
Nor majesty in a lion caged and toothless.
The Dead Men have filled the world with empty forms,
Flat projection and image without motion,
And man himself they have reduced
To a thin and spectral shadow.

The Dead Men sing no songs of yore,
Nor tell they of the elder days.
Naught but disdain have they for those
Who would risk life and limb
To soar above to highest glories.

For what is glory to a grazing cow?
What is wild magnificence
To the comfortably tame?
What is flight to the flightless
But a mortal insult?

The Dead Men suffer none to live,
Just as the spider traps the fly
And drains it,
Not out of hunger, but out of bitterest envy;
Just as the hyena cruelly cackles as it
Strips the flesh from the fallen lion.

"What is greatness at the cost of ease?
Why should some fly and others not,
And I not?" thus the Dead Men spit and hiss
And call themselves kind.

The flower that grows tall is
Cut to size.
The fence-post that stands too high is
Hammered down.
The coat of many colours is bleached, or failing that,
Burned.

The Dead Men's symphony is monotone,
Their paintings dull and grey,
Their only colour the flecks of red
From those who flew and fell,
Not from flight too close to the sun,
But from tugging from greedy claws below
Into the Dead Men's grinning maws.

[Anonymous No.14697935]

ok i should probably stop making threads about this so how about:
>the argus society/foundation
>the kore society/foundation
>the foveal society/foundation
>the ophanim society/foundation
for a group whose goals involve cataloging interesting phenomena and rewriting the laws of science and magic

[Anonymous No.14697943]

>>14697935
i'm going with 'eyes' as a theme because eyes are associated with all sorts of cool shit relating to knowledge and such

[Anonymous No.14698179]

practice write describing bits of the room

A mantis green coffee mug
steady on its coaster, beside a civil pigeon bust
and a transparent vase. They balance wizardly
like silk pins on an old vinyl, the coffee table curtsies
in apathy to their eyes. It’s a nice part of the living room, it fits in with the sofa. My cats flinch at each other’s snarl,
they are both Musashi. I look on like jinn researching human life.
When I’m bored I’ll get my books, I hope today is quite interesting.

[Anonymous No.14698182]

sitting on my couch writing what I see

A mantis green coffee mug steady on its coaster, beside a civil pigeon bust and a transparent vase. They balance wizardly like silk pins on an old vinyl, the coffee table curtsies in apathy to their eyes. It’s a nice part of the living room, it fits in with the sofa.

My cats flinch at each other’s snarl, they are both Musashi. I look on like jinn researching human life. When I’m bored I’ll get my books, I hope today is quite interesting.

[Anonymous No.14699084]

>>14695992
I don't believe in you anon
I don't believe you have a future
In verse or prose
Something like that

[Anonymous No.14699108]

>>14697873
I like it, anon. Are the Dead Men inspired by Neechee's last men?

[Anonymous No.14700398]

>>14697943
>>14697935
I don't know anon I don't want to demolish you but it seems pretty cliché, especially the eye thing. I think for a name of a corporation in general it's classier to just use a simple letter/acronym or a more common word but out of the one you said I'd choose Kore.
I'll crit some more later, for now here's mine:


I shed my inner light to welcome change
Curse my blossoms
A tender tongue severed resting upon a shattered mirror /Gaze into it – recover the word
The shape sublimizing into untouched territorial predators angry at the 2-thousand year wars, descending, it cripples us all by frreing our shackles.
I’ll roll my eyes,
down the stairs,
from here to a foreign moon
so they’ll soak the universe.

[Anonymous No.14700440]

The flames of love never known
A heart's fuel sits dry and idle
Waiting for that fierce warmth
That withers the steadfast frost of the inner
But a fire of a different desire occupies the young man's heart
Not of love but of dust and mire
A focus sharpened by time
To fix on failure
Denies the lesson to mature
Rejection placed in castle high
While potential mates pass them by
Life lived in passions gleaned
To only stare at a computer screen

[Anonymous No.14700578]

"You see, when we discuss philosophy we must be very certain not to be certain about uncertain things; in order to 'know' the 'truth', we must not have believed a lie...

"Let us assume that you were raised to believe that what I believe to be the color 'red' was actually called 'blue'... then, when you see a 'red', it would baffle me since it would clearly be 'blue'.
However, it would not be unreasonable to assume that both 'red' and 'blue' exist for the two of us, even as different entities: so we find that the argument was not a very fine one, since it was merely based around definitive semantics, but if this is the nature of all arguments, then was it really not fine as an argument? Or was it, in fact, a very fine argument, and possibly the finest of all in its simpleness; therefore its innocence?"

[Anonymous No.14700717]

>>14674961
That should have been, fourlitreview @ yandex dot com (all lowercase).

My bad to anyone who emailed.

[Anonymous No.14701060]

>>14697148
>>14697159
Damn. Seems like RNG-poetry is still a few years off
>>14697180
No

[Anonymous No.14701310]

>>14701060
>gpt-2
>RNG

[Anonymous No.14701768]

I remember when I was a kid and dust particles would fly in the air from above and around the vent. I would always think they were candy and try to eat them. One day I even did this in front of my confused aunt. Looking back at that moment, an extreme sadness overcomes me because I know I will die soon, and it was completely forgettable and inconsequential. Nobody remembers it except for me and when I’m dead nobody will remember it at all. I’d love to experience that moment again, instead of experiencing the shame in what that innocuous kid grew up to be. I wish I could remember the context of it or what I did the rest of the day, yet all there is that moment and another from either the same day or week of grimly getting in the car to go somewhere. My aunt was visiting, which generally meant family troubles. Something was probably up. Those tenuous asides from my childhood that felt so dire mean absolutely nothing now. I wish I could remember every moment of my life: on the swing-set in my youth, going down the slide and racing my brother, swimming against my sister in a race (terrified of losing to her), and getting my first voicemail from my father. The fortunate thing is sometimes they creep into my conscious, which is all I have to look forward to. It’s as if there was something to care about in life back then, but now I’m just a slumping sack of meat existing in spite of every reason not to. However, I’d imagine if I thought of something from only a week ago, I’d view it in the same light, so my sentimentality is just as vapid as the present. Sometimes, I experience nostalgia when I’m living through a moment though as if I’m forcing myself to pretend to enjoy life. Essentially, I view life through Roy Cohn in Angels in America: a powerful man, highly reputable, but actually a withering faggot. That is what life is, one bad secret waiting to be unveiled, unless you have no secrets, but then you probably have no power. But even still, the secrets of my parents I stumbled upon far too early hold the law to be true and disprove the lack of power, so maybe the opposite is true and power is solitude, and solitude is the only way secrets can’t be unveiled because the only person to uncover them would be yourself, and it’s easy to let myself down, I did it every day until I lost all my expectations. Of course, I still have some pride, so there’s a few karats of disdain to inflect on myself in the coming years. Yes, life is best to be lived alone: maybe in a dark room facing loneliness head-on. I just miss being a kid, not actually a kid, but being youthful in spirit I suppose.

[Anonymous No.14702830]

>>14697168
CRIT ME YOU NIGGERS I CRITTED YOU

[Anonymous No.14703977]

>>14702830
you FUCKS

[Anonymous No.14704031]

>>14701768
I like this style of writing. Can you tell us where is this piece taken from?

[Anonymous No.14704160]

>>14697168
Reads like a nice children's tale about environmentalism and man's accelerated pursuit to "beat the Sun"

[Anonymous No.14704209]

>>14704160
Shiiiet, I tried rereading it (my own post) and it's just dull. It's boring. I was going for retelling a Chink fairytale but I couldn't be arsed even finishing rereading it. Oh well, I can't be a genius every day.

[Anonymous No.14704476]

Peter's house was on a hill by the sea. It was close enough to the sea that the sound of waves rising and falling slowly along the sandy beach could reach it, bringing Peter into an almost hypnotic state. A thick pine forest, like a carpet, covered the hill, hugging the beach. In a whisper, it sang the song, following the rhythm of the waves. It did not know that it had just given Peter a more human company than any of those in the neighboring city could offer him. There was something empathetic in that poem of nature, something that could brighten the tortured spirit of man. But Peter had already passed that stage. The possibility of such a gesture lifting his mood was long behind him. He directed his gaze toward the line dividing the mainland from the sea. The sea foam was red at dusk. He stood with his hands resting on the wooden railing of the balcony until the foam had lost all its luster.

PS Eng is not my first language so i used google translate for this

[Anonymous No.14704547]

>>14701768
I think this style is pretty good. The metaphors you use fit the meaning you want to convey. The scene in the beginning is described in a very simple way. And that is not a bad thing - it doesn't come of as pretentious. I also can sense a spark of defiance in spite of all this hopelessness of the situation (I'm not sure if you were actively going for this, but it is just the way I feel while reading this). All in all I would give you a green light to continue writing in this fashion

[Anonymous No.14704551]

This is my first attempt ever at poetry. Please be constructive in your criticism :'(

[Anonymous No.14704556]

>> 14701463

[Anonymous No.14704568]

>>14701463

[Anonymous No.14704594]

>>14704547
Thanks I was worried all the sentences were too short and it disrupted the flow. I may need to change it, but glad you enjoyed it.

[Anonymous No.14704774]

>>14704551
You need to work on utilizing meter. For instance, shifting "don't smack" to the second line of the stanza makes it for much better. Also your shift in tone half way through doesn't really work here. Ass far as the subject matter goes, it's not very interesting to me, though it's salvageable if you add some humor imo.

[Anonymous No.14705032]

>>14683239
It would help my understanding if you changed poison to poisonous on line 6.

[Anonymous No.14705459]

>>14681628
No, it hasn't gotten any better since you've last posted it

[Anonymous No.14705947]

>>14675911
>>14676010

youve got something here bro

[Anonymous No.14706001]

>>14678273
learn how to write please

[Anonymous No.14706056]

>>14706001
elaborate or perish