Lets see some excerpts from OC, bitches

File: 13 KB, 300x300, OC.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:10:34 2010 No.751907 [Reply] [Original]

Lets see some excerpts from OC, bitches

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:11:34 2010 No.751908 atlas shrugged ayn rand

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:13:34 2010 No.751914 >>751908 derp

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:13:34 2010 No.751918 take it to deviant art, bitch

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:14:34 2010 No.751922 >>751918 nope

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:16:34 2010 No.751925 I was thinking of posting pictures of my semen. That's the OC of my balls. But frankly I don't think there's anyone here worthy of critiquing my cum's literary merit.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:18:34 2010 No.751929 >>751925 i would LOVE to critique your semen

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:19:34 2010 No.751931 So it can be stolen? Nothx, anon.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:19:34 2010 No.751932 >>751929 I've been told it tastes like fresh green peas.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:22:34 2010 No.751941 >>751932 so much want

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:23:34 2010 No.751944 OP here, you guys fucking suck.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:27:34 2010 No.751955 >>751944 Shut up OP, this thread is now about semen.

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 01:27:34 2010 No.751956 File: 43 KB, 500x333, tumblr_l0qpf31o9G1qbrct0o1_500.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] Original content: http://kstang.tumblr.com/post/662564124/1-000-word-essay-re-tao-lins-piece

1/2 Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:27:34 2010 No.751957

Okay OP I'll bite

Infinite sand. Day after day, dune after dune, the desert stretches out in all directions towards the horizons. Trapped in an impassable sea of fire; a cruel landscape under a cruel sky. The sun's rays pillage every last drop of moisture, not a single spot of green left in sight, no, all shriveled up long ago by the sun's insatiable appetite. The blinding intensity of the sun's punishment prohibits all thought. All thought, that is, but for one:

Water. As the haggard traveller struggles up dune after mammoth dune he can almost feel the water in his blood evaporating, siphoned off by the greedy sun for its own uses. He fears the blood in his veins will soon coagulate and form a paste, as his saliva did eons ago. Every single cell in his body shrieks at him for water. Water, please, just one tiny droplet.

As he approaches the crest of each dune hope, beyond all hope, mounts in him that this time, this dune, will be the end; or his end; or any end. But lifting his head each time he is broken once more as he perceives only fire and sand below him. The broken man loses all strength to stand, or even kneel, and plummets to the foot of the next infernal hill, his skin torn by the gravelly fall.

He lies in that sandy valley between dunes for days, months, years, until he has gathered the strength it will take to climb up one more, just one more. The man faces his challenge and begins, not walking anymore, not even crawling, but pulling, himself upwards on his belly. He can't remember how long he has been stuck in this waste. Years. Probably decades and maybe even centuries. In this blazing hell every second feels like a month. How did he get here? What happened before? He can't remember. The cool touch of water running down his throat, the taste of food. The feel of grass on bare feet and the kiss of a light spring rain on his skin. He can't remember. All that remains of his consciousness is this burning desert under a blasting sun.

2/2 Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:28:34 2010 No.751958

Midway through his tortuous ascent he loses will, he lets his face fall into the gravel. He no longer feels the searing heat of the sand. It could be cool soil, or even grass. Fear. He can smell it all around him in their nervous sweat. Fear. He can hear it in their panicked wails. Fear. He can see it in their gaunt faces. Dark men, demons with rifles, pushing, prodding, herding them like cattle out of a great white building. Distinctly alien men; enemies. Now they're walking. He's jabbed in his side by a rifle. Fear, all around him there is only fear. The specters line them up, shoulder to bony shoulder. Now they're forced to kneel, knees knocked in by the blunt butt of a rifle. A shot. No one screams. Shot. A corpse thuds to the ground. Shot. Closer now. Shot. He feels the cold steel pressed against the back of his head. No more shots. The lifeless body falls forward, falling on its face in the grass.

Not grass any longer, no, it's sand. Once more in the ocean of fire the exhausted traveller finds it within himself to haul his weary body to the top of the dune. He reaches the crest of the hill, hoping no longer for the end, expecting only bright fire.

The man stares blankly, his moment of remembrance only a few moments past already faded. In the gravelly valley below he sees a huge ruin, half buried. A great dome stands tilted slightly on its side. Both sands, desert and time, have robbed it of its original pearly white. One side of the dome is collapsed in, revealing a cavernous room inside once adorned with frescos, now long since scraped blank by time. Atop the great dome still standing tall a great bronze woman holds a laurel wreath and shield in one hand, a sheathed sword in the other.

Just another ruin.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:29:34 2010 No.751960 It was Tuesday so I slept in. THE END

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 01:32:34 2010 No.751967 >>751958 >>751957 2 many adjectives

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:32:34 2010 No.751969 >>751957 Saved this in a word doc and am handing this in for my final creative writing assignment. Thanks anon~

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:33:34 2010 No.751973

I sitted up from the chair that I was sitting in
melancholy. It was a cloudy day that was also dark, plus it
was raining. I pulled up my trousers before realizing they
were my mother's tight pants. After getting dress I walked
out side where It was downpouring rain. "I forgot my
umbrella" I shouted greasily. I tried to get back into my
house, but my hands soaked in a strange clear liquid could
not hold on to the metallic knob protruding from the wooden
barrier. So I sauntered
saucily slowing suddenly
so I could pick up the local
paper. "THE NEW JERSEY
TRIBUNAL" I read aloud. I
shoved it into my wet
pocket and got into my
1997 Ford mercadeds. I
drove hatsily to work.
When I arrived at work,
or what I call "Prison!" I
realised that my trousers
were couverd in ink."
How embarrassing" I
thought loudly aloud. This is not going to be a good day.
In my "cube of cool" as I so cleverly called it, I browsed online
for attractive women. When all of a sudden out of nowhere
my boss came in behind me. "HGGGHMMM" His throat
obnoxsiously shouted as he cleared it. I quickly put my shoes,
socks, trousers, and underwear on(In that order sadly).
"Yeah boss?" I said incconetly. "You have those
IPS"YES!"Reports" I interuppted
about a 2/3rds through his sentece, but
he kept going anyways. "Let me view
them" he said. "OK" I said. "please
hand them over" I received this
from him. "Now." I asked without the
inflection making it sound like an
order(or was it him ordering me?). I
handed over papers covered in
grease. He acted discussed. And
trotted off like and otter to the slaughter. I removed
everything from the waist down and strarted to pleasure
my self to women in men's clothing. "Lunch was soon" I hooted
like a day time owl.

>>	oc guy Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:33:34 2010 No.751975 >>751969 please do

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:34:34 2010 No.751977 >>751956 Would be cute except you have a tumblr.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:34:34 2010 No.751978 Here's an excerpt from the novel I'm working on: "the" What'd you think?

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:34:34 2010 No.751980 >>751978 Shorten it

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:35:34 2010 No.751981 >>751978 fuck you and your purple prose

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 01:36:34 2010 No.751989 >>751977 What's wrong with tumblr Too "cool" for you? >>751973 That was effing good. A+

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:38:34 2010 No.751991 File: 29 KB, 169x236, baaaaaaaaaaaaw.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>751944 go learn about FNASR, you retard

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:39:34 2010 No.751994 >>751989 Too full of primarily self involved assholes, actually. Which I guess can be 'cool' for you...

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 01:42:34 2010 No.751998 >>751994 lol

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:44:34 2010 No.752002 4chan is fuckin gay and won't let me post my shit.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:45:34 2010 No.752003 >>752002 fuck up 4chan's shit then!

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:45:34 2010 No.752006 >>752002 I'll try again within a four part poem. I'm fucking drunk though so it may be fucked.

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:50:34 2010 No.752016

Brothers

What sins have we committed?

Wrath
Acedia
Lust

At your going away
party I had sex on the floor of your dauther's bedroom

I asked you for a comdom
but you didn't
have one

After
I came out
I remember you said

You're having sex more often in this house than i am

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:52:34 2010 No.752019 >>752016 ok I lold

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:52:34 2010 No.752020

>>752016
I broke

the front door window
when I was drunk
You broke the coffee table

This was before you got the knife out and stabbed
the walls
the kitchen table

For a long time
I thought you were the beginning and the end
of everything

Now
I'm not so sure

Especially after that night
I helped you piss in a parking lot

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:54:34 2010 No.752030

>>752020
We can spend all afternoon patching the holes
in your bike tire

What else can we fix?

The pool float
Our livers
Our relationship

We were never good at fixing things, though

We were more suited for
breaking beer bottles in the street
getting kicked out of next door neighbors houses
picking fights with loves ones

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:55:34 2010 No.752031

>>752030
If our roles were reversed, could I have
done a better job?

Taught you more
than how to mix the perfect whiskey sour?

Being first,
you didn't know what
to do

I wouldn't known less

Escept maybe I would have known
better than to crush your dreams

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:57:34 2010 No.752036 >>752031 >>752030 >>752020 >>752016 DONE fucking drunk and it took me forever. tell me what you think, i guess.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 01:59:34 2010 No.752040 This shit sucks. This thread was better when it was about my spunk.

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:03:34 2010 No.752056

I tried.

I fear that I may die one day, and rot
Inside my tomb, left cold and still, as ice
That frosts along the windows perched on homes,
Forgotten, closed, and empty. Owners flock
To new abodes; for vain is man who seeks
His peace in what he owns, or what escapes
His clutching hands. Bad neighbors force a move,
Perhaps, or maybe creaking doors, or paint
That seems to never wash away. Will you
Like owners, leave my home-to-be? My tomb
Shall serve as home to me, and home to you
As well. The cushions, laced and white, shall act
As kitchen, den, and bed, while thoughts of past
Relationships, of smiles and chances missed
Walk faintly down the narrow halls, the crease
and folds of mind turned Swiss with holes by worms
That eat as streams of water crushing rocks.
Away, away! You shut me off, your backs
Turned toward the mound of dirt and grass
Which under lies my placid form, to be
Abandoned, left with nothing save the blooms
Of lilacs; purple, wilted, aging plants
To be replaced but once a year. A sigh
Slips out your mouths, not out of grieve or loss,
But quiet anger, forced to see a home
That you had left when time was up.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:06:34 2010 No.752067 >>752040 Too bad you're too much of a faggot to post your spunk.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:07:34 2010 No.752071 >>751958 Very well written, but not very poetic. It is too melodramatic for my taste . I would loose all the single word periods.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:07:34 2010 No.752073 >>752030 >>752020 >>752016 I really liked these, not so much the last one

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:07:34 2010 No.752074 >>752056 it lacts impact, that's the only constructive criticism I can think of, which isn't always bad but it tends to be the idea when writing about these kinds of themes.

lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 02:08:34 2010 No.752075

>>752031
>>752030
>>752020
>>752016

Critiques-
1. wasn't fond of the subject matter. it was very bro/frat-boy boorish content but via an emo boy perspective. i hope this isn't auto-biographical. i kinda assumed it was.

2. a few empty clichés here and there. don't know if you did it on purpose. "I thought you were the beginning and the end of everything" sounds like nickelback lyrics or other b.s.

3. Overall thought it was ok. Good imagery, but definitely lots of room for improvement.

>>751973
Still my fave.

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 02:09:34 2010 No.752078 >>752056 holy shit. worst poem in here. fucking myspace poetry.

Jeff Sat Jun 5 02:10:34 2010 No.752082

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all around the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me

And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly
From the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me

What a curious life
We have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds
Anna's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees

Now, how I remember you
How I would push my fingers through your mouth
To make those muscles move
That made your voice so smooth and sweet
And now we keep where we don't know
All secrets sleep in winter clothes
With one you loved so long ago
Now he don't even know his name

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all around the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe
How strange it is to be anything at all

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:12:34 2010 No.752083

>>752073
thanks, it's still a work in progress, and i'm really not sure how to end it.

>>752075
i tried to stay clear of a fratboy feel. it's honestly an autobiographical piece about my brother and me. we're both alcoholics i guess you could say, which is what i was trying to capture.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:12:34 2010 No.752084 >>752040 POAST UR CUM

Friendly Fat Chick !GjeWV9COa. Sat Jun 5 02:14:34 2010 No.752087

There was nothing to do now but to wait for the ashes to settle. A mild delirium had started to set in, probably from her untreated broken leg, she dimly theorized. Ocean waves lapped lazily at her makeshift raft, but they were ablaze. So much was still ablaze. What had once been a humble schooner was now nothing more than burning pieces of flotsam, caught in the lull of a calm sea.

For a moment, the delirium lifted. She remembered being saved from that wretched island, saved by a crew oddly clothed men. None of their faces could be seen, and very few of them spoke. It was only when the brig was upon them and panicked words were exchanged did she realize that her rescuers were pariahs. Folk diseased beyond any hope of a cure, they were relegated to an island colony, to waste away or die; whichever came first. Having commandeered a ship that had stopped at the island for fresh water, those poor diseased bastards had tried to make a run for it, to make a break for a better life.

But all they were were burning pieces of flotsam, caught in the lull of a calm sea.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:14:34 2010 No.752088 >>752067 Too bad you aren't too much of faggot to post your shitty poetry. Could have saved a lot of people a great deal of pain. Jesus, this shit sucks.

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 02:15:34 2010 No.752092 >>752083 hmmm very interesting

>>	oc guy Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:19:34 2010 No.752099 >>752088 FUCK YOU YOU SUCK

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:22:34 2010 No.752107 File: 47 KB, 319x243, youmad.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>752099

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:22:34 2010 No.752109 >>752082 sappy

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:22:34 2010 No.752111 >>752088 I noticed you haven't posted your own shitty poetry? Maybe it's because you're a faggot who writes shitty poetry and only finds enjoyment in criticizing the poetry of others? U mad?

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 02:23:34 2010 No.752112 >>752109 it's neutral milk hotel lyrics

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:23:34 2010 No.752113 >>752112 it still sucks

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:24:34 2010 No.752116 >>752082 I just fucking realized this was NMH! I LOVE YOU JESUS CHRISTSSSTSTSTWSTSTSTS JESSUSUSUSUS CHRIST I LOVOOOOOOOVE YOU YEEEEEEESSSSSS I DOOOOOOOOO

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:28:34 2010 No.752126 It tell's me part of my post isn't allowed, so I guess you are all spared.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:30:34 2010 No.752133 >>752111 >U mad? Nope. But clearly you are.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:31:34 2010 No.752136 >>752126 come ON I NEED more stuff i can stomp down to feel superior

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:32:34 2010 No.752138

Regardless of the situation, she lay face up staring into the very grains of sand the brick ceiling was carved from, tears dwindling from her blood shot eyes. Tracks from her previous tears lead the current onward, splashing onto the concrete slab stationed below her head. She truly had no reason to live anymore, she wanted to commit suicide but the guards here had given her no chance. She wasn't even given utensils to eat with. She tried to choke herself on the watery glucose substance they gave her but she would only end up coughing and gasping. She hastily came to the conclusion that option was futile and just spent time receding into herself, carving numbers and names into the stone walls with her irritated, bloody finger tips.

>>	Friendly Fat Chick !GjeWV9COa. Sat Jun 5 02:32:34 2010 No.752140 >>752136 >>752087 Read mine.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:33:34 2010 No.752141 File: 19 KB, 449x336, umaddd.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>752133

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:33:34 2010 No.752144

>>751906

ej tl hs a qmufzik ziCHaRISTOdPHrER PfOoOLEj (AKA MOOmT, AKA THE ADMgIkNc OFy 4CHAnNj)o IS Am DANuGERxOUSy,n MENTALLnY ILL ToHrIEF. RzEAD ALL AoBOUpTk IpTd HfEdREs: HTcTP://a8i8.8i0i.p2y1.12/ OR HTTPi:s//WWbWa.ArNOlNuTALK.SE/ OR HvTxTyP:/y/ATn.uKIMMOA.SnE/li wsa lg enm o yp w x rj

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:34:34 2010 No.752146 File: 50 KB, 695x508, u-mad.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>752141

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:37:34 2010 No.752154 /lit/ - umad reaction images In other news, part of my post isn't allowed. Too good, I presume.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:38:34 2010 No.752156 File: 10 KB, 323x269, umadbat.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>752146

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:40:34 2010 No.752160 File: 74 KB, 610x509, trolled.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] >>752156

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:41:34 2010 No.752162 is this /b/ or something

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:42:34 2010 No.752165 >>752162 Or something.

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:43:34 2010 No.752167

>>752087
Yours kinda remind me of
>>751958
>>751957
which i rag down upon here:
>>752071
Same dull behavioristic narrator, again a "wast landscape". There's a lot of info dumping going on, which I like, but it is just a buildup. What would be more interesting to read is what comes next.

Friendly Fat Chick !GjeWV9COa. Sat Jun 5 02:47:34 2010 No.752173

>>752167
I get what you mean by the info dump, but how is the narration dull?
And thank you for your honest feedback. I was personally surprised by the feedback I got when I showed it to others. I wrote what I did just for this thread.

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 02:57:34 2010 No.752184 >>752173 are you really a girl or is your name ironic?

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 02:58:34 2010 No.752185 >>752184 And by way of a follow-up comment, tits or GTFO!

>>	lé neuro !!NfjlKga5icU Sat Jun 5 02:59:34 2010 No.752188 >>752185 lol, that's rude...

>>	Friendly Fat Chick !GjeWV9COa. Sat Jun 5 03:03:34 2010 No.752195 >>752184 I am what my name says. >>752185 Summerfag, gb2/b/.

>>	Nigra !KQcWi99D7g Sat Jun 5 03:54:34 2010 No.752268 File: 103 KB, 470x324, Walrus-Nietzsche-God-is-dead.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 12:44:34 2010 No.753005 bamp

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 12:56:34 2010 No.753024
File: 104 KB, 460x357, hamburglarrofl.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>>752082
>And one day we will die
>And our ashes will fly
>From the aeroplane over the sea
>But for now we are young
>Let us lay in the sun
>And count every beautiful thing we can see
>Love to be
>In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 13:05:34 2010 No.753042 The Gods are four whose works grow cold As one betrays their laws of old Then dark grow deeds, and darker hearts For lost to all are holy arts A vagrant comes amidst the gloom To seal the gaping maw of doom

1/2 Anonymous Sat Jun 5 13:27:34 2010 No.753099

>>751958
>>751957
Slightly edited.

Infinite sand. Day after day, dune after dune, the desert stretches out in all directions to the horizons. Trapped in an immense sea of fire; a cruel landscape under a cruel sky. The sun's rays pillage every last drop of moisture, not a single spot of green left in sight, no, all shriveled up long ago by the sun's insatiable appetite. The blinding intensity of the sun's punishment prohibits all thought. All thought, that is, but for one:

Water. As the haggard traveller struggles up dune after mammoth dune he can almost feel the water in his blood evaporating, siphoned off by the greedy sun for its own uses. He fears the blood in his veins will soon coagulate and form a paste, as his saliva did eons ago. Every single cell in his body shrieks at him for water. Merciful water, please, just one tiny droplet.

As he approaches the crest of each dune hope, beyond all hope, mounts in him that this time, this dune, will be the end; his end; any end. But lifting his head each time he is broken once more as he perceives only fire and sand below him. The man loses all power to stand, even to kneel, and plummets to the foot of the next infernal hill, his skin torn by the fall.

He lies in that gravelly valley for days, months, years, until he has gathered the strength it will take to climb up one more, just one more dune. The man faces his challenge and begins, not walking anymore, not even crawling, but pulling himself inch by inch upwards on his belly. He can't remember how long he has been stuck in this waste. Years. Probably decades and maybe even centuries. In his blazing hell every second feels like a month. How did he get here? What happened before? He can't remember. The cool touch of water running down his throat, the taste of food. The feel of wet grass on bare feet and the kiss of a light spring rain on his skin. He can't remember. All that remains of his consciousness is his desert under a blasting sun.

2/2 Anonymous Sat Jun 5 13:27:34 2010 No.753101
File: 44 KB, 500x510, capitol.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

Midway through his ascent he loses will, and lets his heavy head fall into the gravel. He no longer feels the searing heat of the sand. It could be cool soil, or even a grassy hill on a sleepy summer day...

Fear. He can smell it all around him in their nervous sweat. Fear. He can see it in their faces. Fear. He can hear it in their hushed whispers. Dark men, demons with rifles, pushing, prodding, herding them like cattle out of a white building. Distinctly alien; enemies. Now they're walking. He's jabbed in the side by a rifle. Fear, all around him there is only sheer, muted terror. The specters line them up shoulder to shoulder. Now they're forced to kneel, knees knocked in by the butts of the rifles. A shot, a corpse thuds to the ground. Shot. No one is screaming. Shot. Closer now. Shot. He feels the cold steel pressed against the back of his head, and the world goes silent. No more shots. The lifeless body slumps forward, falling on its face in the grass.

Not grass. Sand. Once more in the ocean of fire the exhausted traveller finds it within himself to haul his weary body to the top of the next dune. He reaches the crest of the hill, hoping no longer for the end, expecting only bright fire.

The man stares blankly, his moment of remembrance only a few moments past already faded. In the sandy valley below he sees a huge ruin, half buried. A great dome stands tilted slightly on its side. Both sands, desert and time, have robbed it of its original austere white. One side of the dome is collapsed in, revealing a cavernous room inside once adorned with frescos, now long since scraped blank by time. Atop the great dome still standing tall a bronze woman holds a laurel wreath and shield in one hand, a sheathed sword in the other.

It's just another ruin.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 13:53:34 2010 No.753193 >>753099 >>753101 lol tldr

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 13:55:34 2010 No.753197

Now allow me to enchant you with a most hilarious anecdote that would beget a chortle from even the most stiffed-back of gentlemen. It all began on a chilly October morn. Suffice it to say, I found myself stark naked in my oaken study, applying pressure and varied hand oscillations to my firm appendage. With the inception of my orgastic state, there began a firm knocking at my study door, which, resounding ever so cacophonously, terminated this transient euphoria. Before I could fully withdraw old Polyphemus, a young village boy, Pirrip burst forthwith into my study. His eyesight, as if by magnet, was drawn to the pool of pearl-coloured slime I had henceforth deposited on the oaken-paneled floor of my chamber. He gasped before devouring it with a frenzied avarice. Pausing, he turned to me, and inquired, "Please sir, may I have some more?" His inquiry, stated in such a querulous tone, incited a superhuman state of rage in my being. Polyphemus, having been recently drained, was shortly thereafter brimming with blood, and I began to oblige the blacksmith's boy's odd beseeching.

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 14:19:34 2010 No.753226

Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the popholes. With the ring of light from his lantern dancing from side to side, he lurched across the yard, kicked off his boots at the back door, drew himself a last glass of beer from the barrel in the scullery, and made his way up to bed, where Mrs. Jones was already snoring.

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 14:20:34 2010 No.753230

>>753226
As soon as the light in the bedroom went out there was a stirring and a fluttering all through the farm buildings. Word had gone round during the day that old Major, the prize Middle White boar, had had a strange dream on the previous night and wished to communicate it to the other animals. It had been agreed that they should all meet in the big barn as soon as Mr. Jones was safely out of the way. Old Major (so he was always called, though the name under which he had been exhibited was Willingdon Beauty) was so highly regarded on the farm that everyone was quite ready to lose an hour's sleep in order to hear what he had to say.
At one end of the big barn, on a sort of raised platform, Major was already ensconced on his bed of straw, under a lantern which hung from a beam. He was twelve years old and had lately grown rather stout, but he was still a majestic-looking pig, with a wise and benevolent appearance in spite of the fact that his tushes had never been cut. Before long the other animals began to arrive and make themselves comfortable after their different fashions.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 15:39:34 2010 No.753386 bamp

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 16:21:34 2010 No.753493 >>753230 >>753226 i think i has red this somewhar else

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 16:42:34 2010 No.753567 File: 16 KB, 439x458, obverse.png [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] 4chan wouldn't let me post this poem as text... What do you guys think?

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 17:11:34 2010 No.753670

Some walls are made of stone
sometimes we build our own
some walls stand for years
and some wash away with tears

Some walls are lined with gold where
some hearts stay safe and cold
some walls are made from doubt
holding in and keeping out

If there's any hope for love at all...
some walls must fall
If there's any hope for love at all...
some walls must fall

Some walls are built on pride
some keep the child inside
some walls are built in fear that
love let go will disappear

1/? Sat Jun 5 17:14:34 2010 No.753685

The old man knocks on the door. His clothes are covered in mud and blood.

'Is anyone there? I need help.'

He starts to smash on the door.

'Come on.'

He tries the handle.

He moves to the window of the farm house. He looks in.

The window is covered in dust. The furniture is dilapidated.

He picks up a rock and breaks the window. He maneuvers himself in through the broken glass.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 17:20:34 2010 No.753716 >>753670 good!

2/? Sat Jun 5 17:23:34 2010 No.753731

He moves over to an old fashioned phone. He lifts the receiver to his ear. He drops it.

He goes into the kitchen.

He pulls open the cutlery drawer. He rifles through what's been left. He takes out a rusty bread knife.

He is startled by an elderly woman behind him.

'What are you doing?'

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 17:24:34 2010 No.753735 >>753716 that's not really critique.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 17:24:34 2010 No.753738 >>753731 You overuse the word 'he'.

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 17:38:34 2010 No.753782 >>753716 That's Tommy Emmanuel ;)

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 17:40:34 2010 No.753788

i'm still working on this one, it feels a bit verbose, but then thats usual for me. also i think the imagerys a bit cluttered and jumps around a bit, thinking i should work on a more linear image, but then again its a bit dream-like. not sure, is it style or error?

1145 just fell, with waters moonburnt from the well,
from her the dusk, this fell from then fell back to it, disturbing shell.
What deadly rest, what deadly suite, takes onto eyes this night so bleak?
Where hope springs infernal, and brief, and somniferous hours rise to meet,
Alone in me, open skyline, separated only by lights,
Jutting iridescence blind, the drain of colour fills the eyes.
Four rebels gaze through glass englazed right through the polymeric drone,
In vapid depthlessness a glare, in back it girds a black caress
Half hollowed Ache, half softened moths from chest all hatching breath,
on quilt in jeans at wrest a knotting ether ever leaving you

(if you look closely theres a name spelt out)

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 18:16:34 2010 No.753873

>>753670

the first two lines start on a trimeter, though most of it doesnt have a strong meter, it makes the rhythm sound jumbled, it feels easier to read if theres either a constant meter or absence of it (or atleast a recurring pattern), otherwise it confuses you a little when reading it

the walls washing tears image sounds a bit clunky too, im not really getting it too easily, if youve got a good metaphor between wall and tears, i would articulate it better or change the wording

also i can see it overall is a portrait of romantic relationships through the metahpor of walls, the imagery of love/relationships just come through crystal clear though, its kinda obfuscated a little by the gold/cold pride/childinside lines a little, i think you need to link them with some more language back to the theme

this is just me being devilishly critical though, other than that its pretty good, i like the idea of rotating the images round this theme of walls
its sweet and simple

Anonymous Sat Jun 5 18:45:34 2010 No.753952

>>752056
>>752056

its well constrcuted, you can definitely write, language is tight and flowing

you deal with death in quite a detached way though, theres kinda a existentialism to it that almost sounds ironic, but its not clear, or striking enough if i were to make the main criticism

the first sentance is a bit misleading though (and doesnt really plunge you into its strengths), it lays out this very dry fear of mortality, but then you leaps awkwardly to this embellishing imagery, going on about the neighbours and worms etc; kinda from the dry and dark to the flowery

>>	Anonymous Sat Jun 5 19:35:34 2010 No.754041 bamp

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 05:51:34 2010 No.755905 Oh wow, OC thread still up. Can I have a comment on >>753567 then?

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 05:52:34 2010 No.755907 I'm allergic to beans.

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 05:53:34 2010 No.755911 >>755905 shit sucks. sorry.

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:14:34 2010 No.755936 >>755911 Why?

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:24:34 2010 No.755948 'part of your comment isn't allowed to be posted' :(

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:35:34 2010 No.755964 >>755948 That happens pretty often if you paste a longer text. Try posting an image.

Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:36:34 2010 No.755965

The sea and sky melded together in the distance, one solid, flowing blue. He looked above and below and saw the raft beneath his feet. If he laid back and looked into the sky which was the sea, would he drown? The thought skittered across his mind, barely touching down before it took off again.

He laid down.
Time passed and he closed his eyes and got up, wiping wetness from his face with the palm of his hand. Squinting into the sun, he wondered how much time had passed. The question was, ultimately, abstract, as time had no meaning to him since he had nothing to relate it to. There was light, and dark, and the times in between. Sitting, he picked a bone from a pile that was beginning to bleach in the sun and absently gnawed as he pondered whether time existed or not. He smiled wide as he chewed and thought and drifted. The taste was improving, he thought to himself. The skull, bits of flesh still hanging off it, sneered at him condescendingly, pointing out that the taste had always been as delicious as he now found it and he was the one who had previously been unable to comprehend that it was so. Nodding, he laughed hoarsely as he floated on the current, in the middle of the wide, empty sea.

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:45:34 2010 No.755971 i can't take anything this board says seriously after seeing this crap >:(

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:48:34 2010 No.755973 >>755971 :(

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 06:51:34 2010 No.755975 >>755971 so critique, then. most of the people who've posted are, no doubt, open to criticism. just saying that it's all crap isn't particularly helpful to anyone.

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 07:03:34 2010 No.755981 >>755975 >so critique, then. I don't think there should be a comma there. It breaks the flow of the sentence.

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 16:35:34 2010 No.757537 necro!

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 16:39:34 2010 No.757549 Why doesn't anybody like my poem about night? :( >>753567

>>	Anonymous Sun Jun 6 16:41:34 2010 No.757553 Born in a White Man's womb Shedding Darkness as she sleeps an INtroverted fellow of kind times Living in a world of broken lines

Anonymous Sun Jun 6 16:47:22 2010 No.757572

>>751904

"w" + "c" - "c" + "w" + "h" - "h" + "w" + "a" - "a" + "." + "j" - "j" + "a" + "r" - "r" + "n" + "s" - "s" + "o" + "j" - "j" + "n" + "l" - "l" + "t" + "m" - "m" + "a" + "k" - "k" + "l" + "l" - "l" + "k" + "y" - "y" + "." + "a" - "a" + "s" + "f" - "f" + "e" + "l" - "l"

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/lit/ - Literature