renwick
on witch's bliss by crin
15 Sep 2002, 10:18 PM
I like it although something about the first two lines in the last stanza don't sound right to me. I give it a 7.
why's it called crispy if it's crunchy? S.O.g.
I don't understand the "shape" of this poem. A slide? A method of distancing?
Ignoring the shape, I like the simplicity of statement. The rhythm is really strange, but it works.
what triggered you realizing that you will never look at her the same again, p&k?
i like 'singing ots own little song'. that's a sweet little observation, and the best part of this. the rest of it doesn't seem to do anything but state the obvious. what were you going for here, katie?
dammit, doug, this isn't a haiku! i like the sentiment, though. can you put another one down with something about planes launched from fucking mosques at the world trade center? i think that would even be more poignant (and certainly more relevant). i need some caffeine.
you could get what you came for too, if'n you'd only stop crying alone in the dark, rotty
damn Nick, this shit is really ruining my monday morning. mostly because i don't know what the hell you're talking about. sure there was some collateral damage, but it's war, old chum. who was in the WTC when that came down, soldiers? after watching the 9/11 shit last week, i think we haven't killed nearly enough of them. take your shame and stick it up your ass.
I know the feeling well.
I'm not sure if the gramatical "errors" were purposeful or not.
she sounds cute can i take her out on a date? (spwan of god'swife)
Other than this line:
"You claim my voice is false and charms"
,which could have been written better such as
"full of false charms" or something like that, I really like it. I like the part about fucking the sister. It takes guts or revenge to admit such a thing.
Baba^Yaga - seems like you've got some itchity switch that needs a cleansing. Try holy water - (its in the back of the sanctuary, next to the pope's glory hole) If you talk to the dispenser of your ill-fated and tainted drip on a regular basis tell her. Otherwise fuck her (just not like the other leathered and feathered trickity whore night).
the first bit describing the morning is niftily done, but doesn't really say anything. The second bit tries to say something but the two bits don't mix well for me.
Interesting but there really isn't much emotion to it.
This is cute; I like the toss of "Oh captain, my captain" into the mix. The poem as a whole has a good flow/feel to it.