untitled

[Revolte]

I cannot breathe when angels die
and I explode in particles of ether,
cutting my lungs with radioactive lullabies
and firefly vengeance;
igniting flames in my gut
so that I can disperse into ash.


*** oh god I feel like I lost something here.... ><

[tailor STATELY]

untitled
I cannot breath when angles die
and I explode in particles of ether,
cutting my lungs with radioactive lullabies
and firefly vengeance;
igniting flames in my gut
so that I can disperse into ash.


*** oh god I feel like I lost something here.... ><

Angles or angels ?

I enjoyed the imagery but first you explode into ether - then your lungs and gut have their experiences. I may be wrong, but sequentially, this doesn't work for me.

Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor STATELY

[AuntShecky]

Despite the specific nouns -- "radioactive particles," "firefly," "gut," and "ashes" the piece itself seems amorphous and abstract because it gives the reader too little to go on as to how such a sensation could arise. Also, I think you mean "breathe," not "breath," right?

[Revolte]

Meowth >< I tried fixing it before I posted it here and had broken it. I haven't been able to write in months you guys, MONTHS! ><

I fixed the errors at least though, I had just jotted this down in a facebook post and was like "hey yea, this is the most I've done I'ma share it like a boss", gotta post something, sheeee.

[AuntShecky]

Meowth >< I tried fixing it before I posted it here and had broken it. I haven't been able to write in months you guys, MONTHS! ><

I fixed the errors at least though, I had just jotted this down in a facebook post and was like "hey yea, this is the most I've done I'ma share it like a boss", gotta post something, sheeee.

Oh gosh yeah, I getcha and sympathize. No-- make that empathize. F'instance, two prose stories are completely "up here," and I can't release them onto a page or screen, no matter how I try. Looking for all kinds of excuses, short of cleaning out the kitchen cabinets, rather than go through the agony of writing 'em down. Then when yours fooly does manage to wrench out a couple of poems and post 'em this forum, no LitNutter comments.

So I hear ya, Revolte, loud and clear.