Everything Must Go! (RESULTS POSTED)

Do You Know Me?

That would be a "No."	40.2%	[ 43 ]
Of course! We're BFFs!	4.7%	[ 5 ]
Who really knows Anyone?	29.0%	[ 31 ]
Gold?	26.2%	[ 28 ]
Total Votes:			[ 107 ]

[jumpforjo]

I wrote this today on the prompt of love, and it's exactly 100 words.
I don't really know, but I couldn't choose what to submit, so. I hope you enjoy it!

Love.
What a funny word.
Say it again.
Love.
But why do we even call it that?
Where do we get that word?
Love.
In French, it's amour, in Latin it's amare.
In Italian it's amore, in Spanish it's amor.
Love.
Try to define it.
Go ahead, try.
Love.
It encompasses so much.
It's impossible to define.
Love.
Sometimes, you don't realize you love something until it's gone.
Sometimes, you know it the moment you acquire it.
Love.
We mistake a lot of things for love.
Infatuation, admiration, dependency, lust, gratitude.
Love.
What a funny word.
Say it again.
Love.

[jumpforjo]

moonbird67

I'll try.

I wrote this last year for a flash fiction assignment and I fell in love with it. I don't pretend that this is my best, but I do like the darkness to it.

The Final Sunset

Red melted with gold and the amber faded into a midnight blue of regal royalties, making the stars pale in comparison to its beauty. The whisper of the waves, the chirp of the crickets and the singing of the shifting sand orchestrated the nightly lullaby, lulling all the world’s inhabitants into a peaceful slumber. The only person sitting in view of the pyre-colored world was a girl. She watched the flames consume the colors and cover them in the ash of the monochromatic of the moon, the feeling of peace descending into her soul.

This was the only time of day where she felt alive – truly alive. In the day, she was no one; a ghost forced to wander in the purgatory that was reality. She was only seen when someone was laughing at her and spitting their poison. She was only heard when she bit back the sobs that choked down on her lungs. Everyone knew that she spent her hours sitting in the shadows of a dusty corner and watching everyone through blurred eyes, wishing that her vision was clear.

She often wondered what she did to be shunned. She often tried to change everything about herself. She often put on a mask, a new face, in hopes that no one would recognize her. But nothing helped. She was the girl everyone knew; the one everyone looked down on. She was the one with the notes in her locker; the notes calling her names. She was the one with the glares attracted to her back; the back someone had taped a sign to. She was the one who everyone knew, but no one knew her name. To everyone else she was just a flickering candle waiting for the wind to blow her out, a sunset waiting to fall.

She was passed the point of no return now – she thought as they did. She thought that every glare, every sneer, and every bark sent her way was justified; that she deserved this treatment and nothing more. She thought that the tears she cried were the only thing that brought her a shred of worth. Her tears brought more smiles and more laughs to the ones around her. As long as they were happy with it, then she could bear another drop of acid rain scorching her once rosy skin.

But everyone has their breaking point.

So she now sat on the beach at the end of the earth, the newly risen moon accenting the pale words forever etched on her arms. Her auburn hair was plastered to her face, dripping its sweetly smelling substance dotting the sand like falling tears. A smile graced her thin lips as she beheld the last wink of the sun on the horizon. Her long pale fingers reached for the last bit of the ball of fire; gripping the air as if she was holding onto its essence. A flash lit up the beach as its sun made its final dive beneath the churning waters and the girl fell to her knees, the fire engulfing her body like a starved dog would a bone.

“I am the final sunset.”

I absolutely loved this.
The imagery is great, and I think never giving the girl a name sets a certain tone that I can't put a word to to your piece. The only grammatical error I caught was the use of 'passed' instead of passed, but other than that, this was amazing, and very powerful.

[moonbird67]

jumpforjo

I absolutely loved this.
The imagery is great, and I think never giving the girl a name sets a certain tone that I can't put a word to to your piece. The only grammatical error I caught was the use of 'passed' instead of passed, but other than that, this was amazing, and very powerful.

Wait...you said "the used of 'passed' instead of passed." I think you meant "past," lol.

Edit: Actually, this is correct. The term "Passed" means pass, but in the past tense (lol). As in she passed the Stop sign without stopping. Past means before the present, associated with time. Like: In the past, there were dinosaurs.

[moonbird67]

Mairose

What The Waves Delivered At Our Feet

Ok, I read your piece and may I just say it was a fun little read for sure.

I liked all of your sensory detali and imagery, however there is a time and place for everything. What I mean for this, is you can show the readers instead of tell. The beginning/opening lines were fantastic, however the effect started dimishing. Shortened sentences can easily say as much as long. For instance, you said:

"Steven and I stayed under our tent until we felt the shudder of the engines and the sickening feeling of disassociation with solid ground; the ferry was chugging along, bumping against the rubber-lined barriers that guided it from the dock"

The first half of this sentence is fine. However the second half could be modified to say something mroe along the lines of: "the ferry swayed as it was buffered along its path." It is short, simple, to the point, and allows the reader to interpret what this means as you have already stated the ferry was beginning to move, therefore it is only logical that it isn't in open waters yet. Understand?

Watch out for your Point of View - it was hard for me to follow. It seemed to me like you kept switching between third PoV and first, or maybe I just missed something completely.

Can I make one more suggestion? This story, though great visually, lacks emotional depth. You can have all of the most beautiful colors, scents, and sounds, but they mean nothing without just as much emotion behind them. The "One Year Ago" section was a lot better with it, but it was still all telling us and not showing (EX: instead of saying the young girl is afraid of clowns, say "her innocent eyes gleamed as she reached for her mtohers hand, the monster with the terrible smile looming over her). A story is just a story and a picture is just a picture without emotions - it takes extreme depth and layers upon layers to create a masterpiece.

You are so close, the battle is 80% completed. Good work.

[PoIitoad]

White Room

I hear voices in my head.
Maybe they're speaking to me from the dead.
Blood drips from the ceiling.
Can't you tell I'm a psycho with no feeling?

Chains bind me to this white room.
Angrily I ponder your sadistic doom.
Am I Alive, or am I dead?
Insanity was what I was lead.

[PoIitoad]

jumpforjo

I wrote this today on the prompt of love, and it's exactly 100 words.
I don't really know, but I couldn't choose what to submit, so. I hope you enjoy it!

Love.
What a funny word.
Say it again.
Love.
But why do we even call it that?
Where do we get that word?
Love.
In French, it's amour, in Latin it's amare.
In Italian it's amore, in Spanish it's amor.
Love.
Try to define it.
Go ahead, try.
Love.
It encompasses so much.
It's impossible to define.
Love.
Sometimes, you don't realize you love something until it's gone.
Sometimes, you know it the moment you acquire it.
Love.
We mistake a lot of things for love.
Infatuation, admiration, dependency, lust, gratitude.
Love.
What a funny word.
Say it again.
Love.

I think the poem is simple with a clear message. It makes people question what is love? I like how you mention its word in other languages. This was a nice short poem that made me wonder where the word love comes from. heart

[x_Squiddish_x]

Mairose

The genre of my story doesn't have anything to do with hookers and trannys, it was just a side character in the beginning, but that's great you're not intimidated by critiquing a longer piece! I look forward to hearing your opinion on it, if you critique it. biggrin

Haha, that's not what I was implying. You know, I've got nothing against them. There are just certain genres I'm less interested in reading / critiquing. But I'll certainly get to reviewing this for you! I have a bit of a hectic weekend, so it may take me a day or two, but I look forward to it!

[The7thKira]

This is a poem I wrote for my girlfriend, and also for a novel i'm writing. My critique will be following this.

We Burn Romantic
I walk to reality following my heels.
By my side, your steps sing a melody,
A love song
Reaping the truth out of these lies
Ravaging the grounds of your lives

You accept like no ghost can understand.
You caress like no hoax can comfort.
My faith is in you.

Put out the fire that burns me.
Put out that fire in your head.
Love me and my heresy.
What was not was always dead.

You walk with nobility, following your fear.
In your mind, your steps sing an elegy,
but I’m forever here.
I’m singing right before your eyes.
Singing to help you realize,
that my faith is in you.

Will you hold my hand,
when eternally damned?
We'll live forever,
till scythe sever,
so have no fear.
Wake up, my dear.
Extinguish the fire,
lit by the liars.

We’re the heretics,
in a world so sick.
While they’re frantic,
we burn romantic.

[The7thKira]

ScrewLogicIAmATurtle

White Room

I hear voices in my head.
Maybe they're speaking to me from the dead.
Blood drips from the ceiling.
Can't you tell I'm a psycho with no feeling?

Chains bind me to this white room.
Angrily I ponder your sadistic doom.
Am I Alive, or am I dead?
Insanity was what I was lead.

I don't usually criticize poetry, and it's mainly because I feel that people are most free with their emotions when writing poetry, therefore I dislike limiting their creative juices with rules and external opinions. Although, since this is part of the contest, I really have not much of a choice.

First of all, the subject of your poem is so overly-used. People are always writing about tormented madmen, but that's not your fault. It's beyond anyone's control that people think of this idea way too often. Secondly, your poem's rhythm feels a bit awkward for me. The number of syllables you put in a line feel so dissonant to the rest. And lastly, your last line seems to be grammatically wrong, if I'm not mistaken. I don't believe you could be led insanity, but only led to insanity, and if the latter were the case, then I suppose your last line should have "to" at the end of it. Oh, and of course, I'm sure you spelled "led" wrong -- unless of course if you had actually intended the word, 'lead', to stay in its present tense, although I highly doubt that.

Good day, friend.

[Spazmatik Muffinz]

stay alive
you just need to strive
sadness wells inside my tears
alas come out my fears
stay with me
love me
take me
hate me
hurt me
loooove me!
meant for each other
says your brother
that shot for your head
fall right onto your bed.
you . . are . . dead.

[jumpforjo]

moonbird67

jumpforjo

I absolutely loved this.
The imagery is great, and I think never giving the girl a name sets a certain tone that I can't put a word to to your piece. The only grammatical error I caught was the use of 'passed' instead of passed, but other than that, this was amazing, and very powerful.

Dang it, I caught that on my school's computer, but forgot to transfer it over. Thanks for reading and for the kind words!

Wait...you said "the used of 'passed' instead of passed." I think you meant "past," lol.

lol, you're right xD
I totally failed there, didn't I?

[Crystal the Rebel Mage]

calviness

The Solarised Night

xxcreativedreamerxx

I didn't "complain" about it. I already said that I wasn't sure, and being old fashioned, I just like poems that way. So if you don't mind, don't critique my critiques, just my poem..thank you very much. And there is a thing called "polite critique." Learn it.

EDIT: OH and I just thought I would share this article with you that says that YES, they first lines ARE capitalized :Look under Poetry. AND I know a teacher who taught me that. So if you feel like making someone look stupid, make sure you're actually right first. K? wink

So, I am going to intervene here. As has been seen - there are two different schools of though on Poetic punctuation - especially the capitalization of first letters. Generally we learn that we should capitalize first letters in grammar/high school. There are a lot of good reasons for that - most of them historical. However, since the 1950's, it has become increasingly common for poetry to adhere to Prose-style punctuation rules, or none at all. In fact, online you can easily find arguments for Capitalizing the first letter, and against it. E.G. -Pros & Cons

What does that really mean? You are BOTH right. However, that means that you have to acknowledge the other possibility when critiquing - mention your arguments for or against, but make sure that the author understands that all of that is your opinion.

Seeing as I judge these pieces in the end - you may be curious about my preference for one or the other. I tend to go with the school that having the first letter of a poem capitalized (like simple rhyming schemes) tend to hint at a poetic amateur. HOWEVER - Some of my favorite modern poets capitalize their first letters, (or for that matter, include end of the line rhymes). The difference is the quality. If you are going to capitalize the first letters of your piece - I want that to be part of what you are expressing. (Maybe you are reaching for a historical feel, or commenting on the practice itself.) I will not tell you that you have to express yourself a particular way, but I fully expect you to make informed decisions when you choose to express your thoughts that way.


As to critiquing crits - As the front page says, I am not just judging quality of writing, but quality of critiquing. There is no way to improve your critiquing skills unless someone critiques you on them. I would LOVE it if more of you helped each other to develop their critiques.

That aside, if you felt like Sol was curt or not polite enough, that is a different matter. I would, however, encourage you to express your feeling politely. We all know that the internet makes everything seem a little more curt - if you have been offended, please make sure that you don't offend back. As always, if someone seems to be trolling, please tell ME - don't turn my contest into a pissing contest.

Thank you.

Well I apologize, to you anyway. Sorry, but if someone starts crap with me, I defend myself. So I guess we can both be considered right. I do tend to like more traditional literature styles, as I said before, and I find that it looks neater anyway. It just seems to distracting to me not capitalize all the lines, lol.

[Yutora]

So I can just enter a piece of mine;
I mean, it does not matter how long ago it was written?

[calviness]

Yutora

So I can just enter a piece of mine;
I mean, it does not matter how long ago it was written?

Anything goes! As long as you are willing to take crit's in stride, and work on it, I don't care when you wrote it.

[Yutora]

calviness

Yutora

So I can just enter a piece of mine;
I mean, it does not matter how long ago it was written?

Anything goes! As long as you are willing to take crit's in stride, and work on it, I don't care when you wrote it.

Ah okay, there is a short story I've always wanted Critique on;
so I suppose this would be the perfect opportunity.