Locked but Stocked

I've recently started writing a story. Its slow going, because I keep editing it, but I don't know what I should do with it at the moment. I don't want to continue on yet, until I have the first part done completely (completely meaning, as complete as it can be without the rest of the story attached).

Criticism obviously welcomed.

-Shelley

(1 ~ pick up a pen)

fakepearls

Okay, guys. I really need help with this. It doesn't feel right. This short story will basically decide my grade for my English class this term so PLEASE be brutal. The idea here is to have two of the main characters from Lord of the Flies meet years after their rescue. That is what I did. You don't have to have read the book to understand this, but it might make it easier for those who have. So... pretty please with a mini snickers on top?

(4 ~ pick up a pen)

aquietrefrain

This is a bit long, it's prose. I know that it's not suitable for publication, and that my ideas are half formed, but this is the second step, after all.

(2 ~ pick up a pen)

New writer in group...

creekstersheart

Hello there! I have been looking for a writing community that encourages good feedback and consistent feedback from members. I look forward to reading, writing and commenting here. Thanks for reading and all comments are appreciated. :)

~J

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b_is_for_bekka

Written after 10 days in mexico with my friend, basically an girl with ridiculous amounts of money, has never been told no in her life, concerned only with having fun, and a social conscience the size of a peanut... a sweetheart personally, but very very very different from me. Anyway, any critiques are greatly appreciated.

She comes up for air
to the room from the pool
filled with (precious) tidbits,
the (currency) of the resort;
stories of husbands cheating for five years
and wives with no idea,
who bought land (cheap) in Cuba,
which waiters would (trade) drinks for
kisses. Kisses are (cheap) here.

I try to (steal) minutes
to listen to my hypnosis tapes,
and I sleep curled up
earplugs in.
She can’t sleep without the TV on,
soap operas and (ads) insinuating themselves
into her dreams
my nightmares
Only (500 pesos) apiece
and if you call in the next five minutes
we’ll throw in a second (free).

We sit across the table from each other
in the five star restaurant
talking about the state of the world
and (wholesale) slaughter
and she looks at me through her (expensive) sunglasses
with something like pity
and a sad little half-smile
and says
Well, but that’s not my problem.

(2 ~ pick up a pen)

Report on Children

fairelamour

You have all seen the yards
Piles of stuffed animals
Carved rocking horses, half molten
Crayons. The colors blind you
But no amount of terry-cloth
Can explain our nature

We were wise, always contemplating
Despite our limited years
We knew a dialect of our own
Spoken in scribbles
Slurred voices
No other race could mimic

We knew nothing of betrayal
A sweet, blissful ignorance
The kind that can send us
Into another world without rules
Only lack of pain, because pain
In its deepest degree is a scrape on the knee

We can love a scrap of cloth
An attachment so deep as primal instinct
Flourishing in simple pleasures
Like ice cream, sugar
Natural born gluttons, if gluttony
Didn’t exist.

We are small—some smaller than others
Skin soft from lack of wear
Even through rough bark
Broken sticks. Eyes wide
Sparkling curious fury
Anxious, anticipating

We are copied in molds
Glass and plastic in faux perfection
Wrapped in cellophane
Shipped in bulk
Now broken and melted
Into milk jugs and teacups.

We were the only race who could boast
Untainted kindness, untouched trust
We were pure of prejudice, pure of hate
Sanity in its raw form
The undamaged building blocks
Of all that you know of psychology.

You have wiped us out, with your chemicals
Even freeze-dried embryos couldn’t beat
In your precious sterility, lullabies burn
And we are but a blink of time to the elders
Who remember the maternity ward.

(1 ~ pick up a pen)

Folk audio magazine project!

xangelslavex

I am posting this for a friend, to spread the word.

"the other day i walked the streets of salt lake city at sunset with nothing but a harmonica, a tape recorder and my voice. i wrote three songs spontaneous, everything is there, if i studder or lose my train of thought, random information and observation, the sound of cars passing its all there and raw..so i decided i'm going to record a frequently released audio magazine. Here's the idea: folk music as described above, poetry, stories and a zine with each with the complete written out songs and stories behind them, poems and art of various types. I'll be gathering subscribers soon, so if youre interested email me at sweetsaltrecords@yahoo.com and i'll get the first edition into your hands soon. This project should be unlike any other and who knows how far it will go or where it will evolve. The project is entitled "Go Moan For Man" based off a poem that Jack Kerouac wrote to express what he felt a poet should do for the world as directed by God.
thank you,
tom bennett

ps: if anyone would want to help me get the word out let me know and um... please repost"

(pick up a pen)

bloodyaugust82

Hi everyone,
Well I've been in a lot of different stuff that I won't launch into here. But with the permission of the powers that be...*smiles to Glenn* I would like to come back and comment and work with this group again.....

Dreamer
By Jasmine Johnson

You haven’t left my thoughts,
Not since the last time we talked
Or the first time we met
And come to think about it
I think you were there before that
I’m sure of it
That when I used to dream of love
Your face is the one that appeared
And ever since my perception of time
Wrapped around me
You’ve been there…..
While I may fight it sometimes
And wish that you could be wiped away
You haven’t left my thoughts,
Not since the last time we talked
Or the first time we met
And now I think about it more
Each day steadily moving on
Allowing you to fixate in my life
I may never say it to you
You probably won’t ever see it on my face
But in my eyes you are apart of me
Something I can’t ever deny
Not since the last time we talked
Or the first time we met……

(4 ~ pick up a pen)

"Meeting Place"

irou_2_spill

didn't want to critique without showing anything as well. hope ya'll enjoy

***

Sweetened perfumes raze to the edge where I fall away
into ethered plain of enormity with each hand laying out
a fall of feather grace under me that stem that bud
who lay and drifted here she waited calmly, eyes
darting, they smile each speck they see.

Grace me! Plain to see I'm for you, won't you?
How could I not? A bless you float so clearly.

Deft in motor glide and bank to fall round the emptyless edge
ethers over bud over ethers wisp up calmed air, pulling
pulling, pulling each root hard and hard
a new blind by those far stars cast by
lash each bound'ry with strong sea ropes
and hold each prayer in all in epic verse
Please, I took too long to meet you.

(1 ~ pick up a pen)

Interested in feedback.

hanspfall

Hello all! I have a short story work in progess - well, actually it is a finished story, but the ending, I believe, needs re-worked. It is short, about 1700 words I think, and I thought maybe I would post it here for feedback. I see other short fiction is posted from time to time - along with the poetry - so I hope posting it is not out of bounds of the community.

An excerpt . . .

A lone hanging bulb in my bathroom flared to life with a low and not unpleasing buzz. The naked bulb cast a dim whiteness to the small unadorned area. The change from dark to light must have affected my strained eyes because, when I glanced into the greasy mirror above the sink, I saw an abhorrent wrongness in my reflection. My right eye was bulging hideously out from its socket – like a painted bullseye stretched across a small over inflated balloon. Red streaks around the pupil, like dripping rivers, pulsated with my suddenly rapid heart beat. . .

(pick up a pen)

Sliver

amberleecarter

Hey all,
yes, it's really me! Sorry I've been so absent..
Just trying to wade through the steamy pile of gray matter that seems to be my existence lately.
Actually, things are going well.
Anywho, point is I finally wrote some new poems, this is one of which.
I'm posting it here because the ending got quite the rise out of a few readers on another site, thought I'd see what everyone here thought of it.
If you've ever read my work before, you'll understand where it comes from.
So, without further babbling from me, I present to you:

(4 ~ pick up a pen)

bleedingonempty

Hi all,
I posted a poem or 2 of mine in a_poetry_club and received a few nice comments there, but was told I might receive some more constructive feedback if I posted here. I didn't want to be redundant and post the same things, so here's one I wrote a week or so back. If you hate it feel free to say so, I've gotten pretty much every type of reaction so far so no hurt feelings here. Thanks so much.

Spencer

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Hi all!

b_is_for_bekka

Newbie... would appreciate any critiques you have, I just started writing again after a several-year hiatus. Thanks!

(3 ~ pick up a pen)