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    Evilzadi

    Moving On
    The first thing that strikes me about this poem is the cliche use of nature. I mean, many great poems encorporate the same aspects of nature e.g. sun, ocean - but they do it in a much more original manner. I feel as if I've read similar poems to your many many times. 'Mountains shaking.' I would safely assume you've looked to the greats for inspiration here. Be more original. Think outside the box. However, the unoriginality seems to be the only issue with the poem (it is a BIG issue though). Other than that, it is well put-together, efficiently structured, and offers light pleasure. It's definitely not a literary masterpiece, but it is a pleasant distraction.

    Too Weak
    I love the intentional simplicity within this. Everything is conveyed with little emotion, which, in context, is great for reader interpretation. It's a fine little gem, this poem, in my opinion. The vocabulary is by no means complex, but the syllable structure is immaculate and the semantics behind the poem makes sense and is emotionally tasteful. Again, by no means a literary masterpiece, but it'd be an efficient poem for reciting when trying to win back an ailing ex. Short and sweet.

    Losing Control
    You spelt 'losing' as 'loosing.' I'll let that slide for now... I can tell that the creation of this poem was not planned. It seems raw, and there are many mistakes within it. Aside from the mistakes, also, there are cliche lines and senseless phrases. This must've been one of your earlier works, right? It lacks the life that your other poems have. I'm not a fan of this one. Sorry. I think you need to go over it.
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    Haven't posted much on here since I joined, but just wanted to ask how is everyone doing (in the writing/creative department)? Anyone planning on writing a story/novel this summer? I'm waiting till my exams are over (next week). I went through a couple of pages of this novel I wrote - which feels like ages ago - and it's weird to see what was going through my head writing it. Do any of you ever feel you have to 'lose' yourself in order to write, in order to let the voices of your characters through on page?

    Just nice to hear from other writers Hope I don't sound completely bonkers! Just watched Black Swan (finally) and I'm on a high after all that psychological drama/thriller!
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    Hi, i'm new around these parts and was wondering if there was anything I had to do to join?

    I've a couple of poems that i was hoping to air, to try and motivate me to start writing again.
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    (Original post by CrookedTeeth)
    Hi, i'm new around these parts and was wondering if there was anything I had to do to join?

    I've a couple of poems that i was hoping to air, to try and motivate me to start writing again.
    Welcome! I think all you have to do is go to your personal page and add the Writers society.
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    (Original post by Oliviaonthetrain)
    Welcome! I think all you have to do is go to your personal page and add the Writers society.
    Awesome! Thanks- i'll go and do that now. ^_^
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    (Original post by CrookedTeeth)
    Awesome! Thanks- i'll go and do that now. ^_^
    No problem! Glad to welcome you

    Hope it's okay, guys, if I add a poem on here. I found it on my computer - I must written it months ago and forgot completely about it. It's called New World.


    What is this New World you speak of?
    I sit on modern benches and silver steel,
    Wet, clammy with European rain.
    Sometimes on a train or bus,
    Windows that bring in white light
    Make me think the world I came from was rather old.
    Decades ago, before I was born, they say our world was buried.
    A night, thick in December, they, with hatchet in hand, dug deep
    In dirt, up to elbows, shaking, to bring back their past. Some ritual,
    With movement precise and heads flung back to skies,
    Setting and rising in ancient ways. I occasionally place my ear to the ground
    To hear my past dragging itself back to me
    But there is only a constant rumbling stomach of an ache -
    The tube running through the underground.
    Somewhere, at the intersection at Tavistock Square,
    Ink-stamped and cracking with age,
    The grey pavement acts as a stroll for a blank Epic,
    Somewhere – when my eyes roll back and wonder far
    To shore and sand – a pallid Homer points to decree me forth,
    A ghost, withering me out of columnar Greece and onto islands bro -
    Ken by sea. With a tablet in hand, he handed to me, I took to
    Ocean, then land, then settlement. The words dry up before I can speak
    Or scribe them – islanders look at me like a washed-up bottle,
    An unopened letter. Castaway. Something stranded in my appearance.
    Perhaps it is the heat that makes me imagine such a thing?

    The rain pours, taps me out of this drugged dream.
    In metropolitan streets, those tribal drums still beat
    I realise, I realise, I realise,
    My story begun there and must end here.
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    Wow - where has everyone gone? I'll just assume you're all busy writing
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    Hello

    I suppose I should find/write something to share. But for now, Hello.
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    I would be writing but I have no idea what to write and I keep debating about whether I should write by hand or on computer.

    Should I write by hand or on the computer?
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    (Original post by mmmpie)
    Hello

    I suppose I should find/write something to share. But for now, Hello.
    Hi! Welcome to the Writer's Society!

    What kind of stuff do you write?
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    Hey all, glad to have found this thread.
    Haven't written consistently for a while now. With a couple of months off, I have no excuses now. Looking forward to reading some of your work and getting round to submitting my own.
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    (Original post by Oliviaonthetrain)
    No problem! Glad to welcome you

    Hope it's okay, guys, if I add a poem on here. I found it on my computer - I must written it months ago and forgot completely about it. It's called New World.


    What is this New World you speak of?
    I sit on modern benches and silver steel,
    Wet, clammy with European rain.
    Sometimes on a train or bus,
    Windows that bring in white light
    Make me think the world I came from was rather old.
    Decades ago, before I was born, they say our world was buried.
    A night, thick in December, they, with hatchet in hand, dug deep
    In dirt, up to elbows, shaking, to bring back their past. Some ritual,
    With movement precise and heads flung back to skies,
    Setting and rising in ancient ways. I occasionally place my ear to the ground
    To hear my past dragging itself back to me
    But there is only a constant rumbling stomach of an ache -
    The tube running through the underground.
    Somewhere, at the intersection at Tavistock Square,
    Ink-stamped and cracking with age,
    The grey pavement acts as a stroll for a blank Epic,
    Somewhere – when my eyes roll back and wonder far
    To shore and sand – a pallid Homer points to decree me forth,
    A ghost, withering me out of columnar Greece and onto islands bro -
    Ken by sea. With a tablet in hand, he handed to me, I took to
    Ocean, then land, then settlement. The words dry up before I can speak
    Or scribe them – islanders look at me like a washed-up bottle,
    An unopened letter. Castaway. Something stranded in my appearance.
    Perhaps it is the heat that makes me imagine such a thing?

    The rain pours, taps me out of this drugged dream.
    In metropolitan streets, those tribal drums still beat
    I realise, I realise, I realise,
    My story begun there and must end here.
    Your poem was lovely! I loved the bit about "I occasionally place my ear to the ground
    To hear my past dragging itself back to me"



    I'm writing what looks like it'll turn into a novel atm but i'm too scared to tell anyone i know incase they want to read it :/
    It's set in ancient greece it's very early days atm, does anyone have any ideas what direction i can take it? All i have atm is an opening and that's it lol and i keep writing and i think it'll develop naturally on it's own (even though i keep changing my mind) but i'd still appreciate some ideas if anybody has any?
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    (Original post by paniking_and_not_revising)
    Hi! Welcome to the Writer's Society!

    What kind of stuff do you write?
    I have my long running sci-fi novel (3 years work has got me about 40000 words), and in between times I've been known to try my hand at poetry. Most of it's utter rubbish tbh, but I only write for my own amusement so it doesn't matter
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    (Original post by Ascalide)
    As a writer myself, I'm loving this society. I just thought I'd review the last three poems that are on here.

    Mevidek - Why are we here?
    You've tackled a big issue - the meaning of life. Some of your imagery is extremely compelling, such as the metaphor of war as a liquid. It's like all the tiny particles of hydrogen are now people, and it has much depth to it. Your literary style does vary, and it is somewhat offputting in places - stanza three reflects classical literature, whilst the reference to '**** or harry' in stanza four cheapens the piece. I didn't understand the structure much either, could you explain it? Also, the amount of question marks creates ambiguity. Is the poem a question as a whole, or is the final 'why are we here' conclusive in itself. I think it's a decent poem.
    The poem questions the morality of war, and leaders who send their people to die for an unclear cause. The lines "A promise of Liberty, Honour, Money, A meaning for life explain that so much is promised to these soldiers, but little is given to them. The poem then says "What about **** or Harry, who will never live to wed a wife? which then questions the promises given to the soldiers, as they receive very little compared to what they are promised. I wrote the poem in a few minutes, so tried to portray the message the most. I'll write some more poetry in a bit - thanks for the feedback :yy:
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    My second piece:

    I live in a World
    by mevidek

    I live in a World.

    I live in a world,
    divided by walls.
    I live in a world,
    So large and tall.
    I live in a world,
    So meticulously beautiful, wonderful…

    I live in a world,
    divided by barriers.
    I live in a world,
    So grand and majestic.
    I live in a world,
    So meticulously beautiful, wonderful…

    I live in a world,
    Controlled by fools.
    I live in a world,
    So impressively small.
    I live in a world,
    So meticulously beautiful, wonderful…
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    (Original post by yellowpurpleyellow)
    Your poem was lovely! I loved the bit about "I occasionally place my ear to the ground
    To hear my past dragging itself back to me"



    I'm writing what looks like it'll turn into a novel atm but i'm too scared to tell anyone i know incase they want to read it :/
    It's set in ancient greece it's very early days atm, does anyone have any ideas what direction i can take it? All i have atm is an opening and that's it lol and i keep writing and i think it'll develop naturally on it's own (even though i keep changing my mind) but i'd still appreciate some ideas if anybody has any?
    Heya - thanks for your lovely feedback! This thread's alive again!!! You're novel sounds interesting, by the way. As to what direction it should take, have you thought about characters? Often - I don't know if this is just me - when you start from one character, possibly you're main protagonist, you'll be surprised with what ideas/plots you come up with.

    Ooh, and welcome mmmpie and LeeGend
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    (Original post by Oliviaonthetrain)
    Heya - thanks for your lovely feedback! This thread's alive again!!! You're novel sounds interesting, by the way. As to what direction it should take, have you thought about characters? Often - I don't know if this is just me - when you start from one character, possibly you're main protagonist, you'll be surprised with what ideas/plots you come up with.

    Ooh, and welcome mmmpie and LeeGend
    I've been trying but i can't seem to make her interact with other characters yet, nothing seems right... I must have deleted my work about a hundred times now!!! It seems fine at the time, but then when i re read it the next day i want to delete it and take it in another direction it's getting frustrating I guess i'll keep trying..
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    (Original post by yellowpurpleyellow)
    I've been trying but i can't seem to make her interact with other characters yet, nothing seems right... I must have deleted my work about a hundred times now!!! It seems fine at the time, but then when i re read it the next day i want to delete it and take it in another direction it's getting frustrating I guess i'll keep trying..

    Aww - I know how you feel - it can be frustrating. I wrote the first sentence of a new novel yesterday, and I was so elated that I just wrote something. Five minutes later, I hated what I wrote... Cyclic, isn't it? Never mind - keep trying and before you know it, you'll get inspired again!
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    I should probably tell you all now; you will never ever be totally happy with what you have wrote at any given time, it's artistic self-loathing.
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    . . . . Please rate my poem which I have just written. :-)

    You fill the room, your arse is so large
    your face makes you look like a tard
    but lucky for you, your tits save the day
    and still manage to make my **** hard.
 
 
 
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