Description: This is not a story, nor is it preaching, nor is it anything really. Just my descriptive writing. If that is what it is, Iím sure you will let me know. Pick at it a bit if you like, I respect honesty and learn from it.
Excuse me, but are you human? -------------------------------------------
His pale, dry, pasty, skin, dulls his soft eyes. The only sense of biological existence about him was the sweaty grease that oozed from his chocked pours. Other than that one would assume he was dead. Not that he was living, he may have been alive but he had no life. He was just a human shell. A shadow of the man he used to be. Iíd feel sorry for him, but his years pass so much slower than mine. He has probably forgotten what he was and what it felt like to do more than exist. I wonder if he remembers being a child. I wonder if he was a child or if he has always been inert. I wonder if a cold breeze ever felt fresh opposed to deathly cold.
As I stand there, philosophizing about what itís like to be him. I wonder if he tryís to understand being me. Not just me, anyone with a life. I wonder if he sees himself living in my comfy shoes. If he did would he live so idly? Would he consume to the degree of greed and ignorance that I do? I wonder how compassionate he would be. Having apparently never been the recipient of generosity. How could he be generous himself?
I throw a pound in his hat and as I do a drunken, senseless, burble of thanks protrudes from his lips. I donít mind giving him money; I wish I could help more. But I havenít the time, right?
hey paul. i like this write... well i deffinalty liked where it started at the begining... the first two lines are excellent, the two most important lines and u have out done them... unfortunatly through doing that the rest of the poem i feel sounds like you couldn't really be bothered anymore... maybe im wrong, i probably am, im not expert, one thing i will say though is evry time i read it i find something new that i didn't think about the first time and it makes for a good poem. Theres some really really great ideas in it and i think you could expand on them. stuff the subject matter for now, im not gonna winge to u about it coz it's your poem and u may choose to write about what ever you want with any ideas you feel you want to express, your write is good. keep writing, ill keep reading, p.s i think i owe it to you after that crappy comment. *thoughts*~jeni
You seem to have such a negative view of beggers, I like to think that at night when they're gathered on park benches and in shop doorways they have a brilliant time discussing literature and philosophy while laughing at all the foolish people who run around in a fevered stress in search of money and a respectability that will one day be made meaningless by an asteriod.
Or maybe I'm just hopelessly optimistic.
Sorry, most of that was irrelevant. There's some really good writing in this, specifically the sentence "I wonder if a cold breeze ever felt fresh opposed to deathly cold" and the whole of the last paragraph.
The rest was ok, far from dreadful but lacking in originality and it didn't really grip me. Descriptions such as "human shell" and "shadow of the man" lack a real punch as they're a bit too predictable. Just simply swapping these phrases for something fresher could really improve the piece.
hmmn...no comments...i'll attempt one...i like this...though...i see the meaning by the title but...i don't like it...lol..its too...hmmn...maybe i shouldn't attempt this on no sleep...nah...i will...the title doesn't seem as well thought out as the write itself...seems to me...or not...the rest of it is very put together and reads nicely...detail is just enough ...not to much to over load it and bore the reader with details we don't need...i'm horrible at this type of writing i'm not able to give as much detail as needed to make it sound good...eh...sorry...i'm going to have to give you a better comment later...purps