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Literature Text
The Museum with no Exit
A disturbed, delightful journey
Down this most endlessly mesmeric of halls
For every person that gives up hope
Another portrait appears on the walls
Ah! Superfluously sickening
Tell, how many times have you been here before?
I swear I’ve seen your likeness on canvas
Do you still wish to finish your grand tour?
All hail! Ergo, envoy from Hell
I’m beginning to suspect you’ve never gone
Away from home, within a picture frame
You are a painting, your cycle is done
A disturbed, delightful journey
Down this most endlessly mesmeric of halls
For every person that gives up hope
Another portrait appears on the walls
Ah! Superfluously sickening
Tell, how many times have you been here before?
I swear I’ve seen your likeness on canvas
Do you still wish to finish your grand tour?
All hail! Ergo, envoy from Hell
I’m beginning to suspect you’ve never gone
Away from home, within a picture frame
You are a painting, your cycle is done
Literature
March of Time
March of Time
Time marches to its own sound.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
In a fraction of a second everything you know and love can be gone.
Life ends and life begins but time pays no mind.
It just keeps marching to its own beat.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
Literature
The Clock
The dials spun counter clockwise back into time on a large old wooden chime clock. It's broad base stands mighty on the floor, made of dark auburn thick heavy oak wood. It towers in an unknown living room. Looking left of the megalithic clock upon the hallway against a beige wall, there is an opening into a kitchen with a dining room table and dining set not unusual in any typical household. In front of the clock is a bland white couch made of coarser thread and to the right of the couch is a living room TV set spanning across a 5 foot wall ending close to where the kitchen begins on the adjacent wall. It is as you would suspect, a typical li
Literature
A Short Story - The Light Beyond the Glass
There is always some sort of light shining beyond the glass.
The Sun, with its warm rays, blinding those who looked at it. Its beams glance off of the paneled glass of the Observatory dome, making it shine with a brilliance which was unfitting for such a dark place.
The moon, a pale reflection of its bright counterpart, is far gentler. Soft blue rays blanket the bare white tiles of the Observatory, making the dome shine with an ethereal brilliance from the inside.
On nights when the moon was pale and the Sun sank below the horizon, Bo could see the stars.
Countless in number, the
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Museums become much more interesting when you think of them as prisons for art and history.
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Comments4
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Charming! Might I just say museums are super cool and anyone who says otherwise can stuff themselves (as opposed to letting the museum doing that for you).
Now into my delivery of poetic justice (ha): my critique is intended as feedback and I will do my utmost to help you! I am still new in the critiquing game so if you wish to dispute something or point out that I am a purple elephant, please feel free to help us both.
Firstly, your concept is refreshing and so is your use of rhyme. Thank you for choosing something unique to write about! Throughout the piece there is a sense of mischievousness created by the meter and the rhyming scheme that couples effectively with the narrative 'down this most endlessly mesmeric of halls/ for every person that gives up hope/ another portrait appears on the walls'
Your rhetoric in the second stanza also made me chuckle, very nice.
Secondly, while the first and second stanzas are great the last one lets the piece down. You begin your first with alliterative juxtaposition which is rather delectable to the scholar of poetry and deceptively simple 'disturbed, delightful journey' and the second with siblance 'superfluously sickening' and the last, it becomes clumsy in comparison to your previous because it is breaking your established convention of alliteration. The image is good 'envoy from hell' and the line after is gold. The last two lines are where the poem needs most work.
In the second last you use enjambment 'never gone/away from home' despite the fact all throughout your poem beforehand, there are pauses between lines and showing this with punctuation would be fine. i.e. 'Ah! Superflously sickening,/ Tell,' and thus when it comes to reading 'never gone/away from' we take a pause and because we stop the rhythm at the end of lines (your rhythm stops at the end of lines in most cases) we get confused when it continues into the next. So punctuate everything that needs it beforehand!
The last should have a conjunctive i.e. 'and' instead of the comma because it hurts your meter, 'You are a painting and your cycles are done' perhaps. Final lines should have more pizaz, you know.
Lastly, I would like to say you did a great job and you have fared vary well under my anal analysis! Thanks <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="15" height="15" alt="" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="366" title=" (Big Grin)"/>