I wrote some prose poetry, if you're interested in reading it, or calling me an uncultured fag--either works--I'll post it below
The clock stared at me; its pale face scowling in my direction, its arms frozen in time. Moonlight crept beside my curtains and illuminated the side of the room on which the clock hung. The closet door stood open, alert, and waiting. My window called to me, begged for my presence, and to the window I went. My feet felt safe on the soft, yellow carpet beneath my bed, but as I made my way to the window, ominous shapes of irascible creatures leered at me, and distrustful objects and electronics snickered in hushed whispers at their plots.
I ventured towards the window; it seemed as though I’d been roving for an eternity by the time I arrived. The clock continued to stare its evil stare as I stood in front of the window, and its ravenously sour intent spiked the hairs on my neck. Time’s relentless refusal to relinquish its mighty grip on my throat, whereby it strung me up, helplessly frozen in the echoes of the night, made my ears go cold and my lips quiver. I pulled back the curtains, and opened the window, exposing my body to the tempestuous woes of the outside world.
The air rushed onto my face and made my lips dry-up and my eyes flicker. The sky rang its bell, propositioning me. How dare it request me; a travel to the sky would’ve been the end of me, though the bastard believed me too ignorant to know this. I replied back to the heathenous realm, attacked it with the thunderous boom of my voice, which resonated from deep within my chest, “You cannot tempt me with your illustrious blues and your vibrant oranges you vile thing! The sanctity of isolation within my chambers shelters me from your bilious ways, and I know of the manner by which you’ll attempt to seduce me, but my will is strong, so give up now you demon-sky!” I slammed the window shut and sunk back into my room, not bothering to close the curtains.
shameless self bump
>>8015377
Christ you're an uncultured fag
>>8015377
not bad but your language is a little tired. In the first paragraph, irascible doesn't seem to work very well, hushed whispers is a cliche, ominous is also very overused. not really sure what you mean by "distrustful objects": maybe use a different word?
in the second:
"ventured" isn't a very good choice, seems like an unnecessary choice to make it seem more sophisticated, same with "roving," though it could be the way you phrased it.
"ravenously sour" doesn't seem to work
"mighty grip" is a bit melodramatic and antiquated, same with "tempestuous woes."
I could go on, but you get the idea. It seems like you're kind of trying to impersonate a bunch of older writers, but you seem to be impersonating it in a relatively cliche way. Try to work on gaining your own voice and improving your vocabulary and word choice.
>>8015515
This guy is right. Certain phrases - "My feet felt safe" "...though the bastard believed me too ignorant to know this" "...so give up now you demon-sky" - are so juvenile that they make any advanced vocabulary that you use seem like you're grasping at thesauri. But if you can find a happy medium, you'll be alright. Although Poe did it better.
>>8015515
Thank you for the feedback, I'll work on it
>>8015511
i think it's body-ism that you would pet the dog but wouldn't pet the spider
>>8015531
So lean towards more sophisticated language? or more towards simpler language?
>>8015542
lean towards better word choice in general. That could mean simplifying passages that are overly purple/melodramatic/antiquated/try hard to changing your cliche word choice. Try to change your tone and voice to something more unique to you, and think of imagery/descriptions/syntax that hasn't been used before to write your shit.
