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Literature Text
We clapped our hands in prayer against the ever-coming sin,
stitched the world of truth and lies for all that did us in.
For earth had become a wasteland, a tinder-ridden field
for those that sacrificed themselves to the weapons they did wield.
"At last, our time has come," you said, "at last we can be free."
But in all the time that we had left, there was never a "we."
So why are you and I entangled among the universe's trick?
Wind-chime sounds and pink giggles -- no mirth was born of this.
The last day we touched hands and sang, she whispered in my ear,
"The chords of God are ringing, please tell me that you're near."
It was then that I had realized my dearest was struck blind
for pallid overtook her senses and left with all but mind.
The end of the world wasn't meant for people like you and me.
It took us all our might to shatter fear and command our flee.
But death had plans of puppetry and voodoo dolls were keen
because he'd eaten sugar so bitter that no one else had seen.
stitched the world of truth and lies for all that did us in.
For earth had become a wasteland, a tinder-ridden field
for those that sacrificed themselves to the weapons they did wield.
"At last, our time has come," you said, "at last we can be free."
But in all the time that we had left, there was never a "we."
So why are you and I entangled among the universe's trick?
Wind-chime sounds and pink giggles -- no mirth was born of this.
The last day we touched hands and sang, she whispered in my ear,
"The chords of God are ringing, please tell me that you're near."
It was then that I had realized my dearest was struck blind
for pallid overtook her senses and left with all but mind.
The end of the world wasn't meant for people like you and me.
It took us all our might to shatter fear and command our flee.
But death had plans of puppetry and voodoo dolls were keen
because he'd eaten sugar so bitter that no one else had seen.
Literature
Hope never dies
Hopes beat fast as we look
Onward past the hurt and pain
Pieces of this harsh life stay behind
Efforts to make it better are always worth it
Now we are living in the present
Enjoying life when we can
Venturing forward
Entering a new stage in life
Restarting and leaving the past behind
Death we'll never fear
It's just another adventure
Endless days in this life but
Somehow we'll find a way.
Literature
We Have No Time
All we have
Is a sliver
In it
Lies our
Future
Everything we will
Do in life
We all die before we know it
It's a fact of life
And I am already dying
Everyone is
A slow painful death
One year at a time
One month at a time
One week at a time
One day at a time
One second
Then we flatline
Whisked away
On a metal sheet
Buried in the dirt
To think we were born yesterday
Only to die tomorrow
Literature
A Closet Deep
They're not hiding they were forced
judgement worst
with mumbled retorts
quivering red lips sobbing
muffled rebuttals
It's your fault
for
being
you
that sickness
infecting
you
turn the tumblers of coal
they don't want the world to know
who you are
who you have been with
who you kissed women or men
some are forced in catacombs thick
for their closets are deposits
of
fear and shame
for the hand that closes the door
other hands will open them
for you
ones who warden you
Have already confined themselves to claustrophobic cells.
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And we have here a rhyming poem, which only comes once in a blue moon! 
Honestly, this is really rare for me, and seeing as how this came out of nowhere once again, I'd love your interpretations. The only information I have about where the poem came from is this: I have this vision/dream of two people being pulled apart as the world splits open below them, separating them while they reach out towards each other. I feel as though I've seen it before in some form or another, but I can't put my finger on it... If anyone can help, that'd be great!
Questions for Critique
First impressions?
Favorite part? Least favorite part?
Is the flow decent?
Word choice - yay/nay?
Originality & Technique?
written for the Glory-Be-Project
Started April 16th, 2014
---
© Ashley Nicole Gilbert
Honestly, this is really rare for me, and seeing as how this came out of nowhere once again, I'd love your interpretations. The only information I have about where the poem came from is this: I have this vision/dream of two people being pulled apart as the world splits open below them, separating them while they reach out towards each other. I feel as though I've seen it before in some form or another, but I can't put my finger on it... If anyone can help, that'd be great!
Questions for Critique
First impressions? Favorite part? Least favorite part? Is the flow decent? Word choice - yay/nay? Originality & Technique? written for the Glory-Be-Project
Started April 16th, 2014
---
© Ashley Nicole Gilbert
Comments8
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Overall
Vision Originality
Technique ImpactI've been looking for the perfect poem to critque for an hour now, and finally - here it is! Wanting interpretations, specific questions for critiques, a beautiful poem simply begging to be taken apart... In simpler, shorter words: your poem was great! <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="15" height="15" alt="
" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="366" title=" (Big Grin)"/>First impressions?
Firstly, I didn't know the exact definition of your title, so I did a quick Google definition. I expected a poem ringing with the words of Christian youth, but the second time I read through it, I realized that either I found a different perspective, or it was you who strained into a different side of the religious definition.
Favorite part? Least favorite part?
The third stanza. I had to read it a couple extra times alone to get your concept at first, and it's just beautifully written. Her whispered words with blind eyes just made me stop and wonder... Least favorite? Honesty hurts the teller somethings, I hate the critism part of being constructive. That would be the last two lines. They're wonderfully written, I love the words, the concepts within, but with the rest of the poem, it sort of confused me. I made me feel lost. Perhaps it's a twist, or maybe I'm missing something.
Is the flow decent?
Your understating yourself by asking if it's "decent". No, it's beautiful - it's rhythmic, bouncing words that keep the phrases alive and going. The rhythm kept me reading and wanting to read more when it was over.
Word choice - yay/nay?
I'm inbetween. Bits and pieces would catch my eyes, whilst others I flowed right past. Best example though of your word choice would be those last two lines. "Puppetry" and "voodoo" caught me, and the last line as a whole had me by the very words it read.
Originality & Technique?
First impression thing here a bit, but Armageddon? How many times do people mention it, overexpress it, lose its meaning (now that I know what it is). But, this is perspective, not a guess at its meaning. It stands out in the terms of its religious definition, and even just as a battle as it's known for, the concepts in it feel so different, causing the reader to actually think through it. And technique. It flows so well, but I still captured the rhyme to it, but it didn't beg for my attention. That's a complicated balance, but you reached it quite well.
I truly hope this helps you!! Sometimes I get lost in my own words... <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/a/a…" width="19" height="19" alt="
" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="417" title="Sweating a little..."/>