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Hymn I (Lexington)



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Mon Feb 07, 2011 7:55 pm
Lumi says...



I last heard her voice on a shortwave—whirring,
mourning like a wolf in the lunar rain, like the widow
left with a bible of photographs by the fire. She
used to play soft jazz at the cabaret, used to kiss me softer after
a night with the girls. She used to place bets for cigarettes that would
burn night after night, a menorah on her lips, hallelujah.

I last saw her eyes in the November sky, acidic and dazzling
like copper ablaze. Her gaze was set on Lexington at midnight where we
would escape on rainy nights, so I followed her lead, laying down
in the highway median as America rolled by. It was where
I first kissed her, tasted iron and wine, and felt the rush of desperate hands.
From her lips on my chest, she whispered a curse to me—something biblical,
a phrase twisted and gnarled between tongues and teeth and heavy breath.

Say it with me. Before life runs out, say I love you.
Between smoking lips, between hips and burning skin, say it.




Spoiler! :
Obviously not a standalone piece. As you can tell by the title, this is the first part in a series that will probably either take ages to finish or will never be finished. This voice is harder to write for than I imagined, but interpret how you'd like. The end isn't an end; CC is welcome.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.
  





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Mon Feb 07, 2011 8:22 pm
322sivart says...



Wow. This is truly unique and amazing.

She used to place bets for cigarettes that would
burn night after night, a menorah on her lips, hallelujah.


I don't really understand why you wrote "hallelujah" at the end of that sentence. It stumped me.

I last saw her eyes in the November sky, acidic and dazzling
like copper ablaze. Her gaze was set on Lexington at midnight where she
would escape for her liquid rush—that shining quicksilver—so I followed
her lead, laying down in the highway median as America rolled by.


That portion is 100% perfect. Don't change a thing there. It's captivating and that's what really got me.
I would love to see more of this story, keep it up!
Need reviews?
I'd be happy to give them.
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic76104.html
  





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Mon Feb 07, 2011 8:57 pm
Button says...



First of all, love this: great job. I love this piece, though I think that you could probably play with some parts of it, and it make it even better. Somehow.
Now, onto the review, or my semblance of one. I really don't have a TON to say.
My main thing (I didn't realize this until later, so... EDIT) is that your character himself doesn't seem like a very strong person. It isn't so much for the voice that's the problem, but I can't quite find him under all that is the other person you're describing. You have the tone, the story, the imagery, but why is she with him, if we can't find him under all the imagery of her? Maybe it is the voice-- I'm not entirely sure. I think that in one sense, it's perfect. In consistency of tone and imagery, it is simply excellent. But, when considering the actual person shining through to us, it isn't so much. We need to know that character to really know what's going on. Right now, we're lost in her.

Second:
Some of your imagery was kind of vague; I know it probably makes sense to you, but I think that you should make it a little clearer to the reader. There are also pieces of imagery that don't seem to quite fit with the rest of the piece or tone, at least not to me.

would escape for her liquid rush—that shining quicksilver—so I followed

I know it's probably my own stupidity, but I simply didn't understand this. Was it a reference to drugs, to brightness of a personality... what, exactly?

I last heard her voice on a shortwave, whirring,
mourning like the lonely wolf,

I had a problem with this section; first of all, it didn't hit as hard as the rest of the poem. The contrast you had between the radio and then the cry of a wolf kind of bothered me. Those two sounds are about as opposite as you can get. I was thinking, static, far away, mumbles, and then all of a sudden, two words later, a pure call that I feel up-close, sending a chill down my spine. If you're going to combine these two images (which I think you can... they both have an emotional tone tied to them, just not imagery-wise) I would suggest making a transition with description.

like the widow
left with a bible of photographs by the fire.

I loved this specific part, but I felt that it was a little too many biblical references in such a short piece, as you followed it up with another use of the word, but in different context. But, I do want to say, those are probably my two favorite parts, which makes it really hard to give advice on how to change it, because, while the objective part of me wants there to be more variety, they're also really, really excellent.

so I followed
her lead, laying down in the highway median as America rolled by.

During the first read, I decided that I really didn't like this line. I re-read the piece. And then again. And now, I love it. BUT, I think that in order for it to really have a greater effect and to really bloom as it could, you need to add more. Maybe describe the skyline. Headlights. The vacant stares as people faced forward. I dunno-- you can definitely think of something much better, but extend this setting just the tiniest bit more. Usually, I'd commend you for keeping the focus on what's important and the excellent emphasis, but this really doesn't hit as hard as it could.

There are some parts that just might kill me if you kill them. They are ingrained in my brain now, and I love them dearly:
used to kiss me softer after
a night with the girls. She used to place bets for cigarettes that would
burn night after night, a menorah on her lips, hallelujah.

Love the "hallelujah" at the end of this. Well, the entire thing, but the "hallelujah" especially.

I first kissed her, tasted iron and wine,

:D Sorry... Iron and Wine is one of my favorite bands, and I just can't hear that phrase without getting Resurrection Fern or Boy with a Coin stuck in my head. Even aside from personal connections though, excellent line.

from her lips on my chest, she whispered a curse to me—something biblical,
a phrase twisted and gnarled between tongues and teeth and heavy breath.

I adore the imagery of the phrase-- for some reason I almost picture it as an ancient tree, blooming from her mouth, but it feels as it should all the same. Odd way to describe it, but it's perfect. Favorite part.

Last bit: excellent. I do think that this could function as a stand-alone piece. It's certainly strong enough. But, I also think that it could definitely fit into a series, and grow beautifully.
Overall, great piece. There are only a few things that I think should actually be changed (meaning that this was pretty much useless). Looking forward to the next :)

-Coral-
  





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Wed Dec 07, 2011 6:54 pm
murtuza says...



Hey Lumi!

I can definitely imagine seeing this as a series. The thing I found most appealing in this piece was the imagery. It wasn't that in-depth and gave the characters some mystery to them. The imagery wasn't also so weak that my understanding of the situation got lost. The whole thing seems incomplete to me. And that's probably because it's part of a series. Sure, there could be conclusions made from the final lines, but to me there still seemed to be something amiss.

This piece really gives off that vibe of being rhythmic or being in song. Seeing as you've titled it 'Hymn', it's easy to understand why. But the atmosphere I felt while reading it all made me feel like I was watching a movie from the 60's. 'Lexington', 'bets', 'cigarettes' etc., they all make it so cinematic. I like!

All in all, an alright piece with more to be explained still. I await for the further progress in the series. Just remember, the subtlety in the narrator's voice as to the unfolding of the events is what makes it exciting and mysterious. Great job, Lulu. Keep the ink flowing.

Murtuza
:)
It's not about the weight of what's spoken.
It's about being heard.
  








It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.
— Albus Dumbledore