Why can I sleep no more?

[dead man]

don't accuse me.

these walls are fluctuating at night
morning-time they wheeze through respirators for life
deerskin shaved for a kite. windswept meadowy lawn
rearranging basic structure into legible song
demonstrable horror. the last house on the left
finger pluck a vital artery straight out of your chest
break glaciers into angel food. a powdery mess
arrive outside the Grammys in an hour or less
sour or pensive. if you give a mouse an infection
he'll want penicillin with it. don't know what you expected.
we've accomplished retention - ibuprofen, lozenges, breath mints
you hear it echo, in your hallway, for a second. then it vanishes
way beyond your vanity fair, behind the cabinets
banging on the walls to beg for sacrilege. imagine this,
plastic covered canisters. dampened wicks for ammunition
ruby panther amulet. a dying family's last tradition
creaking boards, apparitions. sarsaparilla, bad decisions
crack addiction, television. jacking off to Maggie Simpson
hold your tongue. it's bad for business, keep to yourself
the people you relate to are the people that melt
skin pops like Stouffer's tops. it's radiation that sells
it grows difficult to feel beneath these measles and welts
lead me to Hell. be my guardian. my conduit often
dull my blade post haste. close shave. Wallace and Gromit
distonic, dystopian problem-child roped into promises
living just to voice an opinion i'll later contradict
sometimes it's the opposite and humans are right
you can catch me at the hospital for soup and a sprite
putting Lucy in the skylight suite for 60 a night
daydreaming into darkness to resist the enticement
of recidivistic reprise, i've experienced a minute's escape
caterpillars of strength. i crawled away. the clinic can wait
licking to taste. devoid of any physical traits
still i miss you like a saturday at Michigan Lake
am i liquid or lace? craving a resentful embrace
i've built a mask so fucking intricate it mimics a face





BLACK

[oats]

one thing I like about your writing is that there are many avenues of interpretation, and most are equally justified. That's the mark of a great writer, because it allows us as readers to create alongside you; you create a verse, we create its meaning. that's a special talent.

the drawback is that it takes greater effort to penetrate, and sometimes it can be dizzying to make sense of things, to reconcile the different, distinct images and feels I get from one section to the next. In this verse, for example, from the beginning up until the Maggie Simpson line, I was envisioning someone in a hospital/hospice/maybe even psych ward, but then the next couple lines started talking about "bad for business" and "see me at hospitals," which subverted those initial connections I made. That's not necessarily a bad thing, or something that's a fault of yours, but it is something worth pointing out; sometimes individual pieces can seem incongruous.

also, the dirtbaggery of the character started popping up a little late in the verse - even on re-reads I wasn't catching anything to suggest more than a drug problem, though at the end you get the sexual perversions of jerking off to Maggie simpson and leaving the clinic for a night with a prostitute. I think some early, subtle hints would have paid dividends.

the last line was the ultimate broker for all these ideas, though, and the emotional undertow of it, because who can't relate to that in one way or another? that's probably why you're a fan favorite most sites, because you have intelligent rhymes that are broken down into shared commonalities between pretty much everyone. this is another masterful display, but not without its areas of improvement (at least in my opinion). Favorite lines were the give a mouse an infection, keep to yourself/people that melt, and pretty much the whole last 12 lines were all gems.

[dead man]

You're a good man, Charlie Brown.

[Just Write]

Lmao, why was the jacking off to maggie simpson my favorite line? Anyways smooth crisp shit as always. Whole piece was ill and ppl need to stop sleepin on this.. up

[NYCSPITZ]

y r u tugging it to cartoons b?

[dull boy]

This was good. It's a style that resonates, and you use it well. I miss writing this way, sometimes, because it leaves the reader playing catch up. Like they're always one step behind, but happy to be that close at all. You're always left wanting more. Part of me hates that. Seduction. The lie artists have to tell in order to build intrigue. The dishonesty of my writing has probably been one of my central themes over the last year, and it's born out of growing tired of not being transparent. A large majority of the most lauded writing is probably a romanized version of the artists own perspective. It's beautiful, though, and no one really wants to stare reality in the face.

[dead man]

Are you saying you wish art was more honest or that you find it satisfactory the way it is?

Thanks for the posts everyone..

[Frank]

Salute

If you make it to the finals, you should change your name back to Black.

This shit had some insane imagery, keep it up

[Alfred Kipling]

WACK

[Vulgar]

dead man

Not feeling the title. I'll give my thoughts line by line since I'm not really in an analysis mood right now.

these walls are fluctuating at night
morning-time they wheeze through respirators for life
^second line is very vague. I can't quite imagine that.
deerskin shaved for a kite. windswept meadowy lawn
rearranging basic structure into legible song
demonstrable horror. the last house on the left
finger pluck a vital artery straight out of your chest
^More visceral.
break glaciers into angel food. a powdery mess
arrive outside the Grammys in an hour or less
^Red carpet provoked. The question is...who, or why?
sour or pensive. if you give a mouse an infection
he'll want penicillin with it. don't know what you expected.
we've accomplished retention - ibuprofen, lozenges, breath mints
you hear it echo, in your hallway, for a second. then it vanishes
way beyond your vanity fair, behind the cabinets
^Plastic surgery can prolong beauty only for so long.
banging on the walls to beg for sacrilege. imagine this,
plastic covered canisters. dampened wicks for ammunition
ruby panther amulet. a dying family's last tradition
^'A dying family' is incomplete, IMO. A dying family legacy maybe, but dying family, period? Don't know about the wording. Wish I had a little more info on the ruby panther amulet.
creaking boards, apparitions. sarsaparilla, bad decisions
crack addiction, television. jacking off to Maggie Simpson
lol
hold your tongue. it's bad for business, keep to yourself
the people you relate to are the people that melt
^...under the pressure of stardom?
skin pops like Stouffer's tops. it's radiation that sells
it grows difficult to feel beneath these measles and welts
lead me to Hell. be my guardian. my conduit often
dull my blade post haste. close shave. Wallace and Gromit
^never watched the show/cartoon. I like the rhyme schemes.
distonic, dystopian problem-child roped into promises
^Impressive line.
living just to voice an opinion i'll later contradict
sometimes it's the opposite and humans are right
you can catch me at the hospital for soup and a sprite
putting Lucy in the skylight suite for 60 a night
daydreaming into darkness to resist the enticement
of recidivistic reprise, i've experienced a minute's escape
caterpillars of strength. i crawled away. the clinic can wait
licking to taste. devoid of any physical traits
still i miss you like a saturday at Michigan Lake
am i liquid or lace? craving a resentful embrace
i've built a mask so fucking intricate it mimics a face
^Illuminating last set of lines.

I think I get what you're saying here. There are so many snaking avenues this goes into or can go into...what I take from the general design is that Hollywood personas, the cartoonish people who occupy space on the big screen are mostly artificial or masquerading as others - even when they're not exactly playing a role in a film. They get caught up in drugs, i.e. Philip Seymour Hoffman and Heath Ledger, occasionally overdosing not only on fame, but the substances that turn the seven seasons haywire. IV's replace Oscar nominations. I hope I'm not too off.

An insomniac celebrity goes to drug rehabilitation after a heart attack due to heavy Nickoledeon studios stress. The mention of Sprite also accentuates the artificial flavoring of this character. Soup... and a sprite.

caterpillars of strength. i crawled away.
^lol, this was tight.

This left me with a lot to think about. One of your stronger verses as of late.

Keep doing you