Your writing

Great song 6SF

-The sands of naught six feet below
From where we came to there we go
In deeper graves the crosses rot
While the new dead arrives in woe
...this part is amazing to me...keep writing, you're really good at it
 
This is a review I did of the latest release from Amorphis :) Please, tear this apart, I want to refine my reviewing skills




Amorphis- Eclipse
Nuclear Blast- 2006

Veterans Amorphis are at it again, with their remarkable follow up to Far From the Sun: Eclipse. Plagued by many unfortunate events that eventually led to the departure of their original front man Pasi Koskinen, they have trudged on, completing the difficult task of finding a new vocalist. Tomi Joutsen, the newest addition to Amorphis brings incredible charisma to the record. Personally I think he fits the job perfectly, and old Amorphis fans will not be disappointed by his performance.


Having not heard any bootlegs of Tomi, I did not know what to expect when I thrust the CD into the stereo. I was greeted by unique keyboard tones, dazzling guitar melodies, and a perfect combination of baritone growls and clean vocals. It was a pleasant experience, including certain moments of complete bliss as the group plunged into epic choruses and stepped back to allow for an occasional atmospheric solo. Sometimes, however, I wish the band would stray from the generic formula of verse to chorus, just to mix things up.


With influences ranging from death metal to progressive rock, this album is sure to make many happy. Highlights include Perkele, The Smoke and Brother Moon, although all tracks hold a specific meaning and mood. If you like to hear pretty melodies, impressive vocals, an occasional growl or two and the icing of keyboards, this is the album for you.

8.5/10
 
Well, I read what you said about my work, I've read oyur work and I must say, compared to 6SF or Undo, I kind of feel like a low-caliber pen. Anyways, in the future, I'll try and avoid those long words...

Here's another one I wrote while I was watching "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly". it kind of influenced the imagery....


The Duel

Two men that face each other’s fears
Two barrels that wait for the clash

A duel in simple terms and rising sun
One that will never care to understand
One that’s aware of the ignorance

A land too small for both to share
We all know this western fairytale

The truth is now at stake
The air is dense with misprize
They know how it will end
Two men are juggling death

The first is filled with faith
Swayed by the master’s love
Strong of a million allies

The second doesn’t know guilt
Led by his own conceptions
Strong of a million brothers

Eyes bleeding away the hate
Hands rushing toward the belt
Lifting high the iron cloak of death

The wingless vespas now in flight
Across the paces
Dividing existence

Now two men are falling
Bleeding in disbelief
Their corpses will ever be
Buried by the winds​
 
Ok, this is something I wrote last year, actually the one before last thing Ive written:

Dissolving Destiny

The images of footsteps in the sand
Milliontimes envisaged
Like a long ago expired antibiotic
On its way from poison to venom
A bodybag of connotations
A skeleton-ground of images
Haunting our minds only in moments
Of utter frustration
Otherwise making us smile
The know-it-all smiles
Of those who cannot be surprised

All the strings that have tied us
To the past and future for so long
Are vanishing
Never seen yet felt
But now gradually disappearing
Every moment becomes a landscape
Comes out of nowhere and to nowhere returns
Eleatic arrows in the apeiron brew
Slowly we approach the twilight of thought
And the myths grow stronger everyday
Never having left us alone


And this is the last one, I wrote it yesterday. I usually read T.S. in April, so...

The Last Moment

April is the cruelest month
The tubes are fed
With filth of the slowly deceased
Dead season
It runs out
Of all the cavities
Through the pores it sweats
Away
Leaving
All clean and ready
The corpse that was planted
In the garden of my brain
Has begun to sprout
It will bloom this year
The fates will stink again
My eyes will see again
My senses will perceive again
My mind will be focused again
My blood will reach all the meandres
Of everywhere
Again

I shall set my lands in order
 
Sweet poetry, mardy. I mean it. This stuff is excellent, the flow is good and the imagery, oh the imagery *holds head back and drools à la Homer Simpson*
 
Rampy: Your writing skills never cease to impress me.

A land too small for both to share
We all know this western fairytale

I love this part. So true.

Two men are juggling death
What a beautiful way to put it. :)

The first is filled with faith
Swayed by the master’s love
Strong of a million allies
The second doesn’t know guilt
Led by his own conceptions
Strong of a million brothers

I love that description of the two men. The parallelism, the metaphors which aren't really that metaphoric...

The end is just a tad clichéd, imo (both of them dying instead of only one), but it's alright because the rest of it is really good. Not my favorite poem by you by any chance, but still good.

I like your new sig, btw.
 
Mardy: I'm happy to see another great writer on the forum. :)

On Dissolving destiny:

The title is beautiful beyond words. I can't really say anything because it's one of the best titles i have ever seen.

The images of footsteps in the sand
Milliontimes envisaged

I love that beginning. The imagery is awesome, and i love the kind of melancholically post-apocalyptic atmosphere you gave it.

After that i kind of got lost (i especially didn't understand the part about poison and venom), but the second stanza is much clearer to me. Even though i wot not what 'apeiron' means, the use of words is brilliant.

And the myths grow stronger everyday
Never having left us alone

That is beautiful, and it's a good ending, i think, leaving us thinking about it. Again, social critique, but good one. And great use of words.

On The last moment:

April is the cruelest month
Well, :\

The tubes are fed
With filth of the slowly deceased
Dead season

I like this. Great imagery, once more (it makes me think of rotting corpses of old people in an asylum, go figure...). I always liked the description "the slowly deceased" for dying people in hospitals with tubes all over. And april does seem like a dead month (more dead than others, anyway) in this light.

I'm not quite fond of the mono-verbal verses in this case, and the final verse is disorienting (but pretty, in a way) to me.

The corpse that was planted
In the garden of my brain
Has begun to sprout
It will bloom this year
The fates will stink again
My eyes will see again
My senses will perceive again
My mind will be focused again

That begins to sound like a horrible doom and ends up sounding like something good, like you're growing more powerful (or awakening again, or something). Interesting concept, and i like the structure (one concept/idea/image per verse).
 
UndoControl said:
Mardy: I'm happy to see another great writer on the forum. :)

Thanks heaps Undo and 6, if you want, check out the creativity and art threads that are buried somewhere on page 985959652. Id posted some stuff there before you came to this forum. Hope you like that, too.

On Dissolving destiny:

The title is beautiful beyond words. I can't really say anything because it's one of the best titles i have ever seen.

I am very pleased you like it so much, because that was actually exactly the feeling I wanted to evoke, like, man, what a great title. Its connection to the content of the poem is actually minor, its more of an attention grabber (and a good one it seems)

The images of footsteps in the sand
Milliontimes envisaged

I love that beginning. The imagery is awesome, and i love the kind of melancholically post-apocalyptic atmosphere you gave it.

Again, bingo. Exactly the atmosphere I wanted you to feel. Like nothing matters anymore and yet it does somehow.

After that i kind of got lost (i especially didn't understand the part about poison and venom), but the second stanza is much clearer to me. Even though i wot not what 'apeiron' means, the use of words is brilliant.

The image of antibiotic on its way from poison to venom is an attempt (maybe a tad confusing) to describe the idea of the introducing image of footsteps in the sand (a cliched representation of destiny, as it is confirmed in the second line) - that its helped a lot in the past (yet still being an ANTIbiotic, thus poison), but now its beginning to dissolve, to fade, to rot actually (so its becoming venomous).

Im sure 6 knows who the Eleats were and what apeiron is. Loosing the idea of destiny, past, future, the glorification of the present moment are like those arrows of Zeno, succession of still moments - and the apeiron (brew) comes from Anaximader. It means "the indefinite" (ask Sirenoulitta :)) and Anaximander saw it as the arche, the basic principle of everything (all comes from it and to it returns). The whole idea was that despite the semi-buddhist approach of our civilisation to the present, the result is not a quiet contemplation, but boredom and frustration - alienation (if you want ;)).

And the myths grow stronger everyday
Never having left us alone

That is beautiful, and it's a good ending, i think, leaving us thinking about it. Again, social critique, but good one. And great use of words.

Thanks.

On The last moment:

April is the cruelest month
Well, :\

Well, thats the first line from Wasteland, from T.S.Eliot, I said I always read him in April. ;)

The tubes are fed
With filth of the slowly deceased
Dead season

I like this. Great imagery, once more (it makes me think of rotting corpses of old people in an asylum, go figure...). I always liked the description "the slowly deceased" for dying people in hospitals with tubes all over. And april does seem like a dead month (more dead than others, anyway) in this light.

I'm not quite fond of the mono-verbal verses in this case, and the final verse is disorienting (but pretty, in a way) to me.

Yeah, you are a very good reader, honest, mate. Again you hit the nail totally. Really, I was thinking if I should make it one line or split it - I went for the latter, simply because it gives the lines a new perspective (its different when you say "with filth of the slowly deceased" than "with filth of the slowly deceased dead season") - namely, that April is really cruel iin its ambiguity - it should purify you of all the winter crap in your body, as well as in your mind, but it should also give you new energy, but where from? So its like with plants, getting energy from the deceased, hehe. Thats why I love Necrophagist so much. :lol:

The corpse that was planted
In the garden of my brain
Has begun to sprout
It will bloom this year
The fates will stink again
My eyes will see again
My senses will perceive again
My mind will be focused again

The corpse is another quote from T.S., so dont worry. :) Its only a continuation of the necrophagy from the previous lines.

That begins to sound like a horrible doom and ends up sounding like something good, like you're growing more powerful (or awakening again, or something).

Well, yes and no, thats the whole point. Of course, there is a reason for the whole thing being called The Last Moment, cause the whole optimism is kinda weird in contrast with all that preceding manure, dont you think? :)
 
marduk1507 said:
Thanks heaps Undo and 6, if you want, check out the creativity and art threads that are buried somewhere on page 985959652. Id posted some stuff there before you came to this forum. Hope you like that, too.
http://www.ultimatemetal.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?f=61&order=desc&page=985959652 < Nope, no creativity or art threads there. ;)

Nah, i might look for them and into them later. I'm currently trying to read a site with 58407386784807 links to Mars stuff.

marduk1507 said:
I am very pleased you like it so much, because that was actually exactly the feeling I wanted to evoke, like, man, what a great title. Its connection to the content of the poem is actually minor, its more of an attention grabber (and a good one it seems)
marduk1507 said:
Again, bingo. Exactly the atmosphere I wanted you to feel. Like nothing matters anymore and yet it does somehow.
marduk1507 said:
Yeah, you are a very good reader, honest, mate. Again you hit the nail totally. Really, I was thinking if I should make it one line or split it - I went for the latter, simply because it gives the lines a new perspective (its different when you say "with filth of the slowly deceased" than "with filth of the slowly deceased dead season") - namely, that April is really cruel iin its ambiguity - it should purify you of all the winter crap in your body, as well as in your mind, but it should also give you new energy, but where from? So its like with plants, getting energy from the deceased, hehe. Thats why I love Necrophagist so much. :lol:
*feels like he actually got the message* :)

marduk1507 said:
The image of antibiotic on its way from poison to venom is an attempt (maybe a tad confusing) to describe the idea of the introducing image of footsteps in the sand (a cliched representation of destiny, as it is confirmed in the second line) - that its helped a lot in the past (yet still being an ANTIbiotic, thus poison), but now its beginning to dissolve, to fade, to rot actually (so its becoming venomous).
Hmm, thanks for the explanation. It's clearer now, but i suppose i'll have to think about it for another while to really get the whole meaning and everything surrounding it.

marduk1507 said:
Im sure 6 knows who the Eleats were and what apeiron is. Loosing the idea of destiny, past, future, the glorification of the present moment are like those arrows of Zeno, succession of still moments - and the apeiron (brew) comes from Anaximader. It means "the indefinite" (ask Sirenoulitta :)) and Anaximander saw it as the arche, the basic principle of everything (all comes from it and to it returns). The whole idea was that despite the semi-buddhist approach of our civilisation to the present, the result is not a quiet contemplation, but boredom and frustration - alienation (if you want ;)).
I didn't really understand shit, but that's just due to my unfamiliarity with so many philosophers and philosophies.

marduk1507 said:
Well, thats the first line from Wasteland, from T.S.Eliot, I said I always read him in April. ;)
marduk1507 said:
The corpse is another quote from T.S., so dont worry. :) Its only a continuation of the necrophagy from the previous lines.
Would it have helped if i had read some T. S. before reading your poems?

marduk1507 said:
Well, yes and no, thats the whole point. Of course, there is a reason for the whole thing being called The Last Moment, cause the whole optimism is kinda weird in contrast with all that preceding manure, dont you think? :)
Aye, i do think. Like i said, interesting concept. Original. :)
 
Well I don't know if I'm overflowing this thread but I really like to get some criticism on my work and I don't know many writers around my place. Anyways, I wanted to post these last two poems/songs and after that, I'll give you guys a break.

Wicked Plague
One is to fall before the eyes – Death cast within in warlike colors
Returning to the soil in dripping blood - Yet your soul forbids to turn away
This grisly portrait on black landscapes – Defiles the mind undyingly
The last barricade breaks – Suffer the wicked plague

Let the light be dead
And let darkness ensnare
The poised substance of everlost

Madness brought in swift anger
Reason struck by lightning fears
Forever lost in delusion’s Hall
Greater calling of a twisted eye

Stable chaos of everlasting dark
Facing a glass in empty gaze
Never will the illusion end
Nor will the sun die before time

No power left to guide the mind
No difference between stone and sky
Joining hands in a distraught prayer
To touch the tongue of Ignis Fatuus

A blackened song to flee the storm
Disharmonic waves resonate
Within the cage of memory
Hands in the forged shackles of lies

In the labyrinth of distorsions
No treasure can be found
No other jewel than death itself

Only time…

Chronos
Restage the partition of ideas
Erase what’s done and draw anew
The chronicles to be written again
Hand in the sum of one and a few
Abstract thoughts to scale your soul

Walk back into the footsteps
With no one to ring the bell of the past
The archives have been set aflame
Neo-reader scrolling through facts
Modern age of what’s been done before

Our faces lost within their gaze
A century that echoes through the millenias
We are cursed to question once more
The ideas and the concepts that never change

Tomorrow be interlaced within
The bleeding weaves of Yesterday
And Now is but a spark and a flame
That never lits, that never dies

Wandering through our minds
In mere attempts to perceive
The essence of our own creation

We live at the pace of Time
Pretending it’s been here before us
Yet we all know so well
The hours will never come to pass
Our grotesque is forever watched
By the shadow of immortality
 
RampageSword said:
Restage the partition of ideas
Erase what’s done and draw anew
The chronicles to be written again
Hand in the sum of one and a few

Tomorrow be interlaced within
The bleeding weaves of Yesterday
And Now is but a spark and a flame
That never lits, that never dies

Wicked Plague is very good as a whole (although the title is a bit weird, I mean, how can a plague be wicked, plague is the fucking pestilence, its the very scythe of Death), and from Chronos I like the two above, you should build on them. The rest needs that kind of forging which is performed in those two stanzas.
 
marduk1507 said:


Wicked Plague is very good as a whole (although the title is a bit weird, I mean, how can a plague be wicked, plague is the fucking pestilence, its the very scythe of Death), and from Chronos I like the two above, you should build on them. The rest needs that kind of forging which is performed in those two stanzas.

Thanks, and I agree with you, I rarely write something down that I feel is good from start to end. The problem is, I have diffculty working on a poem once it's finished. I rarely take the time to rewrite or improve it and I guess I should....

Oh, and a plague can be wicked if I want it to be. ;)
 
Oh, for a more serious answer to wicked plague, I just thought that the plague, is, you know, mostly a physical disease that can be cured and sinced I was referring to psychological madness in my poem, I figured I'd call it wicked plague. However I do realize now it sounds a bit...obnoxious.
 
The Wrong Way

The blood is everywhere
Silent in the eye of the noise
It makes and unmakes
The very enemy to reason
It cries out
In slow motion it bursts
From the lips of my heart
Like spit in crimson foam
Trickles from my nose
With every spasm
With every tear a scream
There is no denying the blood
The obvious child
Of the desire so transparent
It hardly exists