All Exquisite Images

[DeadReligion]

Oi. This is another old piece of mine I was lookin' at recently. Pay attention to the ...'s.

All Exquisite Images

The hopeful know, while the naïve stay ignorant and devout.
All exquisite images, pervade hopeful minds; if only…
Fragmented speech, the attempted stringing of a saying on a placard.
Contention between blades of grass, green blood sheds.
Pure epitome of putrid hate; microcosmic and impure.

Heated battlefields cover every inch.
Dystopia is no longer imaginary, only the cause of the hate is.
Omnicompetence falls from the sky, in bloodied pieces.
Multi-organism conflicts; the feared anarchy.

Tree branches swish every which way. But there is no wind on the prowl.
Bark falls and sap drips like blood from lips.
Atypical cracks hollow an inch deep.
A wrongful sway of a branch, and an incision in an open wound ensure victory.
The slow dripping of blood, can instill insanity, to even the sanest.

Bees sting the wings of multi-colored butterflies.
Monarchs slowly fall, fall from the sky.
Why, why must stingers rip such delicate beauty?
Skeletal wings; these poisoned things litter bleeding grass, and sap dampened roots.
And somewhere, someone is snarling, “I want your star, I want your cross.”

A war, a warm winter, keeps the cold,
And the snow, in the sky and it cracks.
Like a glass window, like a television screen.
A chilling serpent, lurks in the dark, with his venomous tongue out.
A face in the sky, resembles Homo Habilis, with a feigned love.

…these were nightmares; ephemeral and mental.
A start won’t stop, compassion is a message we aren’t ready to receive.
The day torture ends, is the day Adam eats Eve.
Obviousness somehow mated obliviousness in a church confessional.

Omnicompetence falls from the sky, in bloodied bits.
For the waiting pious to clean it, in an excusatory fashion.

[TheBigMachine]

Dottage. Ill get to it in new years

[RollerQueen]

Lay off the pseudo-intellectual and over-the-top phrasings, Joycian man. You've gotten better at that, though, and some of that stuff works, like "omnicompetence" and the line "Bees sting the wings of multi-colored butterflies." Keep the piece readably balanced with more stuff like that without going into Dream Theater-like wankery and indulgence. You're getting too carried away with trying to make this sound good, effectively vomiting on a dystopian Ansel Adams photograph.

You're best when you're not forcing details and intricacies that needn't be as esoteric as you make them. Too often, you sway between bludgeoning the topic over the reader's head and then disappearing into the stratosphere with meandering details. A sense of humor, even a slight one, would relieve the tension and the immature angst here. You read. Try some Vonnegut. He's great with the dark comedy and is very accessible.

In summation, I like what you're trying to accomplish, but this is a tarnished sort of silver. If this were a picture, the contrast would be too greatly exaggerated by photoshop. Ewok.