Alessander's profile

Alessander avatar
AGE: 32
LOC: Pasadena, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: July 12

My other profile made me sound like a prudish dick, so let me start again. My name is Alessander, and I’m 28 y/o. I mainly write poetry, though from time to time, I’ll dabble in other forms. I have too many influences to name, but here are a few major ones: Keats, Yeats, Frost, Stevens, Dante, Bukowski, Larkin. I have a few tips for “beginning writers” that may help, as they helped me.    

General Tips For Novice Writers. Golden Rule: SHOW DON’T TELL

1) Most teenagers, or early twenties artists are very self-centered. So as an exercise, try writing a poem without the first person “I.”

2) Most greenhorns think they can “express” themselves by using enough adjectives and adverbs, so my advice – use them minimally – I would …

(more)

Item Stats
Reviewer Stats
Items
Version 2
1 Review   0 Comments
Cracking some eggs this morning, I Find an odd sort of solace here. Between mopped tiles and windexed glass, I feel a tranquil atmosphere. A sense that kitchen knives and spoons Are where they're meant to be, while I Go fumbling through the shelves and drawers Before all waken to their chores. Before soft light can harden like These eggs upon the frying pan. To think, that bodies strive and fret While others slumber without plan, Either in a bed or coffin, Merely dreaming or being dreamt o...
Ratings & Rankings
 Plus-button Clarity
Version 1
1 Review   0 Comments
A Stranger's Kitchen Cracking some eggs this morning, I Find an odd sort of solace here. Between mopped tiles and windexed glass, I feel a tranquil atmosphere. A sense that kitchen knives and spoons Are where they're meant to be, while I Go fumbling through the shelves and drawers Before all waken to their chores. Before soft light can harden like These eggs upon the frying pan. To think, that bodies strive and fret While others slumber without plan, Either in a bed or coffin, Merely dre...
Ratings & Rankings
 Plus-button Clarity
Version 1
25 Reviews   13 Comments
I sit here. The granite finally feels colder than hot. The grass is cool, almost damp. Dark green, interspersed with some yellow deadening, twigs, clovers, rough patches. Not necessarily barefoot grass, not idealistic in any sense. But it seems to lend crispness to the air; it seems to lower the atmosphere a degree or two, darken the very trees and stones existing in its verdure. Naturally, evening is descending. The sun drops behind the distant building, and its aura blanches the roof. It’s ...
Ratings & Rankings
Novel Treatments / and then...night changed
Version 1
19 Reviews   13 Comments
Something in him changed; he was sad beyond movement or tears. It was as if he was remorseful for a past life of order, cruelty, and fiery retribution…of cold calculation and naked ambition. He was sobered into his body, his mind, his heart. It was as if his whole body had just shuddered into existence. And every memory rose up entirely at once, like a monstrous tsunami washing over all his previous dreams, fantasies, wishes, desires; it was like an epiphany unaccompanied by briskness, a tran...
Ratings & Rankings
Poetry / Rhapsody in Red
Version 1
4 Reviews   2 Comments
It’s like my passion has liquefied every mineral in my very being. Even the harshest, toughest, darkest element deposited in my body has melted in the relentless pressure, heat, and unending movement of this molten lava: it dips, retracts, expands, contracts, swirls, gyrates and leaps in violent erratic motion. I am poured whole into her, she into me… a perpetual dance of fire through icy darkness.
Ratings & Rankings
Reviews
Novel Treatments / The End Times- Prolouge
I never quite know how to do this effieciently on-line...on paper you can just see my marks and commments, but here - well? I'll try chronologically, then maybe an overview? I'm not sure what specific concerns you had, so that's the best I got. You do a really good job of using details in order to convey the moment and characters, and as such I would like to see the dialogue and/or acts do more of the work than the narration. For example, at the beginning you state that "she felt the touch of...
This is very good. I haven't reviewed a work on this site for a long time, so that should tell you something that I'm here. Prose? Well, that is always a subject for debate. Baudelaire wrote many poems in paragraph form, and no one except hardcore "formalist" will deny it' poetry, so you don't have to worry about that. What makes this poem-ish is that you use specifice images + unique rhythm + turn of phrases, metaphors and other poetic rhetorical structure. While great prose utilizes these s...
Your start and finish are strong; I especially like the lines "The verbal blade that cuts and rips/ The serrations of "Sorry" - it came out of left field, so to speak. I suppose I would recommend that instead of saying "down for the count" (which is a boxing figure of speech) - maybe refer to a knife figure of speech? (if there is such a thing!) And I'm not sure why you capitalize "She," unless you are personifing some abstract idea like Summer or something. And in one line you say that it is...
Poetry / Marioneta
I was debating whether to give the review in spanish or english...Well, english it is. I like the poem overall, I think it has very vivd details that mixes well with the more emotional undertones. I do have a few suggestions though. I think you should get rid of your first two lines and start with, "esos ojos contienen algo mas." Also, your fourth stanza is a bit cliche - it doesn't have any real imagery. I think that the one big problem you do have in this poem is that it probably needs MORE...
this has got to be the funniest poem I've read thus far on this site! How can anyone resist the title alone? It's not only funny, but I think it's good social criticism on how advertisements turn EVERYTHING into sex, even shampooing for crying out loud(no pun intended)! Now Carls Jr is doing some weird cow/chicken beastiality thing - where does it end? Anyways...I liked the orgasmic simulation, thought it added to the absurdity, which is why I kind of wanted the poem to end on that note, or s...