Take a look.

[Malak al-Maut]

So... I got bored with playing around elsewhere, and I want to put something up just for the hell of it. Critiques appreciated.

Everwhite

Come on, come along down
To the everwhite side of town, to the bright blinding everwhite
Where everyone's happy and no one's on the streets in rags
Where the trees are green and flowering, where the birds peck at the ground looking for worms.

Bright blinding everwhite shining side of town. Come on,
Come along down to the everwhite, where everything's right but everything's right
Everwhite residents strut around in their Sunday clothes.
Everwhite houses on everwhite streets lean up, shining blinding bright. So come on,

Come along down to the everwhite, where everything's right and everything's wrong
To the everwhite side of town, bright and blinding and (falling) rising up in the world.
Everwhite residents walk around in funeral clothes. The trees are green and the birds peck at the ground, looking for worms.
Everwhite houses with yawning windows stare at each other.

You wonder what they think, what's inside.
What goes on.

The trees turn red (rust-red) in the autumn, the birds peck at each other.
Angry beaks in an everwhite place. Rushing red on an everwhite road.
Unnatural. Uncanny. Unusual. Always that color, everwhite.
You wonder what they think, what's inside, what goes on.

You wonder if they can see in all the bright, blinding everwhite.
Do they read? Watch TV? Do they play? Work? Make love?
Or are they just blinded and entranced by everwhite?
No one's in the streets in rags. It's perfect, isn't it? Everyone's happy.

So come along! Come on down! We promise we won't bite.
This is the everwhite side of town, bright blinding everwhite
Sheltered and safe and happy and perfect.
Unnatural. Uncanny. Unusual.
Unreal.

You wonder if they can see what's around them.
You wonder if they can see past the everwhite.

The trees turn red (red like rust, red like dried blood) in the autumn.
The birds peck at each other. Angry beaks in an everwhite place.
Terrified minds behind everwhite smiles.
Purpose blacker than sin in this everwhite side of town.
 

[Mosqui]

That was fantastic. Really, the only thing I can think of to critique is your very last verse, and it's a minor thing. You say:

(red like rust, red like dried blood)

I think it would be a little better just leaving the blood as an implication, which is what you do with this line:

Angry beaks in an everwhite place. Rushing red on an everwhite road.

So really, I would just suggest taking out the "red like dried blood." Great work, hope to see more.  

[Malak al-Maut]

Thanks, Mosqui. I'll be sure to think up some more sometime in the near future.  

[Malak al-Maut]

Graves

One for a kid a few years back, two for his dad and mom.
Three for the friends he lost that day, and four for that time long gone.

Five for his old home, burned to the roots, six for the memories dear.
Seven for the others stolen by ash, and eight for young innocence clear.

Nine for the family you tore apart, ten for the blood-strewn earth.
Eleven for the names forgotten by God, and the last... for vengeance.  

[Mosqui]

Another great one sir. I wish that I had your level of creativity. I can never make my rhyming poems come out right, so I have to do them free-verse.  

[Malak al-Maut]

Beware, young folk, as you pass by.
As you are now, so once was I.

Oh, man. I haven't put anything up in weeks...

I'll think up something before the end of this one, I guarantee.

As I am now, you too shall be.
So, prepare for death, and follow me.

 

[Kali Eyad]

Graves is very good. It leaves a of sorrowful image, where you don't know exactly what happened just that it was devastating.

The everwhite one had great lines, but I'm a stickler for keeping everything in measure and maintaining areas where it looks like there's meant to be symmetry or repetition.

I would suggest going back and taking a look the line breaks. Some of the lines get really long compared to others, such as the last line in stanza one and the third line in stanza three. When the lines get too long it can make the flow a bit awkward.

"Come on, come along down" seems like it would be best placed as the starting line of each stanza it is in. That would mean the first line of stanza two would either be moved up as the last of one or a stand alone line. Then the third stanza would have "So come on" moved down from the end of the second stanza, and "To the everwhite..." would start the second line. (This could just be me. I like having patterns when I write, and finding patterns in others' pieces.)

I agree with Mosqui that "red like rust, red like dried blood" could be changed. However, I think just saying "blood red" to add a more dramatic image to the end instead of repeating "rust red"  

[Malak al-Maut]

A Sound of Time

Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Listen to the ticking of the
Clock, click, tock, tick,
Gear are spinning, time is winning

Gaining on our steps, tock.
Running every race against the
Clock, tick, tock, click
Machinations, great creations!

Measuring our moments, click.
Telling each of us when we are
Done, click, clock, tick
Drawing lines and writing times and

Tock, tick, tock, tick
Listen for the thunder of the
Drum, bom, bom, bom,
Marching forward, lockstep with the

Clock, tick, tock, tick,
'Bout face, forward march!
Boom, bom, click, tock,
Stop.  

[Malak al-Maut]

Beware, young folk, as you pass by.
As you are now, so once was I.

Hey, here's a departure from my usual material. I had a sad little tune that made itself up in my head, so I set some words to it. See if you can find that tune in here, eh?

As I am now, you too shall be.
So, prepare for death, and follow me.

Last Night

So... when's the last time you saw me? Was it...
... When I was hanging' round, just outside your door?

When's the last time you talked to me? Was it...
... Late last night, or the night before?

And when's the last time I felt you? Without...
... Without a single tear running' down your cheek?

When's the last time you were happy? Don't...
... Don't be so sad, I'm here, and I'll set you free.

You could've just called me, no one else would've known.
You should've sent a letter to my little home.
And you know, I can't blame you, now can I?

You could've been stronger, you didn't have to let go.
If I knew you were aching', you wouldn't have been alone.
And you know, I can't blame you... now, can I?

So... when's the last time we kissed? How many...
... So very many weeks that it's been, now?

And when's the last time I whispered in your ear, that I loved you.
Was I too far away for too long, now?

You could've just told me that you wanted to walk away.
You could've just said, "I don't need you, so go away."
And you know, I can't blame you, if I were you I might have done the same.

And you could've just told me the news then and there.
But you wanted to hide it, never wanted me to share.
And you know, I can't blame you. If I were you, I might have done the same.

So... when's the last time you saw me? Was it...
... I was hanging' round, outside your door?

When's the last time you talked to me? Was it...
... Late last night, or the night before?