Writingpoetry

[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

dotsdots
nav
  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav



    nav
  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav



    << | >>
    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Season of Contrasts dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: comradenessie
    Elite Ratio:    6.5 - 626/539/110
    Words: 193
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 1242
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1312



    Description:
       Thanks to Alteredlife (Jase) for coming to the restructering, rescue of my poem. The knight as ever.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsSeason of Contrasts dots
    -------------------------------------------


    Season of Contrasts


    Itís that time of year when trees are thick with pink blossom,
    the pavement littered with stubs of cigarettes
    and petals.

    Two old ladies cross
    at traffic lights, walk slow, lean heavily on black sticks:
    their arms linked, heads together in the closeness of mutual support.

    On one side of the road mortar shows chipped on a broken wall
    and dandelions turn from yellow to white
    behind black, metal bars.

    Opposite,
    graffiti stains shutters on derelict shops,
    second-hand clothes hang on racks outside the One-in-Eight,

    and neighboring new built stores stare with blind, white windows
    across the Gloucester Road; nearby,
    the park buds children.

    Their voices
    drown out the birds. 'Heís going to be a spider.'
    'I want to be a dragon.' 'Youíre going to be a robot.'

    Here the traffic is less condensed, and girls swirl past
    on silver scooters.'Whatís that, a ruby?'
    'No, itís an emerald.'

    Mothers
    wheel baby buggies past cracked
    timber benches, and a small boy plays with a wooden train.




    Submitted on 2007-05-03 06:08:44     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      i liked the juxtaposition of the blossoms on the tree with the cigarette stubs and petals, both which are dead or past their peak. i also liked the way that you contrasted the slow movements of the old women to the energy of youth. there was some beautiful imagery.
    - kate :)
    | Posted on 2007-07-14 00:00:00 | by cheshirekate | [ Reply to This ]
      This is a very strong poem. I especially like the use of contrast not only the old/young but also the energy of the children compared with the lethargic slowness of the old.

    yellow to white
    behind black, metal bars.

    The park buds children is a unique line and you have a masterful use of colour. If I was to criticise anything it would be the sibilance in

    Opposite,
    graffiti stains shutters on derelict shops,
    second-hand clothes hang on racks outside the One-in-Eight,

    and neighboring new built stores stare with blind, white windows

    girls swirl past
    on silver scooters

    I know its deliberate, both to slow the pace into a relaxed afternoon and to show your weariness of this age, but I think its a little heavy.

    Peace, love and hugs,
    Sel.

    | Posted on 2007-05-05 00:00:00 | by Speacenik | [ Reply to This ]
      Opposite,
    graffiti stains shutters on derelict shops,
    second-hand clothes hang on racks outside the One-in-Eight,

    and neighboring new built stores stare with blind, white windows
    across the Gloucester Road; nearby,
    the park buds children.

    Their voices
    drown out the birds. 'Heís going to be a spider.'
    'I want to be a dragon.' 'Youíre going to be a robot.'

    Here the traffic is less condensed, and girls swirl past
    on silver scooters.'Whatís that, a ruby?'
    'No, itís an emerald.'

    Mothers
    wheel baby buggies past cracked
    timber benches, and a small boy plays with a wooden train.



    And some of the dreams in this scene have been spent by those who glance backward at better times as they mingle with children who've yet to see the best (or worst) the world has to offer (which may have been your theme/ intention all along). To see beauty / indifference / hope / age /youth equally crushed underfoot like flower petals and cigarette butts, or graffiti and greenery is certainly evidence of a realist who wishes for better things. And to close with a strophe involving mothers and small children is to launch into hope.

    Just my thoughts on the matter, Nessie.
    Take care.
    Bill.
    | Posted on 2007-05-03 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]


    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?



    141829

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


    Google
     


    poetry

    dotsLogindots

    User Name:

    Password:

    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]


    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
    Posted

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]



    FontSize:
    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]
     Poetry