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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Mid-Morning in an Empty Flatdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: dancer-of-words
    ASL Info:    21/trans/US
    Elite Ratio:    4.6 - 167/158/74
    Words: 251
    Class/Type: Poetry/Nostalgia
    Total Views: 864
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1572



    Description:
       


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

    dotsMid-Morning in an Empty Flatdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Gold sunlight falls upon the faded couch
    until a shadow, sharp and black, begins
    it cuts across my threadbare, faded dress
    a light pine green, and hemmed with silver pins.

    The golden sunlight melts upon the walls
    and ticks on through the white and empty halls
    Gold glitters in the warm, immobile air
    above the carpet and upon the stair.

    Gold slides down stairs I rode down as a child.
    It makes old songs seem sweet, old mem’ries mild.
    Gold runs through fields I ran when I was young
    and leaves there wildflowers and the sun.

    Now here I am and gold keeps ticking on
    yet leaves behind now neither joy nor song.
    For now I find sweet darkness is respite
    from the abyss, monotonous and white.

    Mid-Morning in a white and empty flat
    I stare at the old chair where once you sat.
    The garden, through the window’s from a dream
    the silence makes the air like heavy cream.

    Yes, gold was here on summer afternoons
    in fireflies, caught by the light of moons
    on backyard wooden tables, in the heat
    when every summer day was long and sweet.

    It covered books like dust upon their shelves
    and made to live there fairy queens and elves.
    It hung about the Christmas tree at night
    and shone through windows with a golden light.

    Now there’s no sound. There’s no one at the door.
    Yes, it was golden here. It is no more.




    Submitted on 2014-07-11 16:52:36     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I wonder if you often get comments which are negative due to your rhyming or other aspects of your poetry which I would view as traditional or following rules or whatever, basically that it doesn't read like free verse.

    Well if so. I would just like to say that it is actually quite difficult to write in form, in any kind of form and I think you are managing to show really good craft in a poem like this. I myself don't often rhyme or aspire to write in perfect stanzas but I certainly admire it when it's done well.

    This poem has some really good imagery and each verse pulls it's weight.

    "Yes, gold was here on summer afternoons
    in fireflies, caught by the light of moons
    on backyard wooden tables, in the heat"

    Notice how I left out that last line of the stanza there? That's because I think at times you may be straining just a touch to get your rhyme in and while none of the lines are bad there is the odd weak part creeping in there. But the apparent simplicity disguises quite a lot of depth in much the same way as you might see in a Christina Rossetti poem. I don't write this kind of poetry but I enjoy reading it and I think people knock thing like rhyme and repetition too quickly.

    Someone might say that you are writing in a romantic fashion or a redundant style when you speak of fairies or elves, but I actually enjoy this stuff, because it is contrasting with the stark title and that starkness creeps in at all points even though the poem is still ornate and beautiful.

    I think you could take three or four stanzas of this poem out by themselves and they would still make a good poem.

    So yeah. Good job keep writing because originality is showing through in your imagery and once that happens the forms and rhymes can be as traditional as you want. It's good writing that matters and people should be able to appreciate the craft that goes into writing a poem like this even if it doesn't come out as perfect as say a Keats or Shelley poem.
    | Posted on 2014-07-13 00:00:00 | by Wolfwatching | [ Reply to This ]
      I loved the story this poem told; however, my hate for repetition makes me wish you hadn't used the word "gold" and "golden" so much. Other than that slight irritant, this was a joy to read. Thank you for sharing. I only hope this isn't a true tale from your actual experiences. Loneliness is one of the worst things in this world. Keep writing :)

    </3 Lisa
    | Posted on 2014-07-12 00:00:00 | by 777sacrites777 | [ Reply to This ]


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