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Literature Text
Under the overcast sky,
I walk through the park
near my house.
Neglected and overgrown,
weeds break through gravel
crunching beneath my feet.
The air sings
a faint squeaking of aged metal;
a rusted roundabout turning in the wind,
pushed by phantom hands.
Iron, smothered
under a weed of oxides
it might crumble with a gentle touch.
It's strange that in so close a place
I should feel so far away.
Distant. My mind is lost
in sunny days and happy smiles;
in frayed and faded dreams.
Breathing chilled air,
daydreams and nostalgia.
Sunlight hot in the sky
illuminating emerald grass.
Rainbows of painted wood
and plastic, smooth to touch.
A foreign memory
of this cold wasteland.
Do I really remember this place
bright and new?
The high noon alight with laughter
and joyous screams, little people
running over wood-chips -
old bark flying past.
Sailing through the air, ever higher
and down again; teasing the ground.
When was it that I was small?
This place is not
the happy haven it used to be;
the playful castle is now
dark,
shadows watching within -
eyes flash in the deep.
Everything I used to love is
broken;
painted over with crude slogans.
It's not the same place, now –
I'm somewhere else.
I walk through the park
near my house.
Neglected and overgrown,
weeds break through gravel
crunching beneath my feet.
The air sings
a faint squeaking of aged metal;
a rusted roundabout turning in the wind,
pushed by phantom hands.
Iron, smothered
under a weed of oxides
it might crumble with a gentle touch.
It's strange that in so close a place
I should feel so far away.
Distant. My mind is lost
in sunny days and happy smiles;
in frayed and faded dreams.
Breathing chilled air,
daydreams and nostalgia.
Sunlight hot in the sky
illuminating emerald grass.
Rainbows of painted wood
and plastic, smooth to touch.
A foreign memory
of this cold wasteland.
Do I really remember this place
bright and new?
The high noon alight with laughter
and joyous screams, little people
running over wood-chips -
old bark flying past.
Sailing through the air, ever higher
and down again; teasing the ground.
When was it that I was small?
This place is not
the happy haven it used to be;
the playful castle is now
dark,
shadows watching within -
eyes flash in the deep.
Everything I used to love is
broken;
painted over with crude slogans.
It's not the same place, now –
I'm somewhere else.
Literature
Broken Dreamer
Broken dreamer
Breathing dreams
Into the wake
Of some disease
That got lost
Along the way
So, paint a smile
Next to your name
Pawn the night
In local shops
Ones that smuggle
Ones that chop
Skip the sidewalks
Hum and sing
Broken dreamer
Breathing dreams
Literature
war
there is a war on
on plastic
on drugs
on niggers
on spics
on chinks
on redskins
on faggots
on health
on life
on death
on
on
on{i}
there is a war on
on bitches
on babies
on poverty
on viruses
on oil
on jesus
on organs
on institutions
on life
on death
on
on
on{i}
Literature
2/30
Summer burns its spine
into my shoulders through the asphalt
and I cry the lullabies
my mother used to sing me
//bury the memories underneath my
fingernails like a splinter that will never heal//
//only to bare my teeth
when my tongue finds its blackened corner//
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'nothing can prepare you for how everything will change'
I wrote this for my uni application, the prompt was a place where I grew up.
If you can critique this, I'd really appreciate it - I want to make sure I iron out any kinks before I send it off.
feedback:
1. What are your thoughts on the story told in the poem?
2. Is the structure consistent?
3. Are there any weak stanzas that could be made stronger or tightened up?
4. Any other thoughts?
Thanks ^_^
crit: [link]
I wrote this for my uni application, the prompt was a place where I grew up.
If you can critique this, I'd really appreciate it - I want to make sure I iron out any kinks before I send it off.
feedback:
1. What are your thoughts on the story told in the poem?
2. Is the structure consistent?
3. Are there any weak stanzas that could be made stronger or tightened up?
4. Any other thoughts?
Thanks ^_^
crit: [link]
Comments33
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Overall
Vision
Originality
Technique
Impact
Stanza 1 - beautiful and filled with wonderful imagery.
Stanza 2 - Beautiful again.
Stanza 3 - I like it but not as much as the other two.
Stanza 4 - beautiful like stanza one and two.
Stanza 5 - lovely.
Stanza 6 - Even though it's only one line (which I thought would be a terrible idea when I glanced over it) it's perfect.
Stanza 7 - I love the change in it. Once so happy now terrible. [feeling wise, not your poem]
Stanza 8 - great and so true.
Suggestion(s): look over your puncuation because you have made some errors.
1. My thoughts on the story is that it is so relateable. This is also beautifully written.
2. The structure is great. Only slipped up once or twice. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/l/l…" width="19" height="19" alt="" title="La la la la"/>
3. No, leave them as they are. They're great the way they are.
4. Yes. It reminds me of vintage and I love vintage. Also, you have recieved a new fave on this and +watcher.
Vision - Beautifully done almost near perfect. 4.5
Orginiality - There has been poetry similar to this but I still love it. 3.5
Technique - Nearly flawless, as I said before I slipped up once or twice on it. (meaning the flow was slightly broken at points but it is so hard to tell that it's not a problem) there was also a few puncuation errors.. 3
Impact - This is so very relatable and amazingly written. I could relate to it so well. 5
Overall - This is a terrific poem. You're very talented and hope to see more works of yours in the future. This deserves a DD to me. I'll suggest it <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/b/b…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title=" (Big Grin)"/>