next »

[Vincent Turner]

Tweet

For M.T

The cloud devours the sun Second winter begins.
Rooms flood cold as reeled in light,
like a grown child leaving home,
abandons that which needs it most.

Air tugs heavy
an announcement
of death just heard.
Birds stop mid-song,
flying away as one,
from saplings robbed
of youthful stance.

Silence finds new voice
beyond walls that long to clap,
water pipes clank; radiators twang,
the hum of house seeks a listener.

Seek relief under layers of linen
minimise the world
to a spiders web twirl,
create metaphors
from rotten fruit
abandoned on the window sill.
expand similes
in the fall of dead petals
as flowers
paddle in the mush
of green a water vase.


Dust grows confident
advancing from the cupboard top,
cancerous in its speed.
Weeks disguise themselves
as drawn-out days,
Time is a lie.
All words of comfort
are weightless,
never reaching.

there is no sun
the world is cold solar.








 

[Jenifer]

Tweet

This poem shows excellent control.  You are skilled at directing your reader toward pace with line breaks and the words you choose.  A few suggestions to follow:


The cloud devours the sun: Second winter begins. (do you really want a colon here?)
Rooms turn cold as reeled-in light, (is there a stronger verb for 'turn cold'?)
like a grown child leaving home,
abandons that which needs it most. (nice two closing lines to this stanza.)

Air is heavily felt (Again, something stronger than 'heavily felt'? which is awkward)
as though an announcement (cut 'as though' you don't need it)
of death just heard,
birds stop mid-song,
they fly away as one, ('they fly' into 'flying'?)
from sapling robbed
of youthful stance.

Silence finds new voice. (think you should cut the period here.)
Beyond walls that long to clap,
water pipes clank; radiators twang- (no dash, just a comma is sufficient)
the hum of house seeks a listener.

Withdraw under layers of linen (who is withdrawing?)
& watch frayed spider webs twirl
like young girls hair.

All food is rotten
without sun, (How does this fit with the rest of the poem?  Why food now?)
flowers paddle in the (When did we move outside?)
mush of their fallen fruit,
dust grows confident
advancing from the cupboard top,
cancerous in its speed.

Weeks disguise themselves
as drawn-out days,
Time is a lie.
All words are weightless,
never reaching. (never reaching what?)

there is no sun
I am cold solar. (These last two lines are maybe a little heavy handed and I would consider cutting them.  This is the only point in which you introduce yourself.  Is it necessary?)

Just some thoughts.

Nice reading you.

Jen

[Vincent Turner]

Tweet

Hi Jen

Good to hear from you on here.

Thanks for the thorough input.

Have given me lots to think about.

Best regards

Vincent

[Sana]

Tweet

Hi Vince,

I have seen you hone your writing over a period of time since you first joined the forum and your work keeps getting better to the degree that you now possess a distinct voice of your own. Nice work, enjoyed reading it. Keep writing!


Sana

[paulfclayton]

Tweet

I thought this was really powerful
made me want to put a sweater on
And I love the title ... drew me straight in
The sort of title M83 or Boards of Canada might
assign to music
It's a thumbs up from me
Paul