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Melanchol's Door
There is a community centre with
The spittle sour smell of public things
The guilty stuff that comes of a prossy's cheeks
Last year's beer, sick and crisps lain for weeks
Down the street there is a bastard of a door
Red, paint coming off in triangles. A whore
Lived there once. Now the only sign of life
Is the TV behind dark windows that rolls for hours
And hours. I pass her on my nightly wander
And wonder what it is to breath behind these
Ciggies, saggy gloom and straggly black hair
Flames choked, ash massing forever
Calmly I double over and whimper with a jar
To see such in Edlo*, where the shadows are
*Edlington- an English town
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Comment by: Jamilah - 2007-04-15 11:27
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This is smooth and easy. You do a nice job of painting the scene with your images, and I like your rhyme.
I have to admit, the British references threw me off a little. Thanks for the footnote. |
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Comment by: Tom - 2007-04-14 16:33
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not sure about "Edlo" - Never heard of the place before - fine, it's an English town, but it seems an unusual reference point - unless you are trying to paint a picture of "any old town" in England...
Otherwise, yes, I enjoyed the imagery and boldness of the piece - an extremely confident voice, natural, progressive imagery and interesting subjects - it FLOWS :)
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Good use of internal rhymes and alliteration, Renee. Found the last couplet a bit forced, but can live with it.
Milner |
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| I like the use of rhyme. It sounds good. The almost balanced lines work well. Not sure what the final couplet means....but will think about it! |
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