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Then
This bus moves
like a corpse through earth
the jerk of piano keys
crescendo of motor roar
This bus moves
like a maggot through flesh
each speedbump
a sliver of bone
a silence against the tyres' groan
a shake for the Polaroid's tone
then
the roads roll by
black carpet treads
no more red
all the blood has been bled
and all the stones
have been thrown
to mark the way home
all those that roam
must suffer a return
another path burns
to mother and father
and the family home
take me to my childhood bed
lay down my sorrowful head
let me sleep the sleep of
seasoned men,
travelers all,
feed me the broth
of now and then
the wisdom that comes
through distance, through time
then match our heartbeats
see if they still rhyme
This man moves
through the circles of life
slashing through the arcs
with his soul of a knife
And this man moves
through the linear rites
Can he gain some passage,
can he gain a life?
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| I'm not sure the first 2 stanzas are needed except for a comparison. The later part is excellent. He cadence is beautiful and it reads smoothly. Nice work. Janet |
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Comment by: Dante - 2007-07-11 21:43
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| Colin, this would be a good piece to perform. I'd like to hear the author's physical voice match the ups and downs in emotion. Thanks for the good read. |
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Comment by: - 2007-06-04 23:01
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| Just for fun, I challenge you to turn this poem into 10 lines that rhyme. Say the most in the least amount of words. |
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Comment by: - 2007-06-04 11:18
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| This poem is up with the best of any you have written. Congratulations. In criticism I would say that the second stanza does not match the first, at least not as much as the last two match. Since the poem mirrors its self I thought it made a slow beginning. On the positive side, the whole second half is amazing. And I was glad to see some rhyming. |
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Comment by: solaris - 2007-06-04 05:15
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a most impressive, sound-driven, visually stimulating write. absolutely performable, and conjuring up some of the ways families rub against eachother. some of the most telling lines, for me at least, were:
the wisdom that comes
through distance, through time
then match our heartbeats
see if they still rhyme
but the opening lines, depicting the crawl, the noise, the dargged-outness of the bus journey (especially in this day and age where we're used to more instant transportation, mind to mind, over the net, the phone, etc...) caught my attention and promised what they then delivered. thanks for the read! |
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