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The scent of old books,
the fragrance of childhood,
a worn vinyl record reminiscent
of innocent herbs and spices.
One photograph of a cherubic wild bunch,
two girls, three boys,
different children now -
related, yet not at all.
Time too eagerly given,
unseemingly missed, to the wilderness years,
regained only by tales.
Does the sober child frown upon
his encasement and his lack to reach the man?
The man frowns upon the loss of the child,
and rememberance.
Only the scent and sound of one lover
revives and alerts his senses.
And she is all but gone. |
Written by Veronica_Milvus (768 comments posted) 27th July 2008 | This one made my eyes prickle. A story of a child who grew up and feels he has lost something rather than gained anything. But feelings like this can be a watershed, or a wake up call, to do something amazing with the future.
A very sad poem, written in a very quiet voice. | Oh yes, Brett!
Written by Katanga (1537 comments posted) 27th July 2008 | Superb!
Particularly love:
'Does the sober child frown upon
his encasement . . .'
And your last line? A true killer!
Cheers!
John |
Written by Phil (7007 comments posted) 27th July 2008 | I have to confess, I was wondering what to make of this, not the words, the tone, until I read Veronica's last line. Perhaps it's cheating to steal her words, but they sum this up brilliantly. Reread, with that in mind (a very quiet voice) I tuned in straight away.
Enjoyed.
Phil |
Written by Brett (1002 comments posted) 28th July 2008 | Thanks to the few who took time to review - free verse is not my forte as you know.
Sorry V, for prickling your eyes
John - Thanks, but I think I should have done a little polishing here and there - mainly the words.
Phil - Thanks.
Cheers |
Written by NathanRoberts (277 comments posted) 29th July 2008 | The feeling I got from this was a self portrait (lightly sketched, but none the worse for that) where layers of the past are still visible.
That theme of the boy and the man is something you've touched on before. Perhaps it's that feeling of looking back on youth, that sweet sort of ache of reminiscing, tinged with loss.
I thought the first stanza was strong. It seemed to take a slow pan across these memories, giving the reader time to follow.
The second stanza loses the scene a bit, stems into abstraction, maybe (where the first is anchored in clearer images)? And then, those final three lines...which are so intriguing, leaving us wishing to know more.
I can almost sense your unsureness about the 'free verse' style, in those clipped sentences - as if you're tentatively taken each step forward with each line. But in those final three lines, you seem much more surefooted. | Thanks Rob
Written by Brett (1002 comments posted) 31st July 2008 | A review from you on a rare venture by myself into this wilderness is most welcome.
I agree that the second stanza loses not just the scene, but 'it'. Ironically, I was unsure about those last three lines.
Cheers | A Quiet Voice
Written by Katanga (1537 comments posted) 31st July 2008 | Hmmmm! A brilliant comment from Veronica - makes me realise a lot about poetry - in general, the poets I admire, and my own efforts . . .
Gently show, and never tell - your 'target reader' will understand - the others can mostly go to hell!
Occasionally, vicious , angry poetry is valid, but very rarely IMHO. Through care and humility comes truth . . .
BTW I am NOT trying to emulate Kahil Gibran . . . Ha! Ha!
Whooof!
Cheers!
Katie X |
Written by coosh (923 comments posted) 22nd August 2008 | | Liked the way in which this created a lack of acceptance ("too eagerly", "regained only") or inability to draw a line under the passing of a phase of life, and leave it set as just that, the past. Great title, leading through the various items which naturally trigger the nostalgic and sensory responses - an individual struggling with his own self, but viewed almost as a "third-party" outsider, with insider knowledge. Very enjoyable. |
Written by Bottleblondesurfer (3590 comments posted) 22nd August 2008 | Glad this got flagged up
I was completely enveloped by the first verse. I've recently had reason to look at a lot of old photos of relatives [but strangers] staring back at me.
There was something achingly intangible about it. It's the sort of poem that triggers memories and emotions with it's power but it is done with such restraint.
To echo Veronica, strong words quietly spoken
jane | coosh and jane
Written by Brett (1002 comments posted) 22nd August 2008 | Thank you for your kind comments - free verse is not my forte, but I'm glad you both found something to enjoy in this - praise indeed.
Cheers |
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