Offer some help

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Offer some help

Post  dennis20 on Wed Feb 26, 2014 3:32 pm

World to World

The flash of new asphalt
provided escape from country
to a wasp nest of city life.
 
As miles go by, hues
of green mountains
and golden corn replaced
 
by gray concrete high rises--
faded headstones
in rustic cemeteries.
 
Flowers, like those found
along creeks and fields,  
trapped in window planter boxes.
 
The songs of birds drown
in the sea of traffic,
trampled in the stampede
 
of humanity.  No moon or stars
or pond with willows.
Life flashed in neon.

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WORLD TO WORLD

Post  Dewell H. Byrd on Fri Feb 28, 2014 11:14 am

Some super images... trapped in window boxes... rustic cemeteries... neon life...
Maybe title of this poem should speak of TRANSITION, not World To World.         
The wasp nest image drew me from the poem since it was the first hint I saw of the poem's "I".  Consider deleting first two lines of last stanza.  Would it help to clarify if the word "are" were added to stanza 2, line 3?
I know the feeling the poem suggests each time I drive from farm land thru clappboard factory brownfields to downtown.  Dewell

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We're a happy nature lot this month huh? :)

Post  tsukany on Sat Mar 01, 2014 8:26 am

Oh dear...forgive me.  I started with an idea in Notepad and totally wrecked your offering.  Since I've broken it heartily, perhaps you can re-see something redemptive.  My apologies.  Love the images!


World to World

Flowers, like those along creeks 
and fields, live/exist/survive
trapped in window boxes.  (this hints to the cemetery of the ending)
 
The songs of birds drown
in a sea of traffic, 
a trampling stampede
 
of humanity.  No moon or stars
or pond with willows.
Life flashes in neon.

The flash of new/lined/painted/striped asphalt 
provides escape from a wasp nest 
of city life to country.

As miles go by, hues
of green mountains
and golden corn replace
 
gray concrete high rises--
faded/exhausted (something of urban pollution) headstones
in rustic/urban cemeteries.
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Cold hearts in March

Post  dennis20 on Sat Mar 01, 2014 12:40 pm

Dewell, Todd, thanks for the input.  To go along with Todd's thought of going back to the country from the gray (grey) of city to Mts. and flowers via the painted/striped asphalt Dewell's suggestion of a different title led me to think of Back to the Future.  I think changing the order does put the flower box and cemetery in a different perspective than my version.  My sight was on the rearview and Todd's is looking out the windshield.  Very neat. This is what is so great about others looking at poems we write.  We may not change a thing, but they show us things we never knew were there.  And we wrote them without knowing.  Brilliant!

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All of us may be longing for something other than ice/snow.

Post  Pat on Sat Mar 01, 2014 7:55 pm

I'm just looking at it stanza by stanza:
S. 1 : Dennis, I'd contrast from the get-go like "quiet country" or profoundly quiet country to the wasp nest of the city. You are leaving one for the other. I'd place a descriptor in front of country.
S 2: A thought: did you consider present tense? Everything so different. Hues of . . . .
S 3: I wonder if high-rises might be hyphenated???? I am not sure where headstones/cemeteries fit?? City or country?
S 5: You captured noisy and crowded. One is wild? (stampede) chaotic? or is it just hectic?
I'm thinking you are contrasting noise with calm. Right?
I understand Dewell's suggestion (Transition) but I'm not fond of that word for this, though that is what it is. Maybe Two Worlds Contrast. I guess you'll have to decide where the focus is: on the movement in the car and what you see or the contrast of the two worlds. The title can direct the reader and his thinking.
I identify with the contrast of solitude and quiet vs noise and crowdedness. Your images are good. Easy to follow.


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I had a little time so...

Post  dennis20 on Sat Mar 01, 2014 9:24 pm

Gang,  this is from Todd's suggestions.  Looks like a more positive approach to what I had written.

Back to the Future

Flowers like those along creeks
and fields, survive here
trapped in window boxes.
 
The songs of birds drown
in the sea of traffic,
under a trampling stampede
 
of humanity.  No moon or stars
or pond with willows.
Life flashes in neon.
 
The flash of new striped asphalt
provides escape from a wasp nest
of city life to country.
 
As miles go by, hues
of green mountains
and golden corn replace
 
gray concrete high rises--
weather-worn headstones

of urban cemeteries.

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I like the present tense.

Post  Pat on Sat Mar 01, 2014 9:54 pm

Yes, I think this helped a lot. Weather-worn and urban, clarifying. Back to the Future as a title confuses me though because you are talking about two places. Did you mean to break the last stanza? I like the colors you have in the poem.

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