Observations

[Hawkman]

High Street

Mob-handed,
black Christians
bellow Bible-bites
by megaphone,
while to the side,
two Muslims of a lighter hue
offer the Quran for free.
Neither faith tempts me.

(21-04-12)

[cogs]

your judgement is free from color, lol. i like the hue and quran assonance, along with the alliteration. really efficient and vivid vignette. it's not tempting to accept something over a megaphone, or free?

[Hawkman]

Thanks cogs. Actually I just want the right to walk down the street without being accosted, evangelised, or proselytised by anyone. If I wanted to be preached at I'd go to the appropriate house of god.

In fact noise levels everywhere are on the rise. The new shopping centre, which has sucked the life out of the town, leaving high-street shops empty and forlorn, echoes to the sound of humanity to a degree which my ears find painful and inescapable. Outside, at least one can walk away from the evangelists and amplified buskers, who seem to be positioned every 20 yards or so.

Live and be well - H

[cogs]

highly interesting circumstance - you should write a short story about it.

[Buh4Bee]

I read this several times. The title doesn't sit well with me. The poem is about more than a passive observation. But I am not sure what to suggest as an alternative.

I also hate the city people who want to push their religion on you as if you are in a mall looking shopping for a new shirt. When in actuality, you are just trying to get to the next train or what not. In NYC, they'd stand in the subways. What better place than to try to spread the Word to mob?

[Hawkman]

cogs: I'll bear it in mind For the moment, though, I've got Perrigore to finish!

B4B: Well, the title of the thread is not the title of the poem, which is High-Street. The thread is, I suppose, an approximation of Prince Myshkin's "Snapshots". As for the content of the first offering, it is exactly what I observed in Passing, including the last line comment. I could probably go on at some length about not needing someone else's ideas to guide me on a quest for spirituality, but it isn't the subject of the thread, or the poem, so I won't Generally, the contemporary world seems to demand that we accept a constant barrage of intrusion into our lives, be it as we walk down the street or even sitting quietly at home while the telephone rings non-stop because machines dial lists of numbers in order to play recorded messages at us. (rant off)

Anyway, thanks for reading it and stopping by to post a note.

Live and be well - H

[Buh4Bee]

Gotcha' !