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Delta40
02-03-2011, 05:43 PM
Hey, remember that house
you lived in?
The old tin shack
with rust stains
that dripped down onto
the verandah?
Rows of olive trees
and chickens galore.
Didn't you used to push
the plucked ones round
in your pram when you were small?
I remember now.
This street, that house,
the container
of your most painful memories.

Today, in the sun
it is born again on the outside.
Red colourbond roof,
rendered sandstone finish,
a harmless garden with a gate.

You still struggle to escape
even after all this time
and inevitably stumble
through the door
across the threshold
into the open corridor.
Your distress echoes
and bounces off greasy aqua blue
walls with chunks of plaster missing
The torn, faded lino
sticks curly hairs to your knees
as you hit the punishment room
containing a battered old trunk.
You scrabble backwards and run

Some things will never change
on the inside.
Even when you buy a new dress.

everyadventure
02-03-2011, 05:47 PM
Your second poem recently centering on a "punishment room." Disturbing and effective.

PrinceMyshkin
02-03-2011, 06:50 PM
I too was startled or distracted by that punishment room and the need to buy a new dress but while I don't think I could read what lay underneath this, the wealth of very particular, very concrete details enclosed and held me.

hillwalker
02-04-2011, 08:40 AM
You definitely took me with you through her past into that dark place - such contrast to the outdoor portrait of an idyllic shack somewhere out in the countryside - and I suppose no matter how many new dresses she buys the impact of that memory will never be softened.

H

Delta40
02-05-2011, 07:31 AM
I guess my point is that a house of horrors from someones childhood past maybe renovated but what happened inside will stay forever. Like people.

blank|verse
02-05-2011, 02:35 PM
A powerful poem, Delta, that is well paced; the narrative develops well.

If you'll allow me to say so, I admire your use of demonstrative pronouns!

This street, that house,
- it's an effective way of breaking the 'wall' of a poem between reader and narrator.
It's an unsettling poem, but maybe this strays into 'telling' too much:

Your distress echoes
and bounces off greasy aqua blue
walls
I too am a bit baffled by the ending, but take the point. I wasn't so keen on the sudden change of narrative register, which I feel could be improved just by removing this line:

While appearances are deceptive,
which seems to say 'and the moral of the story is' too much. But overall, it's a strong and honest poem.

qimissung
02-05-2011, 04:08 PM
I see what BV is getting at Delta, but I kind of like the last lines. I would consider, as he suggested, removing "while appearances are deceptive" and maybe even the line before that, "knowing the truth." Rewrite your poem without those lines, wait a day or so, then re-read it aloud to yourself and see what you think. The decision is ultimately yours as the author, of course, and in the end, whether you do it or not, you have a very fine and moving poem.

Delta40
02-05-2011, 04:59 PM
I really appreciate your comments B/V and Qim. I have removed two lines and hope this enhances the poem a little more. I did not plan on it having a moral but it does read like that upon reflection.

thanks

Jerrybaldy
02-06-2011, 09:35 AM
The 'punishment room' did come as a turn into a very dark corner and as Hill suggested, your descriptive skill left me feeling as though I have just done the tour.