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This is fantastic, Doc, I was recently "gossiping" with a pen-friend about how good and sensitive a poet you are.
The "those real hours, (though) as sufficient as the short minutes of a last good buy between old friends" pass like "nothing" - this is so well observed and poignant (poignant because of the proportions...). And how true THEY alone give us the right to say "we have lived"... you were never out of track, I believe.
I enjoyed the poem and especially the last line. It motivated me to re-read the poem. That's what I suspect a good last line should do.
Thank you, everyone, for reading and commenting.
Winter
Mornings anticipating
Snow that never comes
Can still feel vivid
If you trouble yourself
To guess the sun
Behind the milky sky.
Chilled air disinfects you
Like breathable whisky.
Yes,
This frozen windlessness
Might let the city stand
Another day.
Hi doc. Some nice expression in this piece. My only quibble is "guess the sun" imagine rather than guess would be my choice. Love:
"Chilled air disinfects you
Like breathable whisky"
Live and be well - H
Hey Hawk, thanks for reading!Quote:
Originally Posted by Hawkman
You're right about the usage of "guess" -- this is actually DocHeart speaking in Greeklish (Greek + English mixed together). "Guess the sun" is something that would work in my native language, but not here.
"Imagine" is the correct verb, but it spoils (what I perceive as) the rhythm. I'm stumped for a better alternative.
I'm sure I'll come up with one before the end of the world, however.
Good health!
DH
Another good poem about winter! Elegant, reserved, it concedes some degree of optimism. I absolutely love the whole first stanza and although I'm not a specialist in English, for me "if you trouble yourself/ to guess the sun/ behind the milky sky" is fascinating and effective! (and indeed, it reads well, as if it were the only option here).Quote:
Originally Posted by DocHeart
Thanks Doc! I enjoyed it immensely! and will return to it.
I kind of like "guess the sun." It would make a good title for something. Maybe your book of poetry.
Solid
I will play this magic flute.
Empty beer cans will follow me
To the Land of Broken Clocks.
This rainbow has solid grey intestines.
Whisky - yes! Completeness and Fulfillment.
Saint George be with you, child, bless you.
Smoke this and drag the snake-skin carpet
Under time's feet; now rest. Inhale.
You know very well what kind of place this is:
It is Bukowski's Globe Theatre;
It is Kafka's garage full of Christmas trees;
It is the Room of Liars. Get comfy.
For out of here lies only an ocean
Of vague question marks.
Wish I read Bukowski and Kafka (I've been found out!) closing lines very interesting but I'm not sure the imagery sits with me. Anyway, I did enjoy the visions and the almost bawdy tone of the poem Doc.
Walking downtown at midnight
Walking downtown at midnight
Should feel less homely, less safe.
I was duly brought up on
"Trundle in darkness, step on dogsiht".
Why does this squalor seem sweet, then?
The dusty bar stools, the abandoned cars;
The pavements cracking with grief,
The hooker's flabby arm hailing a cab,
The card players coughing downstairs.
This grime has always been here,
Before the Body Shop, before Macdonald's,
Like a bastard child stalking his father
Crouched behind loud, fake neon.
All nonsense gone, all windows smashed,
All pseudo-grandeur flushed down the loo.
But supermarket bags and dust still foxtrot
And question-marked strangers still roam
Around these unlit slippery paths:
They all connect me to a familiar past.
Let me stand here. Business as usual
For the mouldy wall thick with graffiti.
The Africanos argue by the traffic light.
Drunk people walk slowly, losing life.
Yes, when sickened by what was taken away
One needs a steady point to fix his gaze upon.
The city's slimy nights supply it, freely.
This is downtown Athens today? Nice description, but in my mind I keep seeing the ancients roaming it. The word, "sippery" should probably be "slippery".
Hi YesNo,
Keep the image of the ancients. It's better. :)
And thanks for pointing out the typo.
Best,
DH
Athens must be quite the muse, Doc.
J
This is really good. It is one I would return to, if it was in a book, although I think you could skip lines 3 and 4 and attach the first two lines to the second stanza. Just a thought.