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Julie sits and waits for her soaps to start, eating chocolate
she wipes her hands on her dressing gown,
and turns the pages of an old smiling photo album,
each snap separated by a thin layer of tissue.
She glances at a plastic wall clock
that needs a battery change,
It’s been watching them for years.
Curved ash drops off Julie’s cigarette onto the arm
of the settee, she smears it in before
taking another odourless drink.
the screen in the corner holds two small girls captive,
both sit cross-legged doing homework
deep inside the acoustic bubble.
They eat handfuls of cereal for supper,
then take themselves off to bed,
tell stories to each other.
Ron has just nipped out to the pub
he’s only having one with the lads
but now its five or six and he’s gone to get fish and chips
just to make things right again.
As he stumbles around the familiar corner
the flames sober him into a flat footed sprint.
Julie is outside, barefoot on the pavement.
Where are the girls he asks, but Julie can only point,
as a bedroom window explodes in the heat
both parents fall to their knees.
The second hand of the melting clock
begins to move as the two girls
come running out of the house.
As the family cry and hug each other,
it falls from the wall.
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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This is wonderful - the details, the plot... tracking with closeups. Very satisfying.
I'm wondering if "of" on L8 might be "off," but the line reads pretty well with "drops (of)" as a noun rather than "drops (off)" as a verb, too.
Has everything a story needs. Excellent. 
 Non-practicing atheist
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really enjoyed it Kieth. each line rand into the next without a hiccup.
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(10-04-2018, 11:13 AM)dukealien Wrote: This is wonderful - the details, the plot... tracking with closeups. Very satisfying.
I'm wondering if "of" on L8 might be "off," but the line reads pretty well with "drops (of)" as a noun rather than "drops (off)" as a verb, too.
Has everything a story needs. Excellent.
Thank you for the help on the "off" Duke, quick fixed it, you comments are greatly appreciated. Keith
(10-04-2018, 05:26 PM)billy Wrote: really enjoyed it Kieth. each line rand into the next without a hiccup.
Hi Billy, yes it is a bit rand  thanks for reading and commenting. Best Keith
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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twat; i meant ran 
(10-10-2018, 12:53 AM)Keith Wrote: Hi Billy, yes it is a bit rand thanks for reading and commenting. Best Keith
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If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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The poem involves and invites an examination of the sometimes onerous role that mediated and measured <space->time or time properly transformed plays out in ordinary and residential life. Against the cross-section of any momentary and socialized consideration of some particular quandry or ethical question, when time slows down, something like the melting clocks of Dali, both the infinitesimal and the infinite are reached simultaneously
plutocratic polyphonous pandering
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(10-17-2018, 12:10 AM)Thunderembargo Wrote: The poem involves and invites an examination of the sometimes onerous role that mediated and measured <space->time or time properly transformed plays out in ordinary and residential life. Against the cross-section of any momentary and socialized consideration of some particular quandry or ethical question, when time slows down, something like the melting clocks of Dali, both the infinitesimal and the infinite are reached simultaneously
Hi Thunder,
It's always interesting to see how a poem is received by the reader so thank you for the feedback. Best Keith
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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(10-04-2018, 03:18 AM)Keith Wrote: Julie sits and waits for her soaps to start, eating chocolate
she wipes her hands on her dressing gown,
and turns the pages of an old smiling photo album,
each snap separated by a thin layer of tissue.
She glances at a plastic wall clock
that needs a battery change,
It’s been watching them for years.
Curved ash drops off Julie’s cigarette onto the arm
of the settee, she smears it in before
taking another odourless drink.
the screen in the corner holds two small girls captive,
both sit cross-legged doing homework
deep inside the acoustic bubble.
They eat handfuls of cereal for supper,
then take themselves off to bed,
tell stories to each other.
Ron has just nipped out to the pub
he’s only having one with the lads
but now its five or six and he’s gone to get fish and chips
just to make things right again.
As he stumbles around the familiar corner
the flames sober him into a flat footed sprint.
Julie is outside, barefoot on the pavement.
Where are the girls he asks, but Julie can only point,
as a bedroom window explodes in the heat
both parents fall to their knees.
The second hand of the melting clock
begins to move as the two girls
come running out of the house.
As the family cry and hug each other,
it falls from the wall.
"sometimes you need a (near) catastrophe to get things moving again" was my first thought after reading this.
i am amazed at your storytelling with all these perfectly fitting details and the metaphor-clock.
...
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(11-14-2018, 08:20 PM)vagabond Wrote: (10-04-2018, 03:18 AM)Keith Wrote: Julie sits and waits for her soaps to start, eating chocolate
she wipes her hands on her dressing gown,
and turns the pages of an old smiling photo album,
each snap separated by a thin layer of tissue.
She glances at a plastic wall clock
that needs a battery change,
It’s been watching them for years.
Curved ash drops off Julie’s cigarette onto the arm
of the settee, she smears it in before
taking another odourless drink.
the screen in the corner holds two small girls captive,
both sit cross-legged doing homework
deep inside the acoustic bubble.
They eat handfuls of cereal for supper,
then take themselves off to bed,
tell stories to each other.
Ron has just nipped out to the pub
he’s only having one with the lads
but now its five or six and he’s gone to get fish and chips
just to make things right again.
As he stumbles around the familiar corner
the flames sober him into a flat footed sprint.
Julie is outside, barefoot on the pavement.
Where are the girls he asks, but Julie can only point,
as a bedroom window explodes in the heat
both parents fall to their knees.
The second hand of the melting clock
begins to move as the two girls
come running out of the house.
As the family cry and hug each other,
it falls from the wall.
"sometimes you need a (near) catastrophe to get things moving again" was my first thought after reading this.
i am amazed at your storytelling with all these perfectly fitting details and the metaphor-clock.
Thank you Vagabond, very pleased that was your take away, much appreciated, Keith
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
|
thanks Billy
