Endless Summer (v2)
#1
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v2.
Endless Summer


This was then, and of course it was
a different time. A window cracked
was fine for dogs, children - didn't matter
how small they were, nor how hot the day.
Weekends were when the adults played.
Dressed-up, whites commandeering
greens and parks, minutes stretching
into hours: years put to the rack

My father, smaller than this boy
would want his dad to be. Spinner,
left arm over, deceived more than not.
But there were those deliveries when
the magic failed, the bat connected,
thwok! And a tight-stitched ball would burst
into the pavilion, clatter waiting wives,
warm cake icing, sandwiches: Tea

was women's work in the 1970s.
And I was out beyond the pale, boundary
rope, bored past tears, grimly watching
crabby grasses grow. Before dry eyes
a whole day died. Two innings, interval
and showers, buried - box with pads,
knitted sweaters, thick enough for winter -
in Slazenger and Addidas kit bags.

If you (and by this, I mean your mum)
didn't pack a lunch, you'd go hungry,
'til, by stumps you'd have had a bellyful
of see-saws, slides and sullen kids
who weren't your mates, weren't your age -
go and play. Him. He's Mid-offs son

- and the nothingness of time, left
to your own devices. Then, the pub.

You two behave. I'll be back.
Soon.
Just a swift half. No you can't
have the radio on, the battery
will go flat. Won't stay long.
Krooklok set. Just a pint. Ok. Fine.
I'll bring you out a coke. And crisps.
Ice. In a minute. Early start tommorrow.







Endless Summer


This was then, and of course it was
a different time. A window cracked
was fine for dogs, children - didn't matter
how small they were, nor how hot the day.
Weekends were when the adults played.
Dressed-up, whites commandeering
greens and parks and stretching minutes
into hours, like heretics on a rack.

My father, smaller than this boy
would want his dad to be. Spinner,
left arm over, deceived more than not.
But there were those deliveries when
the magic failed, the swing connected,
thwok. And a tight-stitched ball would burst
into the pavilion, clattering waiting wives,
warm cake, sandwiches: Tea

was women's work in the 1970s.
And I was out beyond the pale, the boundary
rope, bored past tears, grimly watching
crabby grasses grow. Before dry eyes
a whole day died: two innings, interval
and showers. Buried - box with pads,
knitted sweaters, thick enough for winter -
in leather bags, longer than a linseed-oiled bat.

If you (and by this, I mean your mum)
didn't pack a sandwich, you'd go hungry,
'til, by stumps you'd have had a bellyful,
of see-saws, slides and sullen kids
who weren't your mates, your own age -
go and play with him, he's Mid-offs son
- and the nothingness of time, left
to your own devices. Then, the pub.

No you can't have the radio on,
the battery'll go flat. Krooklok set,
You two sit here. I'll be back.
Soon.
Just have a swift half. Been a long day. 
I'll bring you out a coke, and crisps.
Fine. In a minute. Not salt and vinegar.
Just one round. Early start tommorrow.






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#2
I’ll come back to this later when I have more time
I like how you’ve tried to evoke the tempo of an Australian past.
Not sure left arm over makes sense - surely, the only underarm ball bowled in that era was by Trevor Chappell, not counting backyard cricket played with the kids?

Unless it’s an archaic reference to legspin or offspin...happy to be enlightened
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#3
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Hi busker,
thanks for the read.
'Tried' - now there's a big word Smile

Not Australian though, British/English.

'Left arm' - you're right, bugger.  Mea culpa.  Changed.  Thanks.  (He was a spinner.)

Best, Knot

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#4
Took two reads, as I didn’t catch onto the cricket references right away. Very reminiscent of Little League baseball, though. Kind of a universal scenario, which makes this work well across cultures.

First read, ‘whites’ came across as a racial references. Second read it seems to me - and I may be wrong - white clothing was/is a color worn for sporting events(?). Forgive my ignorance here. But I also wonder if the reference to white was an intentional double entendre. If it isn’t, don’t tell me lol. I think it works nicely for the setting, if it is.

I like this, and no specific nits come to mind immediately. I’ll come back to it.
There is no escape from metre; there is only mastery. TS Eliot
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#5
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Hi Seraphim.

Took two reads, as I didn’t catch onto the cricket references right away. Very reminiscent of Little League baseball, though. Kind of a universal scenario, which makes this work well across cultures.
Glad you felt it worth two reads Smile I'll take your word for 'little league'. I was hoping for a 'universal scenario' but always difficult to know if that comes through. Thanks .

First read, ‘whites’ came across as a racial references. Second read it seems to me - and I may be wrong - white clothing was/is a color worn for sporting events(?). Forgive my ignorance here. But I also wonder if the reference to white was an intentional double entendre. If it isn’t, don’t tell me lol. I think it works nicely for the setting, if it is.

Yes, you got it. Cricketers traditionally wear 'whites', and given that this is set in England in the 1970s,the double entendre was irresistale Smile


Best, Knot



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#6
It's the end of the day and I've just watched a video set in a dreamy world, where the narrator's voice is deep and important. Echoes of memories past, they resonate with your text. I'm hearing the voice of a grown man, I read the last paragraph in italics as the present day, a way to wake up from the reverie?

I'm puzzled by a few things, but part of it is lack of familiarity, but "like heretics on a rack": what does a heretic look or sound or is like? I'm failing to see how you could use that term, unless we had been introduced into a sort of religious setting. I like the sound "like heretics on a rack" makes though.

"out beyond the pale": that's an idiom, I would stay away from them

I have a problem with how the understandability varies from paragraph to paragraph: the 4th paragraph seems simple to get, but the 2nd one is opaque to me.
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#7
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Hi Frenchie,
thanks for the read and critique.

Don't worry about 'heretics', they're on their way out, just vacillating over the alternatives.

'out beyond the pale' - idiom, true, and a couple of puns. Beyond the pale, boundary rope - is one,
and (two) 'the pale' as initially a 'post, stick, fence' and I'm stretching the resemblance between that
and the 'stumps' in cricket. Clearly quite a bit depends on a knowledge of that sport.


Thanks again.

Best, Knot.



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#8
hi Knot. for me the title felt a bit cliche, when i google it i found over 16,000,000 entries, and yep that's million Big Grin
that said i can live with it.

(08-03-2019, 10:51 PM)Knot Wrote:  Endless Summer


This was then, and of course it was is [and] needed
a different time. A window cracked
was fine for dogs, children - didn't matter
how small they were, nor how hot the day. i like the enjambment from the previous line to this one.
Weekends were when the adults played.
Dressed-up, whites commandeering
greens and parks and stretching minutes
into hours, like heretics on a rack. i more or less enjoyed all of the 1st stanza apart from the 1st line. the simile at the end of the stanza made me think which is always a good thing. all round you have some good enjambments going on.

My father, smaller than this boy
would want his dad to be. Spinner, in some places not sure a mid sentence period helps the read. this line being one of them.
left arm over, deceived more than not.
But there were those deliveries when
the magic failed, the swing connected,
thwok. And a tight-stitched ball would burst lovely sounding onomatopoeic thwok
into the pavilion, clattering waiting wives,
warm cake, sandwiches: Tea the latter part of this stanza creates a great image.

was women's work in the 1970s. for me the split sentence doesn't work well enough to use. a suggestion would be [it was women's...]
And I was out beyond the pale, the boundary
rope, bored past tears, grimly watching
crabby grasses grow. Before dry eyes
a whole day died: two innings, interval
and showers. Buried - box with pads,
knitted sweaters, thick enough for winter -
in leather bags, longer than a linseed-oiled bat. i like a lot of your word use in this stanza. some good alliterative [b's] [g's] and [i's] solid descriptions near the end of the stanza that put me in the poem.

If you (and by this, I mean your mum) not sure this line works for me. well i am sure, it doesn't, feels too contrived
didn't pack a sandwich, you'd go hungry,
'til, by stumps you'd have had a bellyful,
of see-saws, slides and sullen kids
who weren't your mates, your own age -
go and play with him, he's Mid-offs son
- and the nothingness of time, left
to your own devices. Then, the pub.

No you can't have the radio on,
the battery'll go flat. Krooklok set,
You two sit here. I'll be back.
Soon.
Just have a swift half. Been a long day.
I'll bring you out a coke, and crisps.
Fine. In a minute. Not salt and vinegar.
Just one round. Early start tommorrow. i struggled to tie this last stanza to the rest of the poem. could be me but i'd like to see a better transition on a really enjoyable piece of poetry. oh; it's tomorrow Wink
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#9
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Hi billy,

thanks for the read and the critique.

Yes, the title was/is deliberately clichéd, just a little bit of irony and misdirection to start. But I think it does the job. Any alternatives?

This was then, and of course it was

is [and] needed
Not sure, it suits my rhythm and if cut, it would be a bit of a jerky start. Aren't you taking me to task about this a little later? Smile
...
i more or less enjoyed all of the 1st stanza apart from the 1st line. the simile at the end of the stanza made me think which is always
a good thing.all round you have some good enjambments going on.
I'm not 100% on 'heretics', though I like the 'rack' (and 'cracked').

would want his dad to be. Spinner,

in some places not sure a mid sentence period helps the read. this line being one of them.
Ok, what would you suggest?
....
the latter part of this stanza creates a great image.
Thanks.

was women's work in the 1970s.

for me the split sentence doesn't work well enough to use. a suggestion would be [it was women's...]
I think I'll brazen it out.
...
in leather bags, longer than a linseed-oiled bat.
i like a lot of your word use in this stanza. some good alliterative [b's] [g's] and [i's] solid descriptions near the end of the stanza that put
me in the poem.
Thanks, though see if that still holds true of the revision.


If you (and by this, I mean your mum)
not sure this line works for me. well i am sure, it doesn't, feels too contrived
Alternatives? (But I need the 'neglect' from both parents).
...

...

i struggled to tie this last stanza to the rest of the poem. could be me but i'd like to see a better transition on a really enjoyable piece of
poetry. oh; it's tomorrow Wink
It is supposed to have been set up in S1. It is the father talking to his kids (one of whom will
grow up to become N) as he locks them in the car ('window cracked') and goes off to the pub
for a post-match drink, or four, with the team. 'Early start ...' is referring to the fact that
there's another game tomorrow (at an 'away' ground) so the day will happen all over again.


Thanks again.

Best, Knot.



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#10
hi knot re the mid sentence period, you ask what would i suggest. i already did, they don't work for me, don't use them. but it is just a suggestion.

the mum sentence; you ask for alternatives. i'd suggest it's your poem. i'm just saying it doesn't work for me because it feels too contrived. if you agree you'll come up with something, if you don't you wont.
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