10-05-2013, 09:26 AM
I read this earlier and see that you made some edits. This is almost prose for you... NOT! There was a nice flow in the near 8-syl quadrameric lines. That's quite the heat wave you depict as well. I had a few stutter steps:
9PM
The air itself was choked that night,
it lay unmoving hot and moist;
slumped across the smoke-hazed town,
in doorways meshed against the fly,
in river loops and forest depths,
on soft road tar, in steamed-up cars.
Though summer wheezed in pollen fog,
sweat-drenched labour smoked in bars,
and swilled back warm, black, hop-dry ale. this is almost a tongue twister, too many adjectives, perhaps more action
10PM
Youth in prime dismay of life
moped about for cooler haunts;
then flushed and florid, melted in
to strolling, shiftless, aimless gangs,
as hormones lost the heat-sapped war.
Extinguished by the press of night
the flame of impulse faded out
with every parting shadow shift
‘till only one or two kicked cans
along the slickly shining street. smooth and oozing alliteration in this stanza
11PM
Soon the spill of last-to-leaves
broke out with dire homeward hymns. 'hymns' sounds too stiff and relegious (chants, tunes..)
Some sang drunk metaphors for moon, I would drop the 'sang' and add 'the' before moon
belisha becon, orange friend; this is a great phrase and image!
yet staggered, thankful, where he shone. some confusion between staggered and he shone, maybe 'they staggerd'
Aglow in sickly sodium light can you replace sickly with some heat adjective?
they stumbled on in friendly knots,
each sharing legs from either side,
until the distance took them… gone. the ellipsis and gone? why not just took them home
Without the living on the streets
the silence added to the heat.
12 Midnight
Not one soul stirred, but in the rooms
with peeling walls and curtained beds,
where ceiling fans limped clanking round
in futile hope of moving air;
they lay in salt-steeped, sleeping dreams,
pickled from the inside out, and outside in.
How fitfully a toss or turn
or cough disturbs the fragile state.
Each wide-sprung eye, each bladder cry, sorry, but that wide-sprung eye and bladder cries Penis
invokes the same incanted prayer.
Just end the night, just send the dawn,
bring one more morning, cool and fair.
Thank goodness Autumn is here! Nice
9PM
The air itself was choked that night,
it lay unmoving hot and moist;
slumped across the smoke-hazed town,
in doorways meshed against the fly,
in river loops and forest depths,
on soft road tar, in steamed-up cars.
Though summer wheezed in pollen fog,
sweat-drenched labour smoked in bars,
and swilled back warm, black, hop-dry ale. this is almost a tongue twister, too many adjectives, perhaps more action
10PM
Youth in prime dismay of life
moped about for cooler haunts;
then flushed and florid, melted in
to strolling, shiftless, aimless gangs,
as hormones lost the heat-sapped war.
Extinguished by the press of night
the flame of impulse faded out
with every parting shadow shift
‘till only one or two kicked cans
along the slickly shining street. smooth and oozing alliteration in this stanza
11PM
Soon the spill of last-to-leaves
broke out with dire homeward hymns. 'hymns' sounds too stiff and relegious (chants, tunes..)
Some sang drunk metaphors for moon, I would drop the 'sang' and add 'the' before moon
belisha becon, orange friend; this is a great phrase and image!
yet staggered, thankful, where he shone. some confusion between staggered and he shone, maybe 'they staggerd'
Aglow in sickly sodium light can you replace sickly with some heat adjective?
they stumbled on in friendly knots,
each sharing legs from either side,
until the distance took them… gone. the ellipsis and gone? why not just took them home
Without the living on the streets
the silence added to the heat.
12 Midnight
Not one soul stirred, but in the rooms
with peeling walls and curtained beds,
where ceiling fans limped clanking round
in futile hope of moving air;
they lay in salt-steeped, sleeping dreams,
pickled from the inside out, and outside in.
How fitfully a toss or turn
or cough disturbs the fragile state.
Each wide-sprung eye, each bladder cry, sorry, but that wide-sprung eye and bladder cries Penis
invokes the same incanted prayer.
Just end the night, just send the dawn,
bring one more morning, cool and fair.
Thank goodness Autumn is here! Nice
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris