Unison

[ajcohen613]

Bruised pears lay strewn across the dirt,
an old man on a stroll coughs like a violent siren behind me.
Atop a hill stands a wiggling mirage –
a family of four in Sunday clothes talking about
aunt something’s honey ham last weekend somewhere.
Sunlight chokes on a sudden wind,
leafy patches of shadow take turns on my face,
the son’s brown eyes are the old man’s thick glasses.
All the sideline animals hum like an electric orchestra;
unplanned unison in the fabric of everything.
The walking senior sparks a skinny cigarette
and admires the same burgundy dahlias
I thought resembled fresh blood on a green blanket.
He smiles at me like a charming statue,
frozen for those seconds between two tally marks.
Helplessly gazing at it all, I imagine one body.
The creases in my palm tell an unfamiliar tale,
the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers going about their day.

[billy]

hi aj.

in general you have too much going on in a too unwieldy way. i get that's what your aiming for through the title but it just seems to have too much disjointedness and not enough continuity. watch out for excess;
lay strewn...no need for [lay] as it's a given

sirens usually build up slowly or stay at a constant whine (non violent); now a fog horn can scare the shit out of a body.

[
quote='ajcohen613' pid='172057' dateline='1408395772']
Bruised pears lay strewn across the dirt,
an old man on a stroll coughs like a violent siren behind me.
Atop a hill stands a wiggling mirage –
a family of four in Sunday clothes talking about
aunt something’s honey ham last weekend somewhere. i like the homey picture and the mundaness of it.
Sunlight chokes on a sudden wind, i also like this image, it's fresh and pictorial.
leafy patches of shadow take turns on my face,
the son’s brown eyes are the old man’s thick glasses. not so keen on this as i can't reconcile the two
All the sideline animals hum like an electric orchestra; [all the sideline] doesn't work to well either
unplanned unison in the fabric of everything.
The walking senior sparks a skinny cigarette
and admires the same burgundy dahlias
I thought resembled fresh blood on a green blanket.
He smiles at me like a charming statue,
frozen for those seconds between two tally marks.
Helplessly gazing at it all, I imagine one body.
The creases in my palm tell an unfamiliar tale,
the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers going about their day.
[/quote]

[ajcohen613]

Thanks to the both of you. We'll see where this goes..I wrote it in haste but felt good about it regardless.

[makeshift]

I like the premise here, and you have a lot of nice imagery. I think the way you stack little moments on top of each other gives the impression of unison, but I wonder if the effect couldn't be more pronounced or maybe streamlined??? The line "the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers" is really what made the poem make sense to me, with how it relates to to the strolling old man and all. Just my 2cents, Thnx for sharing

Bruised pears lay strewn across the dirt,
an old man on a stroll coughs like a violent siren behind me. maybe a little bit too wordy
Atop a hill stands a wiggling mirage – Not sure if wiggle is the best word here, it feels too whimsical for the poem imo imo
a family of four in Sunday clothes talking about
aunt something’s honey ham last weekend somewhere. I like how the "something's" really gives the impression of easedropping
Sunlight chokes on a sudden wind, I like how these line feels, though I have a hard time visualizing it.
leafy patches of shadow take turns on my face,
the son’s brown eyes are the old man’s thick glasses.
All the sideline animals hum like an electric orchestra;
unplanned unison in the fabric of everything.
The walking senior sparks a skinny cigarette
and admires the same burgundy dahlias
I thought resembled fresh blood on a green blanket. I like this image it made the flowers really vivid.
He smiles at me like a charming statue,
frozen for those seconds between two tally marks.
Helplessly gazing at it all, I imagine one body.
The creases in my palm tell an unfamiliar tale,
the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers going about their day. Seems like these last two lines could be joined better, but idk how.

[ajcohen613]

I like the premise here, and you have a lot of nice imagery. I think the way you stack little moments on top of each other gives the impression of unison, but I wonder if the effect couldn't be more pronounced or maybe streamlined??? The line "the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers" is really what made the poem make sense to me, with how it relates to to the strolling old man and all. Just my 2cents, Thnx for sharing

Bruised pears lay strewn across the dirt,
an old man on a stroll coughs like a violent siren behind me. maybe a little bit too wordy
Atop a hill stands a wiggling mirage – Not sure if wiggle is the best word here, it feels too whimsical for the poem imo imo
a family of four in Sunday clothes talking about
aunt something’s honey ham last weekend somewhere. I like how the "something's" really gives the impression of easedropping
Sunlight chokes on a sudden wind, I like how these line feels, though I have a hard time visualizing it.
leafy patches of shadow take turns on my face,
the son’s brown eyes are the old man’s thick glasses.
All the sideline animals hum like an electric orchestra;
unplanned unison in the fabric of everything.
The walking senior sparks a skinny cigarette
and admires the same burgundy dahlias
I thought resembled fresh blood on a green blanket. I like this image it made the flowers really vivid.
He smiles at me like a charming statue,
frozen for those seconds between two tally marks.
Helplessly gazing at it all, I imagine one body.
The creases in my palm tell an unfamiliar tale,
the atoms in my creases stroll like strangers going about their day. Seems like these last two lines could be joined better, but idk how.

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it, it was fun to write.