A Ship Launch - Edit 1 Dukealien, Kolemath

[Magpie]

Edit 1 - Dukealien, Kolemath

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated along
buoyantly down into Swan Hunter's shipyard.

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat,
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us."

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder. 
Standing there in astonishment I absorbed it all.

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench,
colliding steel clatters the seagull's screech.
Acetylene flames spit sparks against the sun
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Boisterous klaxons scream a pathway clear,
forklift trucks scurry between the legs of cranes.
Frenzied shouts deliver instructions
as dismantled scaffolding collects in a heap.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it burns.
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads.

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre round which all else orbited
HMS Ark Royal stood silent, slumbering on the slipway
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil.

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
set to strike should she still need a final shackling
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation 
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

Lost in swirling thoughts of ships at sea
I missed the crescendo countdown,
bottle smash and cheering.
A hand shaking my shoulder brought me back ashore
just in time to see the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning.
Gathering unstoppable momentum.
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a wave surging towards the far bank.

Then, without warning
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that hid everything from view.

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness.

A decayed wasteland, half a decade's dilapidation.

Workers, wizards, fond well-wishers vanished
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm-battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth
the whole damn forest all upended.
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years.

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands out
the last of the food we brought for them.




Original

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated buoyantly
two by two down into Swan Hunter's shipyard.

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat,
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us."

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder 
the place where I stood with senses alive.

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench,
colliding steel clatters the seagulls screech.
Acetylene flames spit sparks into the sun
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Cacophonous klaxons scream a pathway clear,
huge sentinel cranes swivel, pivot and rise.
Synchronised forklifts pirouette on an axis
as dismantled scaffolding is thrown onto a heap,

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it fires.
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads.

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre around which everything else orbited
the Ark Royal stood silently slumbering on the slipway
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil.

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
poised to pounce should she still need a final shackling
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation 
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

I don't remember waiting,
or the passage of time.
No countdown crescendo. 
No flag fluttering fanfare.
No building of anticipation and precipice
drop.
No bottle swinging concussed,
helpless at the end of a rope.

I remember the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning.
Gathering an unstoppable momentum.
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a tumultuous wave surging towards the far bank.

Then, without warning
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that obscured everything from view.

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness.

A decayed wasteland, half a decades dilapidation.

Workers, wizards, well wishers all vanished
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth
the whole damn forest completely upended.
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years.

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands
out the last of the food we brought for them.

[dukealien]

Very enjoyable (in a bittersweet way).  Specifics interlinear, overal workshopping below.

A Ship Launch

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.  Nice combination of dialect and message, implying the eager ship would launch herself
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles  "nautical" is good, I see it as more about the eyes than the mouth
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated buoyantly  good matching imagery, "buoyantly" indicating holiday mood.  On third reading, it's a small town but could a few hundred flood its streets?  More like sluicing through...
two by two down into Swan Hunter's shipyard.  "two by two" implies yours was not the only dad-and-lad, but remains a bit cliche

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock  Hailing from the US, the theme of this verse and part of the next seems odd:  I see royalty as harmless and potentially inspiring rather than a foil for inspiration.  If that's your message, though, it's well expressed.
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat,
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us."

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder 
the place where I stood with senses alive.  Though I can't put my finger on it, "alive" seems to need  more thrill - different word, or an adjective to intensify?

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench,
colliding steel clatters the seagulls screech.  Needs a comma, or perhaps an apostrophe appended to "seagulls" to make it possessive and "clatters" interestingly transitive.
Acetylene flames spit sparks into the sun  I see sparks against rather than into, just me.
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp.  Can this be modified to eliminate the "a" ?

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Cacophonous klaxons scream a pathway clear,  "Cacaphonous" seems a bit much (IMHO); making "scream" transitive is good
huge sentinel cranes swivel, pivot and rise.  This and the next two lines seem a bit clumsy, which may be intentional:  heavy machinery is not kung-fu fighters.  A suggestion:  could the sentinel cranes be presenting arms?
Synchronised forklifts pirouette on an axis
as dismantled scaffolding is thrown onto a heap,

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.  Good repetition.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it fires.  "fires" is unexpected - "burns?"
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove  Lovely how the line rhythm matches the content here.
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground.  Another imaginative transitive ("trembles").

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads.

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre around which everything else orbited  Could be smoothed with "'round" and "all" for "around" and "everything."
the Ark Royal stood silently slumbering on the slipway  I itch to remove that initial "the" and replace "silently" with "silent" and a comma.  Just a thought.
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil.  Suggest "forge for "anvil?"

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
poised to pounce should she still need a final shackling  Took me until this last word to realize you were talking about chains here - nice buildup
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation 
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

I don't remember waiting,
or the passage of time.
No countdown crescendo. 
No flag fluttering fanfare.  This line doesn't work for me, though it's original.
No building of anticipation and precipice
drop.
No bottle swinging concussed,  I find this line and the next odd, perhaps intended to turn the aspect of pride around.
helpless at the end of a rope.  Suggestion:  "at a rope's end" (sounds more nautical to me (g) )

I remember the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning.
Gathering an unstoppable momentum.  Could "an" be eliminated?
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a tumultuous wave surging towards the far bank.  "tumultuous" breaks up the wave here a bit, IMHO.

Then, without warning
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that obscured everything from view.  Different word for "obscured?"

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness.

A decayed wasteland, half a decades dilapidation.  decade's

Workers, wizards, well wishers all vanished  "fond well-wishers vanished" just for the flow?
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed  "storm-battered?"
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth  very nice line
the whole damn forest completely upended.  "all" for "completely?"
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years.

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands
out the last of the food we brought for them.  I don't quite see the purpose of placing "out" on this line rather than the last.

A lot of suggestions, offered with hopes that even one will be found useful.  It's a good poem, keeps the reader's attention and sympathy (in my case even empathy).   As I understand it, the yard cranes and other equipment were eventually knocked down and set up again in India.

A contrasting poem on ship-breaking (running old ships up on the mud in Bangladesh, then taking them apart) could be interesting.  Not for me:  I lack first-hand knowledge, other than looking over the wrecks on Point Arguello.

[Magpie]

Thanks for the critique Dukealien, you've made a lot of excellent suggestions. You know this is the first time I've posted a poem in the 'Serious' forum—it's only taken me just over three years—so I suppose I am somewhat apprehensive about what the response may be. So I am very pleased to see this as the first response, thank you it's very much appreciated.

Very enjoyable (in a bittersweet way).  Specifics interlinear, overal workshopping below.

A Ship Launch

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.  Nice combination of dialect and message, implying the eager ship would launch herself
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles  "nautical" is good, I see it as more about the eyes than the mouth -- That wasn't my initial thought but it is the perfect way to see it
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated buoyantly  good matching imagery, "buoyantly" indicating holiday mood.  On third reading, it's a small town but could a few hundred flood its streets?  More like sluicing through... -- Good point about flooding Wallsend as a whole... The image of crowded streets I have is of the streets closer to the shipyard and I also think I went for the shipping/nautical linked images like flooded, floated and buoyant without fully considering the implications. I'll rethink it.
two by two down into Swan Hunter's shipyard.  "two by two" implies yours was not the only dad-and-lad, but remains a bit cliche -- Ah, the 'two by two' was a reference to the ship's name the Ark but I see how it can be misunderstood and seen as cliche. Also just to clarify Granda is a Grandfather and not a Dad, I actually think that it may be a 'Geordie' (my dialect) word and it may cause some confusion - I'll look into it.

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock  Hailing from the US, the theme of this verse and part of the next seems odd:  I see royalty as harmless and potentially inspiring rather than a foil for inspiration.  If that's your message, though, it's well expressed. -- I need to remind myself about these culture differences, although here it is fine because I haven't said anything that would be classed as anti-royal. I think that the class system and class identity is a lot stronger in Britain and a lot of 'outsiders' may find it odd or without reason. The working classes are extremely proud and passionate about being working class. We don't hate royalty... but as a scenario to have a royal, the Queen Mother no less in one of the most un-royal places possible is a bit quirky and bizarre. I couldn't not mention it.
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat,
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us." -- This may seem odd to wonder, but I presume the dialect caused no trouble in understanding if you didn't mention it. Actually now that I've said that I've noticed 'son' which is why you possibly thought it was father and son. That's a geordie thing as well, anyone older than you will call you 'son' if you're a male...I may think on it

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder 
the place where I stood with senses alive.  Though I can't put my finger on it, "alive" seems to need  more thrill - different word, or an adjective to intensify? -- Yeah, I was never happy with this line and I kind of compromised too easily. It needs rewriting

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench,
colliding steel clatters the seagulls screech.  Needs a comma, or perhaps an apostrophe appended to "seagulls" to make it possessive and "clatters" interestingly transitive.
Acetylene flames spit sparks into the sun  I see sparks against rather than into, just me. -- Technically you are right and I don't know why I said 'into' but there's something about it that I like. Possibly the comparable power between the sun and welding sparks to a seven year old.
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp.  Can this be modified to eliminate the "a" ? -- I'll give it a shot

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Cacophonous klaxons scream a pathway clear,  "Cacaphonous" seems a bit much (IMHO); making "scream" transitive is good
huge sentinel cranes swivel, pivot and rise.  This and the next two lines seem a bit clumsy, which may be intentional:  heavy machinery is not kung-fu fighters.  A suggestion:  could the sentinel cranes be presenting arms? -- I spent so long on this stanza and going back to it over and again, and still I wasn't completely happy with it. The cranes being 'sentinels' was an early idea that I never developed yet I seem to have taken the word perhaps without good reason.
Synchronised forklifts pirouette on an axis
as dismantled scaffolding is thrown onto a heap,

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.  Good repetition.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it fires.  "fires" is unexpected - "burns?"
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove  Lovely how the line rhythm matches the content here.
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground.  Another imaginative transitive ("trembles").

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads.

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre around which everything else orbited  Could be smoothed with "'round" and "all" for "around" and "everything." -- Excellent - I agree - it reads so much better - cheers for that one
the Ark Royal stood silently slumbering on the slipway  I itch to remove that initial "the" and replace "silently" with "silent" and a comma.  Just a thought. -- Ark Royal on it its own as a name doesn't sound right, however I like your idea and there is another way of achieving it by replacing 'the' with HMS which would be her proper title HMS Ark Royal. I was in some ways trying to avoid it because I wanted the ship to be the most important and powerful character. To call it Her Majesty's Ship might alter that.
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil.  Suggest "forge for "anvil?" -- I think I would if 'forge' didn't have a meaning also criminal counterfeiting.

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
poised to pounce should she still need a final shackling  Took me until this last word to realize you were talking about chains here - nice buildup
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation 
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

I don't remember waiting,
or the passage of time.
No countdown crescendo. 
No flag fluttering fanfare.  This line doesn't work for me, though it's original.
No building of anticipation and precipice
drop.
No bottle swinging concussed,  I find this line and the next odd, perhaps intended to turn the aspect of pride around. -- Yeah, don't know what was going here with the bottle. I think I just lost the plot for a bit.
helpless at the end of a rope.  Suggestion:  "at a rope's end" (sounds more nautical to me (g) )

I remember the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning.
Gathering an unstoppable momentum.  Could "an" be eliminated? -- Definitely
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a tumultuous wave surging towards the far bank.  "tumultuous" breaks up the wave here a bit, IMHO.

Then, without warning
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that obscured everything from view.  Different word for "obscured?"

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness.

A decayed wasteland, half a decades dilapidation.  decade's

Workers, wizards, well wishers all vanished  "fond well-wishers vanished" just for the flow?
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed  "storm-battered?"
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth  very nice line
the whole damn forest completely upended.  "all" for "completely?"
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years. -- I agree with all of these little changes of words or punctuation that you've suggested.

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands
out the last of the food we brought for them.  I don't quite see the purpose of placing "out" on this line rather than the last.

A lot of suggestions, offered with hopes that even one will be found useful. -- There's a hell of lot more than just one useful suggestion, there are many It's a good poem, keeps the reader's attention and sympathy (in my case even empathy).   As I understand it, the yard cranes and other equipment were eventually knocked down and set up again in India. -- Yes, it's strange to think that this is possible. The Tyne river was world famous for building ships. There was one version of the poem that had the line "we've always built ships, that's what we do" and for many many years that was true but all of our industry suffered partly due to a conservative government and partly to do with asian countries being able to build ships a lot cheaper. And they are mega efficient, I read this on wikipedia the other day, "South Korea's shipyards are highly efficient, with the world's largest shipyard in Ulsan operated by Hyundai Heavy Industries slipping a newly built, $80 million vessel into the water every four working days." Truly staggering.
We used to lead the world in supplying coal and that died too. 
The world changes always, but some things are hard to let go, heritage is very important.

A contrasting poem on ship-breaking (running old ships up on the mud in Bangladesh, then taking them apart) could be interesting.  Not for me:  I lack first-hand knowledge, other than looking over the wrecks on Point Arguello.

Thanks for the excellent critique, I will post an edit within the next week.

Much appreciated,

Mark

[dukealien]

Very happy to have been some help.

Had no trouble with the dialect passages or terms.  Some might; no reason to change them.

Missed "two by two" reference to the original gopher-wood Ark, perhaps because the name hadn't come up in the reading yet at that point.

That problematic article:  leaving off "the" before a (naval) ship's name could be elitist; not being a naval person, I don't know what the actual usage is (probably usiing "the" since there's only going to be one ship of a given name at one time).  However, both the US and French Navies include (or have at one time included) the article as part of some ships' names - USS The Sullivans, Le Mars, La Palme - and I see naval writers leaving off the article unless it's so included.  It may be pretentious to leave it off; I don't know.

[kolemath]

This poem is great! colloquial, philosophical, nostalgic, I really enjoyed this snapshot of time which has implications far beyond the day the poem captures. minor suggestions and complements follow:

A Ship Launch

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated buoyantly
two by two down into Swan Hunter's shipyard. great use of water-related terms in this stanza

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat, ha! "bonny.." I just saw this work in "As You Like It" describing a 'sturdy prize fighter' ..today the dictionary says bonny=beautiful, but i love the irony of a something both sturdy and frilly (ah, semantic shift..)
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us." great contrast of characters here

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal OK maybe my reading is polluted by shakespeare but this flip of syntax reminds me of Touchstone from the same play (intentional?)
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder 
the place where I stood with senses alive. might this setting and exposition of place and character be introduced earlier? it works well for me as S2?

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench,
colliding steel clatters the seagulls screech.
Acetylene flames spit sparks into the sun
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp. should 'thunders' be in past tense?

A rhythm, a pulse, alive. I'm a fan of repetition, but I'm not sure how to interpret this line. is a pulse too a rhythm? what's alive?

Cacophonous klaxons scream a pathway clear,
huge sentinel cranes swivel, pivot and rise.
Synchronised forklifts pirouette on an axis great diction
as dismantled scaffolding is thrown onto a heap,

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it fires.
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground. I second the comment on rhythm; smart work, turning shipyard noise into music

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads. again, exposition of setting and characters earlier in the poem? let the event move straight through these stanzas?

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre around which everything else orbited
the Ark Royal stood silently slumbering on the slipway
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil. great diction

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
poised to pounce should she still need a final shackling do snakes pounce or strike?
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation more great diction and metaphor
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

I don't remember waiting,
or the passage of time.
No countdown crescendo. 
No flag fluttering fanfare.
No building of anticipation and precipice
drop.
No bottle swinging concussed,
helpless at the end of a rope. I like this stanza in and of itself, but it seems to contradict the 'building of anticipation' and 'crescendo' which (to me) are the function of previous stanzas.

I remember the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning.
Gathering an unstoppable momentum.
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a tumultuous wave surging towards the far bank. this stanza does smart work at capturing the enormous action of a ship launch, but is 'tumultuous' too latin and formal for the work of a shipyard? (seconding the previous comment on this line)

Then, without warning
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin way to carry the metaphor across stanzas
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that obscured everything from view.

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness. also a fan of line breaks, (don't tell uselessblueprint). 

A decayed wasteland, half a decades dilapidation.

Workers, wizards, well wishers all vanished
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth
the whole damn forest completely upended.
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years. this stanza is smart to offer critical commentary on the environmental (and human) impact of such large-scale endeavors (while also establishing strong contrast, a calm after the storm sort of effect, to mix metaphors)

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands
out the last of the food we brought for them.

[Magpie]

This poem is great! colloquial, philosophical, nostalgic, I really enjoyed this snapshot of time which has implications far beyond the day the poem captures. minor suggestions and complements follow:

A Ship Launch

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated buoyantly
two by two down into Swan Hunter's shipyard. great use of water-related terms in this stanza

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat, ha! "bonny.." I just saw this work in "As You Like It" describing a 'sturdy prize fighter' ..today the dictionary says bonny=beautiful, but i love the irony of a something both sturdy and frilly (ah, semantic shift..)
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us." great contrast of characters here

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal OK maybe my reading is polluted by shakespeare but this flip of syntax reminds me of Touchstone from the same play (intentional?) -- Accidental
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder 
the place where I stood with senses alive. might this setting and exposition of place and character be introduced earlier? it works well for me as S2? -- I see what you mean -- I'll give it some thought

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench,
colliding steel clatters the seagulls screech.
Acetylene flames spit sparks into the sun
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp. should 'thunders' be in past tense?

A rhythm, a pulse, alive. I'm a fan of repetition, but I'm not sure how to interpret this line. is a pulse too a rhythm? what's alive? -- I'm trying to say that the whole shipyard is like a living creature and I suppose it has more effect when contrasted with the end of the poem where it is dead. It was also supposed to have the rhythm of a heart beat but I've noticed that 'A rhythm' has 3 beats as opposed to the others that have 2 beats -- A medical checkup will be in order

Cacophonous klaxons scream a pathway clear,
huge sentinel cranes swivel, pivot and rise.
Synchronised forklifts pirouette on an axis great diction
as dismantled scaffolding is thrown onto a heap,

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it fires.
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground. I second the comment on rhythm; smart work, turning shipyard noise into music -- Thanks for noticing this, I'm delighted that it works. I've worked in the dockyards and at some point without realising it the brain takes all the sounds and turns them into music of some sort. Although I would choose nature all the time I can still find a type of [b]beauty in industry somehow.[/b]

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads. again, exposition of setting and characters earlier in the poem? let the event move straight through these stanzas?

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre around which everything else orbited
the Ark Royal stood silently slumbering on the slipway
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil. great diction

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
poised to pounce should she still need a final shackling do snakes pounce or strike? -- Excellent point -- I'll rethink it
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation more great diction and metaphor
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

I don't remember waiting,
or the passage of time.
No countdown crescendo. 
No flag fluttering fanfare.
No building of anticipation and precipice
drop.
No bottle swinging concussed,
helpless at the end of a rope. I like this stanza in and of itself, but it seems to contradict the 'building of anticipation' and 'crescendo' which (to me) are the function of previous stanzas. -- Yeah, I need to ask what purpose this stanza serves. I intended it as an aid to the time frame. It couldn't go from everyone working and busy straight to the ship launch without a period of quieting down -- I'm not sure that it serves that purpose well enough -- but as an aside I also like the stanza in and of itself - Perhaps a short poem may eventually be born from it

I remember the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning.
Gathering an unstoppable momentum.
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a tumultuous wave surging towards the far bank. this stanza does smart work at capturing the enormous action of a ship launch, but is 'tumultuous' too latin and formal for the work of a shipyard? (seconding the previous comment on this line) -- Agreed - tumultuous is too much

Then, without warning
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin way to carry the metaphor across stanzas
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that obscured everything from view.

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness. also a fan of line breaks, (don't tell uselessblueprint).    -- Don't worry your secret is safe 

A decayed wasteland, half a decades dilapidation.

Workers, wizards, well wishers all vanished
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth
the whole damn forest completely upended.
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years. this stanza is smart to offer critical commentary on the environmental (and human) impact of such large-scale endeavors (while also establishing strong contrast, a calm after the storm sort of effect, to mix metaphors)

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands
out the last of the food we brought for them.

Thanks for reading and your observations Kolemath. I will be doing an edit very soon and everything will be taken into consideration. Much appreciated.

Mark

[Magpie]

I have posted a revised version 
—Thank you to Dukealien and Kolemath

[kolemath]

Hey, Mark, this revision works well, especially in the clarity of the narrative. I've only commented on a few stanzas below because most of this works very well under my eyes.

[quote='ambrosial revelation' pid='211944' dateline='1465455983']
Edit 1 - Dukealien, Kolemath

When I was seven my Granda took me to see a ship launch.
Hundreds of folk with union jacks and nautical smiles
flooded the streets of Wallsend and floated along
buoyantly down into Swan Hunter's shipyard. I like the line break revision here

The Queen Mother was there in a posh frock
and some said she looked bonny in her frilly hat,
but Granda said, "Cannit see it meesel son 
and anyways the days bonny enuff for us."

We hadn't come to see the fashions of a royal
but royalty fashioned in the building of a ship I like the syntax of this line, but reading it again, the prepositional phrases which close the line weaken the effect of the wordplay. (I didn't catch this in my first reading). 'fashioned' and 'building' are a bit redundant. 'a royally fashioned ship?' i'm not sure i like that line either, but you may continue tinkering here
on the banks of the Tyne in a yard of wonder. 
Standing there in astonishment I absorbed it all. great work revising for the build up of images. this line sets up subsequent stanzas very well. think about 'astonishment' through? it's an accurate word, but is it the word of a child?

A faint salt breeze beneath the river's stench, I like this appositive (well written image), but it inaccurately modifies its sentence's subject. (according to standard grammar rules (which are fun to break sometimes)) the appositive must share a reference with the sentence's subject (e.g. breeze and steel are different referrants); you might make the line about steel an appositive too (e.g. colliding steel clattering...) just a thought..
colliding steel clatters the seagull's screech.
Acetylene flames spit sparks against the sun
as an oil drum thunders down a metal ramp.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive. the repetition works now, especially nestled between these image stanzas; I might suggest another light revision, as each word isn't parallel (e.g. rhythm/pulse are nouns but alive is adj.) might the list be parallel? (e.g. 'a yard alive/living/breathing')? then you have three nouns

Boisterous klaxons scream a pathway clear,
forklift trucks scurry between the legs of cranes.
Frenzied shouts deliver instructions
as dismantled scaffolding collects in a heap.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Electricity crackles, sparks and arcs to fuse,
the white hot welders flame rumbles as it burns.
Syncopated hammers beat a ragtime groove
as a distant pneumatic drill trembles the ground.

A rhythm, a pulse, alive.

Everywhere beaming smiles 
beneath hard hats on hard heads.

Everywhere pride.

And at the centre round which all else orbited
HMS Ark Royal stood silent, slumbering on the slipway great contrast of images
an anaesthetised behemoth soon to be awoken
and set free from the hammer and the anvil.

Enormous serpents of rust lay coiled in her shade
set to strike should she still need a final shackling
before a river baptism and the seas confirmation 
opened all points on her compass to endless horizons.

Lost in swirling thoughts of ships at sea
I missed the crescendo countdown,
bottle smash and cheering.
A hand shaking my shoulder brought me back ashore these lines complement the previous stanzas' imagery well, connecting observation and character behavior
just in time to see the skyline slowly moving
as the giant grey beast woke up moaning. great work extending the metaphor 
Gathering unstoppable momentum.
Down and down shaking the ground.
How she howled as her metal shuddered
and how she screamed the rest of the way drop 'and'? i like the rhythm of the wh-nominals on their own
until she met the river with an almighty thunderous
boom that sent a wave surging towards the far bank.

Then, without warning drop 'then,' as the idea is 'without warning?' 'then' warns the reader
there came a furious rasping hiss
and in an impetuous rage 
the serpents gave chase.

Violently jolting and shedding their skin
as they uncoiled and hurtled to the water,
leaving behind a thick cloud of rust
that hid everything from view.

Gradually

the haze cleared to reveal

emptiness.

A decayed wasteland, half a decade's dilapidation.

Workers, wizards, fond well-wishers vanished
and in their place half dismantled cranes lay strewn 
across the storm-battered yard, roofless fabrication sheds collapsed
onto seaweed carpeted slipways, scaffolding poles and pylons
toppled, power cables ripped from concrete, concrete ripped from earth
the whole damn forest all upended. with 'whole' is 'all' necessary? 
No saplings, no roots, no life except rats—bigger than ever
—and the stray cats that refuse to leave the home they've known for years.

"Wu used to build ships here ye knaa",
Granda reminds the cats as he hands out
the last of the food we brought for them.


Thanks for sharing the poem's progress!

[dukealien]

@ambrosial revelation - Good edits, incremental improvement without losing the heart. 

My eye now snags on "white hot welders torches," finding a need for a hyphen ("whte-hot") and an apostrophe ("welders' ").  Also still not feeling quite on-message about the serpent/chains, but now I know where the image is going the initial puzzlement is hard to recapture.  Maybe it's hard to believe even a couple of hundred fathoms old anchor chain could produce enough dust of rust to completely obscure the view, but I wasn't there and the poet was.

A grand day out with Granda!

[Magpie]

@Kolemath - Thank you for reading through the revision and adding your thoughts. You have made some excellent observations again that I will definitely address. You've also made what I'm certain are excellent points regarding grammar especially regarding the 'breeze and steel' stanza. I think I know what you mean about appositives and other bits but I'm going to go away and read some stuff and make sure that I do understand, the rules of grammar at that level are something I'm not familiar with but I'll work on it.
I'm glad that the major changes, like the two re-written stanzas have worked well and haven't jarred and altered the feel of the poem too much.
I'll wait a few days and then look at it fresh and then do another edit.
Thanks again, much appreciated.

Mark

@Dukealien - Thanks - I like what you say about an incremental improvement and not losing the heart. It makes sense and also it was a worry that I might lose some of the feeling that I had in the poem by editing.
It's bizarre that you should mention that particular point about whether it was feasible for chains to produce that amount of rust because I was thinking about the poem today and wondering about which parts could be questioned as not being feasible. I could give a reasonable argument for most of the poem and for the chains my reasoning would be that I saw it happen. I went to that ship launch and all I remember are the chains and watching them uncoil and the amazing sound they made and the huge cloud of rust that they left behind. I don't remember seeing the Queen Mother and to be honest the ship is a very vague memory... but them chains blew my mind and so that's the point of reference at where this poem began. Only a child could go to see a ship launch and think that the chains were the best bit. 

Thanks for the comments again, there will be another edit following at some point in the next week,

Cheers,

Mark