Youth Club Disco

[Keith]

Edit 1
Dunlop green flash whitened for the night,
Just bleached my jeans and I know they're too tight.
Down the backs drinking cans of special brew,
I still retch at the thought of necking Clandew.

We get served because my mate has a beard
and we're only 14 so that’s a bit weird.
Slapping footsteps in a drunken run,
alcohol consumed, the night has begun.

Ticket in pocket, met friends on the way,
album under arm with a great track to play.
Queued on the door but quickly inside,
the smell of stale halls where youth clubs reside.

Can’t move for kids 14 and above,
all feeling great and looking for love.
Been up to the decks so my song will get played,
'Highway to Hell' and we’re on centre stage.

The drink kicks in and my face is numb,
Lizzy are on inhibitions have gone.
Bounce through the night head banging for fun,
can’t get up to the Jam and the Pistols are on.

Avoid the psychotics whose main aim is to scrap,
stick with my mates and sit at the back.
The smoochin starts then lights blind our eyes,
it’s time to leave and we’re quickly outside.

Walking home and my mouth is dry,
shouting a song at the clear night sky.
The chip shop pilgrimage has begun,
as the lemming like hoards move as one.

Onto the high Street to watch the Silver stream fight,
police turn up so that's it for the night.
Try to be quite because I'm too young to drink
I always get caught because I'm too young to think.

Stupid grins and gravy stained shirt,
I tiptoed past parents on full alert.
Finally in bed as the room slowly spins,
Friday night vomit as the weekend begins.


Original
Dunlop green flash whitened for the night, Heavy metal badges on a wrangler and bleached jeans that are too tight.
Down the brook drinking cans of special brew, I still wrench at the thought of necking Clandew.
We get served because my mate has a beard, and we're only 14 so that’s a bit weird.
Slapping footsteps in a drunken run, alcohol consumed, the night has begun.
Ticket in pocket, met friends on the way, Album under arm, with a great track to play.
Queued on the door but quickly inside, the smell of stale halls were youth clubs reside.
Can’t move for kids 14 and above all feeling great and looking for love.
Been up to the decks so my song will get played, 'Highway to Hell' and we’re on centre stage.
The drink kicks in and my face has gone numb, Lizzy are on inhibitions have gone.
Bounce through the night head banging for fun, can’t get up to the Jam and the Pistols are on.
Avoid the psychotics whose main aim is to scrap, stick with my mates and sit at the back.
The night slows down and the main lights blind our eyes, it’s time to leave and we’re quickly outside.
Walking home and my mouth is dry, shouting a song at the clear night sky.
The chip shop pilgrimage has begun, as the lemming like hoards move as one.
Onto the high Street to watch the Silver stream fight, Police turn up so that it for the night.
Try to be quite because I'm too young to drink but I always get caught because I'm too young to think.
Stupid grins and gravy stained shirt, I tiptoed past parents on full alert.
Finally in bed as the room slowly spins, Friday night folds as the weekend begins.

[billy]

hi time

will give some feedback alter

[Keith]

Great worts and all please, I know they need alot of work just by looking at the talent on display, present company included.

[billy]

hi time
the first thing that's noticable about the poem is the leonine,or median rhyme. (Rhyme that occurs at the caesura and line end in a single line)
i'm not sure it works better than using a line break to show the rhyme, for a start it'll save you a comma in most lines. and make it visually more appealing.

Dunlop green flash whitened for the night, most people will have no idea what's being said at the very beginning of the poem, Heavy metal badges on a wrangler and bleached jeans that are too tight.
Down the brook drinking cans of special brew, I still wrench at the thought of necking Clandew.
We get served because my mate has a beard, and we're only 14 so that’s a bit weird.
Slapping footsteps in a drunken run, alcohol consumed, the night has begun.
Ticket in pocket, met friends on the way, Album under arm, with a great track to play.
Queued on the door but quickly inside, the smell of stale halls were youth clubs reside.
Can’t move for kids 14 and above all feeling great and looking for love.
Been up to the decks so my song will get played, 'Highway to Hell' and we’re on centre stage.
The drink kicks in and my face has gone numb, Lizzy are on inhibitions have gone.
Bounce through the night head banging for fun, can’t get up to the Jam and the Pistols are on.
Avoid the psychotics whose main aim is to scrap, stick with my mates and sit at the back.
The night slows down and the main lights blind our eyes, it’s time to leave and we’re quickly outside.
Walking home and my mouth is dry, shouting a song at the clear night sky.
The chip shop pilgrimage has begun, as the lemming like hoards move as one.
Onto the high Street to watch the Silver stream fight, Police turn up so that it for the night.
Try to be quite because I'm too young to drink but I always get caught because I'm too young to think.
Stupid grins and gravy stained shirt, I tiptoed past parents on full alert.
Finally in bed as the room slowly spins, Friday night folds as the weekend begins.

take excess words out where you can. the poem feels as though it wants to have some ordered meter, Leanne explains meter here and it's worth a read. at present it feels like a free verse poem with rhyme. it has a lot going for it. mainly lots of original images or narrative.

Friday night folds as the weekend begins. is a good line on it's own
Finally in bed as the room slowly spins, is an all too common phrase.

the grammar could also do with a going over; mainly for missed commas.
on the whole an enjoyable read with need of a strong edit.

thanks for the read.

[Leanne]

Dunlop green flash whitened for the night, Heavy metal badges on a wrangler and bleached jeans that are too tight.
Down the brook drinking cans of special brew, I still wrench at the thought of necking Clandew. -- retch?
We get served because my mate has a beard, and we're only 14 so that’s a bit weird. -- love this image
Slapping footsteps in a drunken run, alcohol consumed, the night has begun.
Ticket in pocket, met friends on the way, Album under arm, with a great track to play.
Queued on the door but quickly inside, the smell of stale halls were youth clubs reside.
Can’t move for kids 14 and above all feeling great and looking for love.
Been up to the decks so my song will get played, 'Highway to Hell' and we’re on centre stage.
The drink kicks in and my face has gone numb, Lizzy are on inhibitions have gone. -- gone is used twice here, maybe "turned numb"?
Bounce through the night head banging for fun, can’t get up to the Jam and the Pistols are on.
Avoid the psychotics whose main aim is to scrap, stick with my mates and sit at the back.
The night slows down and the main lights blind our eyes, it’s time to leave and we’re quickly outside.
Walking home and my mouth is dry, shouting a song at the clear night sky.
The chip shop pilgrimage has begun, as the lemming like hoards move as one.
Onto the high Street to watch the Silver stream fight, Police turn up so that it for the night.
Try to be quite because I'm too young to drink but I always get caught because I'm too young to think. -- quiet
Stupid grins and gravy stained shirt, I tiptoed past parents on full alert.
Finally in bed as the room slowly spins, Friday night folds as the weekend begins.

Whoa, blasts from the past abound here! Clan Dew was something like Stone's Mac, I believe... a wonderfully awfully horrible brew of god-knows-what that pretended to be distantly related to whisky I really enjoyed the scene (yours, not the actual scene, that's best forgotten!).

Overall, the meter could be tightened up but you set a good pace. To fix it fully wouldn't actually take that much effort, but it's too much for me to tackle in mild critique

Thanks for the read.

[billy]

there's a lot in this one that have many of my memories in them
though thin lizzy were never my thing.

[Leanne]

though thin lizzy were never my thing.

Bite your tongue, man... the boys will be back in town one day...

besides, all is forgiven in a poem that mentions AC/DC

Now stop or those nasty admins will come and put red pen all over the post for side-tracking...

[billy]

okay .
i do think splitting the lines would help you see the poem more easily
which would in turn help with any edit...the lines could always revert back to their original layout after any editing.

[Leanne]

I disagree actually. I quite like the long lines, I'd just like to see them smoothed out a bit. And I do love the internal rhymes, especially since they're not all perfect rhymes but there's some assonance thrown in there as well. If it was split up into couplets, some of that slightly manic feeling would be lost (but I could only be saying that because I've used similar styles in the past and enjoyed it)

[billy]

which is why i said they could be rejoined after tidying up the meter.

[Leanne]

Either/or

So, to summarise: if you'd like a hand tidying up the meter, give us a shout!

[Keith]

Lots to try and understand and some work to do, thanks for the help. I shall return.

[Keith]

Ps. you are correct Clan dew is a blend of white wine and whiskey, he says with a shudder.