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In the hollow (rough) (Free verse) by ecargo
All that summer long, I ran, when I was 10, with windmill arms and wind-snatched breath, my brown, bare legs flashing quick and crosshatched with careless pricker scrapes; danced one-two double spinning rhythms, casting small-girl spells on the blacktop and across the verge, in among the dark boles, tapping in and out, double-time, running hollows, where the newts splashed out in the wet green hours, and I grew to know the pussy willow spring and seed-pod autumn, growing round and alien; knew the briar-tangle den, where, gone to ground, I lay hidden from the hard hands and jagged voices and dreamed green underwater dreams as the evening drew out long and violet, and the night creatures sang their soft night songs as the dusk wrapped itself around us.

Down the ladder: The secret press

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Arithmetic Mean: 8.714286
Weighted score: 5.998925
Overall Rank: 1307
Posted: September 20, 2006 10:40 AM PDT; Last modified: September 20, 2006 10:40 AM PDT
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elderking

Comments:
[8] Ranger @ 81.158.79.172 | 20-Sep-06/12:26 PM | Reply
Love the content, don't love the mixed stresses at the line ends (you can tell I've been reading about this stuff, can't you? Credit/blame must go to Stephen Fry) - you could get away with all feminine endings in the first stanza (representing the little girl) but in stanza 2 where you talk about 'hard hands' and 'jagged voices' I'd make the line end sharply. Can't complain about the imagery though, and the language, as always, is beautiful :-)
[n/a] ecargo @ 167.219.88.140 > Ranger | 21-Sep-06/2:07 PM | Reply
Also good points (as usual)--I broke the lines pretty indiscriminately. I think it wants to rhyme (or maybe I want rhymes--I'm never sure if I'm driving or along for the ride). Thanks!
[8] Ranger @ 86.142.241.113 > ecargo | 21-Sep-06/2:13 PM | Reply
Rhymes would sit well with this; go zodiac-style and throw them throughout just to keep it flowing. I worry that if you just went for end-rhymes it would take attention away from the rest of the piece which would be a shame, as it's lovely.
[n/a] ecargo @ 167.219.88.140 > Ranger | 21-Sep-06/2:20 PM | Reply
Thanks--it does need some cutting in places I think. I usually let rhymes fall where they will, unless I'm writing to a strict form (and even then I usually prefer slant/near rhymes)--it's fresher, less, stilted, to do so, I think.
[9] dvincent @ 71.109.114.41 | 20-Sep-06/4:30 PM | Reply
Ecargo

This is nice, dreamy, lyrical poem with some intersting memories and vivid descriptions. And you've gone for the fine detail, the wonderful small things (... brown, bare legs...crosshatched with careless priker scrapes..." and (...tapping in and out, double-time running hollows..) We don't often think about these, but they're what makes the poem a very intimate and honest expereince.

You also have some choices that are a little too easy (e.g. we think of them right away) "...hard hands and jagged voices..." "pussy-willow spring..." "sang their soft night songs..." These have no suprise or punch. Hold out for the fresh surprises, not the "usual".

Good poem!
[n/a] ecargo @ 167.219.88.140 > dvincent | 21-Sep-06/1:57 PM | Reply
Good crits--thanks very much for the comment and the read. Hoping to polish this a little at some point.
[9] elderking @ 172.194.201.130 | 21-Sep-06/3:30 PM | Reply
gramma's house for summer vacation...your words took me there. I was 10 again for just a moment. Very good.
[5] Edna Sweetlove @ 85.210.243.148 | 23-Sep-06/7:19 PM | Reply
What sort of word is "pricker", sweetie? The rest shows promise.
[8] Ranger @ 86.145.25.247 > Edna Sweetlove | 24-Sep-06/4:41 AM | Reply
Ever heard of a dictionary?
[n/a] ecargo @ 167.219.88.140 > Edna Sweetlove | 25-Sep-06/9:40 AM | Reply
How kind! ;) Pricker is a colloquialism (I guess) for a briar or a thorn. We called briar patches "pricker bushes" in my little part of the world.
[n/a] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 | 29-Sep-06/1:39 PM | Reply
"flashing quick and crosshatched with careless
pricker scrapes;"

oooh. ooh. ooh.
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