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Down Lovers Lane (Free verse) by Mr Pig Tears flowed down the ravines of my arid cheeks,
As my fluvial eyes watched you leave.
In the darkness of the feint long shadow you cast,
You failed to look behind,
Its over.
I grieved.
Down lovers lane I return to where we used to meet,
Where woven headlights lit the glade,
We would writhe naked,
Alive in something sacred,
As fairies in dandelionâs played.
I stand here now amidst the dry death of leaves,
With the banshees of the fallen from deciduous trees,
And see our names carved in diseased sycamore,
Memories never felt this cruel before.
Love is not a constant,
Love is an instant,
And love favors the weak,
They are the dreamers like me who weep.
Tangerine skies peel to dusk,
And on Lovers Lane â the sound of car engines purr
The silver of moon has turned to rust,
The arid airs embalmed in myrhh,
And lovers make vows to each other incognito,
As I walk past, loves widow.
Up the ladder:
a study in blossoms and beauty
Down the ladder:
Driftwood
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.428571
Posted: April 8, 2003 9:23 AM PDT; Last modified: April 8, 2003 9:40 AM PDTWeighted score: 6.044369 Overall Rank: 1223 Comments:
[8]
god'swife @ 209.178.177.176
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8-Apr-03/9:32 AM
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Reply
Very sweet, in a good way, but slightly over the top at the start. I have to go marketing right now but wanted to take a look, I'll be back later. I like it, lot's of simile and metaphor, my favorites, welcome back. I think you mean 'window' at the end.
Hey its Porkypig? why d'yah never vote an any of my stuff huh?
This is cool pigface.
You watery spermed little maggot I do not have a pigface. You are a very juvenile and vacuous shrub who needs some manners. I do not and will not vote on your work because it is appallingly distasteful, misogynistic and basically rubbish. Now be gone you cretin.
When you say that when the pink panther theme is playing it seems like you're saying it in the clouseau voice and it sounds really great.
Looks mostly excellent but I have some Q&A on this be back tomorrow.
It is obvious that shadows feint, that is why they are shadows. I am not sure you need to tell the reader that. "fairies in dandelionâs" - what the hell are these. You cannot have realist images and throw these oddities in. It does not work. Even with some of the unabashedly overdramatic langue. "dry death of leaves" = again like the shadow image, there seems to be too much language here. The reader knows that dry leaves are obviously dead. Love is not a constant,
"Love is an instant, And love favors the weak, They are the dreamers like me who weep" = you change the context with these lines into a telling montage, which comes off as some sort of didactical statement. What is the purpose of telling the reader these things? Why not let the poem show them without the author butting in and telling the reader how he feels. Engines purr? The end just rips into pure sap, which ultimately makes the poem fail, but with a rewrite and a lessing of tone and making the context clear (i.e. this is an adult flashing back at his first lost love? Only the Sycamore tree, which is a cliche, shows this. If it is an adult-to-adult relation then the Sycamore tree, which is a cliche, makes it seem young and trite). Sort out the context and maybe you will find the poem in here.
good wordplay as ever
great flow A few cliches near the end 'tangerine skies' and 'moon turns to rust' doesn't seem to mean anything. I dont think the poem would lose much if you binned them. As for dandelion fairies, a perfectly fair description.
"and 'moon turns to rust' doesn't seem to mean anything."
NO, I CAN'T IMAGINE WHAT THAT MEANS. COULD IT PERHAPS MEAN THAT THE "SILVER"-COLOURED MOON CHANGES ITS COLOUR TO "RUST"-COLOURED? I REALISE THAT INTERPRETATION IS A BIT TOO STRAIGHTFORWARD FOR THE TASTES OF REFINED POETES BUT SOMETIMES THERE'S JUST NO WAY TO POINTLESSLY OBSCURE THE MEANING.
Sure right it is. But what is it. Tinkerbell? A bee? Puc? Hmmm. Or just a goofy image. Yes, I think that is it. No wonder half of the images in your poems don't make any sense. especially if you are trying to put words together thinking "of, coll, that sound good" and in reality when put into an image doesn't make sense. This poem is talking about a real context. All the other images follow in that line. So where does a dandelion fairy fit in? You tell me. Think of the image in the context of the poem.
po-etand knowit dandelions are not out of place on a 'lane' and dandelion fairies are the seeds we used to blow when we were younger with laughter .....
Do you remember laughter dark angel i know turn to rust refers to the moon turning rust coloured but why would it do that had it gorged on its own cheese? Anyway these were two very small points in the poem anyway ta ta
A short poem to commemorate my morning:
A young man of passions quite gingery Tore a hole in his sisters best lingerie He slapped her behind And made up his mind To add incest to insult and injury
Thank you all for your constructive comments. I wrote this as a young fry and PAKI thank you for your time in studying this. It was written more like a sonnet and a testament to naivity in love.
God Speed. Dark Angel, did you ever watch crazylegs crane? (it was on after the pink panther cartoon?
I can't say I did. He sounds like a fag.
We like the moon. the moon is way high in the sky!
this would make a good song lyric, but not as good as the we like the moon song.
very nice bud, however not as inspirational as the blooding, but still as a concept piece, pretty damn fuckin fine.
I think i agree with poet andknowit, there's soemthing too highly-wrought about this. i think if it relaxed more there would be more tnederness to it; as it is, it plays like a very artificial masquerade of love's conventions. Individual lines I like very much ('Alive in something sacred' is great) but altogether I feel it's too forced and sometimes melodramatic (our names carved in a diseased sycamore/ Memories never felt this cruel before' - further weakened by the facile rhyme). But there is something real here which I think you uncover elsewhere ('The Blooding').
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