The Gates of Hell

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Today I stood at the Gates of Hell.
Not in truth, but at an exhibit
In a garden
In a place where flowers are the grass.

How odd to stand at the Gates of Hell
In a place so angelic,
It just might as well
Be Heaven.

And as I stood at the Gates of Hell,
Horrible scenes played in my mind
Like some sort of
mental slideshow.

Pictures of screaming women
Flash in front of my eyes.
A frog-like man, hunched over,
Shielding his face from the world.
Three small children Huddle in a corner,
As insults and objects
Bounce off the walls.

Although beautiful,
Never again will I venture
Back to that paradise,
Where the Gates of Hell stand erect.
So tall, so close,
I can almost touch them…

~Inspired by the “Gates of Hell” statue at Stanford
Last edited by veronicafletcher on Thu Apr 05, 2007 4:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Sleeping and being dead are basically the same thing. Except when you're dead, you don't wake up. Ever. Even when your alarm clock rings.

-Ryan Zlock




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I really like this poem. Its abstract but very easy to understand. I think you worked hard on this it very good.
I like it, no I LOVE IT!!!
Charlotte




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I think that you should consider the use of stanzas when you are writing, I think that this poem in several stanzas would work better than it does as it is.

I enjoyed the repetition of the "Gates of Hell", I think that if you decided to consider stanzas that breaking the lines into stanzas at these points would be the best choice.

The description was interesting and I like the new aspect that was brought to the Gates of Hell through the comparison to Heaven.

The description later on,

Horrible scenes played in my mind
Like some sort of
mental slideshow.
Pictures of screaming women
Flash in front of my eyes.
A frog-like man,
Hunched over,
Shielding his face from the world.
Three small children
Huddle in a corner,
As insults and objects
Bounce off the walls.

Is good again and creates a very graphic picture - just consider changing some of the line breaks. I don't quite understand you choice of line breaks at the moment, maybe you could explain it to me?

Overall it was a very nice and surreal piece.
Sing we for joy and idleness,
Naught else is worth the having. -- Ezra Pound

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This is really good.

I think you could of showed more contrast between the beautiful garden and the horrible images.

A great piece,
Alainna
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Sanity is for the unimaginative.

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