Grown Grass Goes Down

*One from a rotting notebook*

Grown Grass Goes Down

(1)
Living on the noon-baked grass,
"Coffee?" "No," they say, "I'll pass."
Flask so tight, liquid warm.
Pop and open, steamy storm.
Children silent,
unpicked violet.
Scalded tongue and tension violent.
Each speaks for the self, "I'll pass."
Out upon a garden o' grass.
"All grown up," the children say,
"Alas! We canst not run away!"
Tuition, coaching, party, school.
Elevator, elictric mule.
"They're in the lift."
"They're going down."
"Let's run indoors."
Down down, down down.

(2)
The machine stops whirring, and silence.
Sleep late, surfer,
and sarcy be.
Brave men mad
and weak men flee.
Hear the boxes whir and flash,
catch the tears and catch the cash.
Flatscreens, fatscreens, drunken screams.
Fat man sleeps and fat man dreams.
Fear the bristles fear the brow,
bushy deck and bushy prow.
Black paper boat, downed plane o' pink.
Who did not know that it would sink?
All the feelings down the drain,
Laugh broken, say, "Oh where's my brain?"
Fat man sleeps and fat man dreams.
The Laughing Buddha screams and screams.
Rub a little harder, kid.
"Hey boss! The loot is all well-hid."

Obituary
It is with great sadness, we say
that the Laughing Buddha hath passed away
from belly rubbing in excess.
May his memory always bless
with numbered leaves of crispy kind.
Such jolly bankers are hard to find.

(3)
Will you come out of the bathroom now?
Or has the shampoo laid you low?
The shower has you hid away
from the World. What to dance, what to play?

Come press your maze-like ear
against the bathroom door. I fear
that knocks and words will all be lost
in folds of ears, young minds of frost.

We didn't realise it when we were all young
but we looked at those who could reach a higher rung
on the monkey bar, and we thought how leaves turn brown.
Grown grass goes down.

*I don't know if you can find it in other places, but here we get a statue of a Buddha who is rather fat and is well...laughing. Apparently, if you rub his shiny belly, you get lucky (wealthy).
Here's a pic of the poor fellow:

http://www.religionfacts.com/buddhism/d ... buddha.htm

It even has ebay ads if you want to buy one.

Nice job! I like the desriptiveness of this poem. I liked most of the flow and could see Buddah screaming. Anyways...

Okay, now onto the critiques...

Scalded tongue and tension violent.

Each speaks for the self, "I'll pass."

Out upon a garden o' grass.

"All grown up," the children say,

These lines break up the flow of the poem. It makes you slow down when you read it. I had to say it to understand it.

Down down, down down.

Maybe only three downs...It breaks up the flow.

The machine stops whirring, and silence.

Sleep late, surfer,

and sarcy be.

Again, this breaks up the flow. There is nothing ryhming.

Laugh broken, say, "Oh where's my brain?"

Take out oh.

Will you come out of the bathroom now?

Or has the shampoo laid you low?

Doesn't ryhme...

We didn't realise it when we were all young

but we looked at those who could reach a higher rung

on the monkey bar, and we thought how leaves turn brown.

Grown grass goes down.

Take out all in first sentence. Revise second and third sentences.

E.g.
We didn't realise it when we were young,
but looked at those who reached higher rungs.
On monkey bars we thought of leaves turned brown.
Grown grass goes down.



Other than all this, very nice job. Keep up the work!

This was really good! It drew me in! I loved the description you used in this poem!

Nice job!

Paw

Hello! I'm just gonna jump right in...

Children silent,
unpicked violet.
Scalded tongue and tension violent.

You should probably change violet in here to another flower. The closeness between 'violet' and 'violent' makes these two lines kind of awkward.

"Alas! We canst not run away!"
Tuition, coaching, party, school.
Elevator, elictric mule.

I really liked the 'canst' in there because it gives the poem a very old-fashioned feel... until I read the next two lines. "Old English" and elevators, parties, and electric mules don't really mix well. So either take out the 'canst' or take out the modern stuff.

Hear the boxes whir and flash,

You already used the word 'whir' earlier in this poem. You may want to find another word to take it's place to give some variety.

Fat man sleeps and fat man dreams.
The Laughing Buddha screams and screams.
Rub a little harder, kid.
"Hey boss! The loot is all well-hid."

These four lines are by far my favorite lines out of all of the poems. I don't really know why... it's almost kind of funny. I think of the Buddha rolling on the floor laughing and gasping for breath and people rub and tickle his fat belly. I don't know if that's what you meant by "screams and screams", but that's the way I interpret it. I also like the "Rub a little harder, kid" part, because I imagine a child rubbing the buddha's stomach in vain, wanting that wealth. Again, that may not have been what you meant, but I see it that way.

Come press your maze-like ear

Very, very nice.

We didn't realise it when we were all young
but we looked at those who could reach a higher rung
on the monkey bar, and we thought how leaves turn brown.
Grown grass goes down.

Maybe I'm just a dope, but I didn't understand this line. I read it over and over, but I could see how monkey bars and leaves (figuratively) connect.


Well, I have to say I liked these poems a lot. You have your own very unique style that I find very enjoyable. Very classy and one of those make-you-think poems. Excellently written, for the most part. Good job.

Holly