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Just a house;
Eight windows,
Six doors,
Five walls.
Just a house.

But to me,
It was so much more.
Behind that bright,
Blue paint,
A treasure laid.
Memories.
Growing,
Expanding
With each sunlit day.

A Christmas tree,
Sparkling in the void of night,
The first I've ever seen.

A puppy,
Tail raised with vigor,
Running through a dew-stained yard,
Golden coat,
Shining under the mid-day sun.

Friends,
Clustered around a television set,
Watching,
As shouts of enthusiasm
Blare through the room.

A hand
Extending, towards me
Opening,
Revealing the sleek, unsoiled screen
Of a cell phone,
Of trust,
Embodied in steel.

All these thoughts run through my mind
Glistening,
In my eyes,
As tears caress my cheeks.

The cold, black car,
Begins to move
Rolling down the ash-clad road,
Moving further,
Further,
From all I know.

Soon,
My house starts to
Vanish,
In the distance,
Silhouetted,
By the setting sun.

No,
It wasn't just a house.
It was
Sorrow,
Joy,
Fear,
Love,
Wonder,
Knowledge,
Pleasure,
Pain,
It was,
My home.
Last edited by J.C. Belding on Wed May 28, 2008 12:30 am, edited 1 time in total.
"There is nothing impossible to him who will try."-Alexander the Great




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Points 890
Reviews 126
This poem is really nice. Especially the theme. It's worth crying.

But it's a bit too choppy, you gotta put the words in the proper places so that it would really flow well.

Overall, the poem was pretty good.
Christianity is not a religion, it's a relationship.

I may not be perfect but Jesus thinks I'm to die for.

"Let's destroy these little darlings..."- W.Beckett




Random avatar
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Points 890
Reviews 6
I thought this poem was quite good. I also thought it was quite choppy and it was start

a sentence, finish a sentence sort ove thing. I did not flow, though all around I thought

it was good. Ohhhhh, it also was not that deep. If it was supposed to be, I did not feel it

at all. Keep trying!

-lulu_daisy_101




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Gender Male
Points 1564
Reviews 181
Hey there!

Is this your first poem? I haven't seen you around before... welcome if so! If not, hello!

As previous reviewers have commented, it lacks flow. You could also switch from past to present tense to give that sense of immediacy as the speaker's memories come flooding back.

You could also do with improving punctuation. Start the list in the final stanza with a comma, for instance.

Your wonderful ideas made up for the problems, however. Nice job.

7.5/10

:D
"Don't bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself." William Faulkner.

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I think that was a nice and well defined work.

The topic,the theme you worked on was good.

The only crit I can give here is the reader should feel the sad feelings in it,because the theme is something like that,but that ddin't work out well.The words need to be reaaranged to make the poem flow better,perhaps you should use some other words some synonyms which explains the emotions more.Its not like thiswork is a fruitless job,but yeah working on it perhaps will make it even more better.

And I think the title of the poem would have been better as "My home".but thats just my veiw....well done!:)


Keep posting!

see you around.

Shine
"A good plot is like a dream.If you dont write down your dream on paper the moment you wake up,the chances are you'll forget it and it'll be gone forever"-Roald Dalh.




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Reviews 344
My main problem with this is, (although I'm in the same boat as the other reviewers in that I liked it) was the telling rather than showing aspect of it. I reads more like a character's monologue in a play than a poem. There are lots of devices a poet can use to display their theme without actually having to tell the reader directly; and that for me is the beauty of poetry. You needed to set the scene more discretely, perhaps even personifiying the house as a young baby growing older, or a tree slowly dying after it's last bloom.

If you show people something, they will react to it much more, and their opinions will become deeper. They also will never forget reading your work.

Best wishes,

Eimear
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

Oscar Wilde.




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Well...

I have nothing really original to say. It was overall a very nice poem that people like me, who have moved from a place they loved very much, can really relate to. Unlike the others, though, I can feel all the emotions that you portrayed in this piece. I know exactly how this person feels.
I also think it's a bit cliche'. There have been several poems and stories I've read that are quite similar to your topic. All of them have the same descriptions. You may want to find other words to describe it.
And last, like everyone else, it is choppy. There are lines that could be smawshed together and would sound much better that way.

Holly
eviscerate your fragile frame
spill it out in ragged form
a thousand different versions of yourself.



The day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein