Park Bench!

Seriously. I was all 'I needa write a poem!' and IshaThePirate was all 'Write me a poem on a park bench!' So I did. This is the result

The old park bench
With iron wrought handles and legs
Letting the sun warm his back
waiting for the next passerby

The old park bench
comprised of rotten, mottled wood
and cheap green paint

He plays to the teenagers fancy
Letting them write all over him
'A.L + A.J.' and 'M <3 L'

Yes, patiently, he stands
through the snowy kiss of the winter
and wet cry of the rain

He stands through it all
as he is supposed to do
that faithful park bench

Oh wow: this is lovely! Seriously, wow. You've taken a totally boring subject and turned it into sometiming beautiful and interesting. My fave stanza with this one ( so creative and chillingly beautiful):)

wickedwonder wrote:Yes, patiently, he stands
through the snowy kiss of the winter
and wet cry of the rain

Brilliant.
*Like* and *follow* from me!
~ Amelia

This is so beautiful. I got chills as I read this. Great work!
-Hope

Nice, brings me back to my not so distant childhood. Sadly where i am, park benches with such character are slowly fading away. Your really did succeed in your quest to create a mood, your imagery is perfect. I can really imagine a park bench.
The poem flows well although to me there really isn't a distinct rhythm, it reads very well. Being a novice I really don't have anything useful to say but i will try to find something anyway.

as he is supposed to do

Feel like there is to much in that line, the 'as he is' sounds to short and sharp compared to rest of the poem, sorry that is all I could think of.

Great Work!

This actually has some strong observational elements, you've avoided forced structural cliche, and there is some evocative imagery. I really enjoy poems that are familiar, that have a rightness to them because the poet has captured the essence of a particular thing, one of my favourites is in a description by Charlotte Wood, she talks about watching her mother touch the blistered skin where the straps of her new sandals were and say "sss", and you know, it's universal, it connects in with the idea that we're human, we're all in this together. This is going in this direction, this 'rightness'.

Your first two stanzas are the strongest, I think, I love the paint, I love the heat on the iron, that is gorgeous. I like the third stanza, there is something slightly jarring about the wording, playing to fancy seems slightly out of place, but conceptually it's good.

I have to disagree with Amelia, I think the fourth stanza was the weakest, because it goes back to cliched metaphors, rain as crying, kissing snow, these have been used so many times, just to have the words there without adding to them makes them hollow, it breaks the illusion of these clever observations so far. I like personified weather, but in this instance I think it detracts, I like the idea of the bench being solitary, among these humans. Likewise I think the fifth stanza is slightly superfluous, it says rather than shows. Here is something this poem reminds me of, if you like it or hate it it may help you know where you want to take your own. It is bittersweet and observes life through familiar things like yours:

'Suburban Sonnet' by Gwen Harwood

She practises a fugue, though it can matter
to no one now if she plays well or not.
Beside her on the floor two children chatter,
then scream and fight. She hushes them. A pot
boils over. As she rushes to the stove
too late, a wave of nausea overpowers
subject and counter-subject. Zest and love
drain out with soapy water as she scours
the crusted milk. Her veins ache. Once she played
for Rubinstein, who yawned. The children caper
round a sprung mousetrap where a mouse lies dead.
When the soft corpse won't move they seem afraid.
She comforts them; and wraps it in a paper
featuring: Tasty dishes from stale bread.

I am a kind reviewer I promise c: ... kind of.

Pointers, well! Firstly, I say don't make it so superficial,
And the bench looked like this and the winter was like this and the rain was like this and the teenagers wrote this. It's dull, extremely so. Make us a grocery list to save time if you're going to do that. You want your reader to see this bench, see what it looks like, feels like, what it's surrounded by, where it's worn and where the paint cracks, what the scribbles on it look like.

If you're going to describe an inanimate object and a pretty dull one for that matter, you've got to get creative, really regard it as a person first. What are the feelings associated to this poem, what do you want your reader to feel. Then! What do you want your reader to see?

so:

Yes, patiently, he stands
through the snowy kiss of the winter
and wet cry of the rain

This. Tells me nothing, it's boring, mildly cliche and paints nothing in my head.
It's brutal imagery, this sudden introduction of winter to the poem, then relation to kiss
same with rain.

You've got nothing that builds up to it, nothing that connects it to the bench, they could be two separate things for all I know.

He stands through it all
as he is supposed to do
that faithful park bench

I recommend a little punctation in this stanza.
and something that flows together a little better then this so that it ends a little more smoothly then this.

Good luck, thanks for linking me to your piece!

Kamas