In the early hours.

Hi charlie, tis i the loz miester. Anyway, the poem. Loved the imagery it actually brought up similar pictures that i got from the book theif, (now thats not a bad thing, i'm not saying that you copied i'm just saying that your way of showing us the scene is described in a way that would match the author, errrr, i can't remember his name, anyway which means its an achievment of it's own) Alot of things have been pointed out by the other critiques so there isn't much else left to say. But anyway good poem, up to the usual standards, not one of my favourite but still v. good. Congrats!


lots of huggles lozzen

Charliebo wrote:Above the town,
The sky is split lovely use of form here, spacing the lines out - decentring the reader.
And tugged from east to west by clouds.
Tiny black holes
Buzz like reversed stars in the morning light. - beautiful imagery, vivid
And below,
The town is dreaming of a vast number of things.
Cats and mice.
Feathers.
Buckets, spades.
A time before war.
Life before countries ripped and tore each other. - perhaps a bit cliche
It sleeps,
But even as it dreams,
The country is reeled and tossed
On a tempestuous sea.
The bugs crawl over the dreamers
As bombs drop.
The town wakes
With a short,
Sputtering breath
Before being smothered in ash and fire,
Rippling metal and an ocean of blistering concrete.
The sun scrapes desperate rays - really vidid and captivating writing
That fumble over the rubble.
Souls clamber from the bodies
That drape over the town’s shoulders
Like scarves
And un-stick themselves as they cling to life
That has already been choked by the ash.
They ascend like sparks
Or fireflies - I like the use of fire and bugs as recurring themes, it creates a cohesion within the poem.
From the devastation.
Nothing is left now.
Just the past, and the buzz
As bugs scuttle from view.

I love your poem! It makes me think and imagine, which i love. Keep writing! It is certainly very color and it is very versatile!

This certainly is a very graphic, colorful poem. For that I am thankful to have read it. Despite my being in agreement with the above comments concerning the break of lines, I feel you have achieved something quite effective here. War and the nostalgia of that which came before, in peaceful times, is a difficult subject to comprehend and express in a fluent manner. You should give yourself a pat on the back.

I agree with the above post, the line breaks kind of got a bit iffy with me, and yes, you need to capitalize the start of every line! I really did like the imagery though, although in some areas it kind of confused me, but that could just be me. Overall, I thought it was great, I would expect nothing less from you! You've written some really great things! Good luck,

Jenni

Charliebo wrote:Above the town, the sky is split and tugged from east to west by clouds.
Tiny black holes buzz like reversed stars in the morning light.
And below, the town is dreaming of a vast number of things. Try to avoid using vague expressions/words, such as "things". Be as precise as you possibly can to bring the images you're describing to life.
Cats and mice.
Feathers.
Buckets, spades.
A time before war. I'd replace this full stop with a comma
And life before countries ripped and tore each other. I'd think you should say "tore each other apart", or "tore at each other". Right now, it sounds a bit strnage, unfinished.
It sleeps, but even as it dreams, the country is reeled
and tossed on a tempestuous sea. I like this line, good image
The bugs crawl overhead the dreamers replace "overhead" with "over"
As bombs drop.
The town wakes with short, Either "a short" or "breaths", plural
sputtering breath
before being smothered in ash and fire,
rippling metal
and a sea of blistering concrete. Hmm, you already used the image of the sea. Try to replace it with something else. Or if you really can't, just change the word to ocean
The sun scrapes desperate rays
that fumble over the rubble.
Souls clamber from the bodies that drape over the town’s shoulders
like scarves
and un-stick themselves as they cling to life
that has already been choked
by the ash.
They ascend like sparks
or fireflies
from the devastation.
Nothing’s left now. "Nothing is" would sound altogether better
Just the past, and the buzz
as bugs scuttle from view. Effective ending