Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.
Drowsy eyes, and drooping shoulders
sand between toes from the shitty hotel showers,
with feet interlocking, legs on top of the backseat.
We slept through the bouncing light.
The smell of batter, heartburn, bacon fat
and freshly brewed hot coffee wafted in front of us
the second we stepped through the doorway.
With memories of sunlight and heat stroke
our stomachs filled to the brim,
chocolate chip stained fingers
and one last glance, forever,
at the moment we’d talk about for years to come.
Her voice, stop by the door
leave the last bit of innocence.
The next time her eyes catch yours she’ll be watching you
burn out, become fragile like coals in a hand
crushed, and left to be ashes floating
over the same air we would breathe in, with smiles.
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Hey there, Kanome here with a review.
NITPICKS:
I don't see any errors that I know of while I was reading this. So great job on that!
IMPROVEMENT:
No need for improvement so great job.
OVERALL:
This was an amazing piece of poetry. The words flowed and the imagery was simply fantastic. I wish I was able to write as well as you can when it comes to poetry. All I can say is that keep up the great work and I can't wait to read more of your work. Keep writing!
Wow, the detail and language usage is so graphic! I felt like I was in a movie but at the same time, I felt like I was living it. These are unique memories, and yeah, breakfast makes me think too. XD But really, this piece left a lot of questions in my mind and vivid, colorful images. I really don't like reviewing poems for punctuation and grammar and stuff because every poet has their own style, and I really like yours. Oh! I just kinda saw the strings between talking about food and then your memories, that's talent. (I mean I'm a terrible poet so I could never manage the connects you made.) I don't know why, but the last stanza made me smile. Um, not really because of the word smile, but you were in the moment of noticing a girl and I don't know, something about the way you described being around her. I guess I'm going backwards. X) The third stanza felt like childhood memories to me, like a funny time when we were young that we could never forget. That was heartwarming and then you realize you can never have it back. (In my case) In the second stanza, that's blatantly when you enter IHOP. Even just the way you described being there, meeting the aroma and the environment, was still an amazing description. And finally, or firstly, the beginning stanza. Not only IHOP has you rushing through your past, but heading that way, too! So, I'm horrible at reviewing and stuff, but the summary is that I love your poem.
Hello EKK15, thanks for sharing your work with us.
This is a really intriguing prose poem. The images you render are vivid and sensory. I can really feel and taste the heat and flavors, see the light and the colors. I think it's a sign of strong writing when a writer utilizes all 5 of the senses.
Some lines I really like are:
"sand between toes from the shitty hotel showers"
-either the showers don't do a good job washing away the sand, or they make the problem worse. It could be either.
"the smell of batter, heartburn, bacon fat"
-this line says so much about the environment. I'm imagining some sleazy motel with greasy food.
"with memories of sunlight and heat stroke"
-this also says so much about the environment without having to go into too much detail. I'm imagining some rural place in the desert in the middle of summer.
"Her voice, stop by the door, leave the last bit of innocence"
- I have a suggestion here to change the first line to "her voice, stopped against the door, leaves the last bit of innocence" - the idea of her voice acting as a doorstop instead of it being stopped by the door is less expected. It does change the meaning of the line, so again, just a suggestion.
for the last few lines I have some suggested edits, for no other reason than I think the language flows better:
"The next time her eyes catch yours, she'll be watching you
burn out, turning fragile like coals in her hands
Crushed and turned to ashes
floating in the same air we breathe in
smiling."
I'm intrigued by the relationship between these two people. It's as if the MC is a self-destructing object, and she (whoever she is) can't stop him (her?) from destroying themselves. The last few lines sound euphoric, but the images of the ashes, and the burning, and breathing in that air, is toxic. Like watching someone smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and them not caring that it's killing them.
Great piece, thanks for sharing!
-Dream