O Brave New World

by Fireweed

Published May 16, 2009

Sun-drenched days stretched into one another and they reveled in their urban Eden-
gathered flowers that sprung thick
from the graffitied gardens of faded walls,
drank the sepia sunsets like mead and
waltzed giddily on rooftops to the
surging string orchestra that no one else could hear, to the surging blood in their temples
and the primal synchrony of their pulse.
They relished even (especially?) the nervous half-smiles and awkward almost-kisses,
the frantic pheromone butterflies that consumed their bodies,
the fingers fumbling to interlock-
all the integral imperfections.
For just a few sun drenched days
the earth slowed on its axis and the gawky boy and star-struck girl
meandered the wide blue world-
a world they wished to preserve in stillframe,
a world as fragile, ephemeral
as an iridescent soap bubble-
rising, shifting, dissolving away.

Comments & reviews · 2
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Fireweed
Comment
Fireweed commented Comment · May 30, 2009

Thank you!

You're definitely right that my attempt at internal rhyme in the last line didn't work. Still not really happy with the ending...

I think I'll leave the word "mead" because I was actually going for archaic connotations in this (reference to Eden, Shakespeare, etc.) fused with more modern ones...I'm sort of trying to convey the timelessness of falling for someone and seeing everything anew? That's sounds a bit pretentious and silly, but there you are... :)

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nixonblitzen
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nixonblitzen wrote a review Review · May 19, 2009

No crits? I really like this. All the images are really beautiful and I was really drawn in by the allusion of the title. I like the title's relationship to the text.

I don't see too much wrong with this, but here are some nitpicks.

Sun drenched days stretched into one another and they reveled in their urban Eden-


This should be "sun-drenched".

gathered flowers that sprung thick

from the graffitied gardens of faded walls,


Are the flowers growing out of the walls? That is what I get from this.

drank the sepia sunsets like mead and


Mead makes me think of Anglo-Saxons. Beowulf. Maybe another word would fit better with the rest of your images?

meandered the wide blue world-


Shouldn't there be some sort of preposition after "meandered"? Like "meandered through?

rising, shifting, glistening, drifting.


I don't think this should have a rhyme when the rest of the poem doesn't rhyme.

Lovely piece.
-rachel



The very worst use of time is to do very well what need not be done at all.
— Benjamin Tregoe