Walking

This is different, but in a good way. I like your poem because I thought it was well put together and interesting. I could totally picture the whole "walk" and felt like I was there. Even though you had parenthesis, I thought it was a great set up. Your created your own poem, which is great. Nice work and keep writing

Jon wrote:In the still of the evening This is such an overused phrase. Any line with "in the still of" as a starter is destined to fail. Try and say it another way, maybe one less often used?
when the sun has laid down
her cards -- when all the
porch-rockers have stilled
and all the liquor of
the south has been poured
south -- I stay awake. Ditch the hyphens. As I look at this, I'm seeing that plain commas would do just fine. : )
Unlike the rest, I walk
past the drowning houses
with rusty fences laying
on powdered earth. Waaay too many imagery snippets. As Navita said, I feel like they serve no purpose that moves your poem forward. It's a bit distracting trying to read on in your poem while simultaneously deciphering what these descriptions mean.
keep going til morning past
the morning jewels that
make mud-pies. (that
by evening crack to
dust.) -- And I walk on
til mid-day, watching the
routine of the sitters -- the
drinkers and evening philosophers
preparing for their mindless chatter
with neighbors. I pass all that and continue down the
un-leavened sidewalk littered with
Kid's chalk -- (all of their dreams No parentheses! They are soo weird to me in poetry. Also, "Kid's" should be "kids'."
painted with hardened things -- til they
crack to dust -- they feel they must.)
And after walking -- walking -- I get to where I'm going.
Home.

Jon, old buddy old pal! *glomps* I’m here to review the heck of this…okay, not really. But I did want to point out a few little things.

the south has been poured
south -- I stay awake.

Kid's chalk --

I'm not sure if you meant for us to pause at the end of the line breaks because if so, at some places, I think they were unnecessary. Por ejemplo:
"on powdered earth. I
keep going til morning past"
It just sounds a bit strange to stop there. But in most places, I think the line breaks were well placed.

A very pretty poem indeed. Nice.

Very imaginative. It has a certain flow that I really like. But no matter what, you should always start a new line with a capital letter. Even if you're in the middle of a sentence. But your descriptions are really amazing, and I could really picture it. Keep on writing!

You might consider coming up with a more original title to draw people in. It'd be a shame if you didn't, since this was quite an enjoyable poem!

It's interesting the way you use imagery. Like nuggets incorporated in. But you do not expand on them. One might almost say they are hit-and-run types of images. Once seen, then forgotten, since they had little relevance to the deeper layers of the poem and simply acted as little juicy snippets waving their arms, saying, 'Look at me! Look at me! I'm a cute little image!' I wonder, however, if there is a need for making them longer, for exploring them more deeply. I, for one, did not find it an enormous challenge to remember most of the wonderful imagery - 'sun has laid down her cards...all the liquor of the south has been poured south...drowning houses...kids' chalk...' - and the style actually reminds me of another poets (the name escapes me), whereby the images are as easily accessible by the general audience as possible. That's what I liked about them. That sweet simplicity.

It's really quite a contented piece, isn't it? Beginning with a line like, 'In the still of the evening,' and ending with 'Home' it sort of borders on becoming boring were it not for the cute imagery. Even then, there was a part where I found myself skim-reading, for the lack of imagery or anything original:

And I walk on
til mid-day, watching the
routine of the sitters -- the
drinkers and evening philosophers
preparing for their mindless chatter
with neighbors. I pass all that and continue down the
un-leavened sidewalk littered with
Kid's chalk -- (all of their dreams
painted with hardened things -- til they
crack to dust -- they feel they must.)
And after walking -- walking -- I get to where I'm going.