Where the cricket pitches stretch
hands out to meet the sky.
Tears of joy and of sadness
and embarrassment.
Caught by the distant nets, memory
and choked regret.
Of broken timetables and
dodgy wooden framed beds.
Hockey shorts and jazz music
and Babushka dolls.
Of sodden textbooks and forgetting
it doesn’t last.
The shivery June evening
in the telephone box.
And your tears, and the locked door
and final freedom.
Promise that he’ll never get near you
ever again.
Their punches thrown hard at him
next day, the disgusted looks.
Protection, just friend to friend
but it’s changed.
And now the endless grass
is a prison.
I've said it before, I'll say it again, I'm no poet.
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Hello Stella!
I couldn't quite get the story, but never mind. The poem itself was really beautiful. You say that you're no poet, but at least you're poetic person... does that make sense? I love beautiful imagery, and here it is.
Ah. Love.
Unfortunately, the last stanzas kind of change the style of the poem. That's pretty distracting, I have to say. The second and the third line are my favourites. You're a girl of beautiful views.
See you around,
Demeter xx
It was very discripted, but i didn't really understand what the poem was about. I'm probably just being stupid, but i just didn't understand. I don't want to sound rude or mean, but maybe a little tweaking would help.
sorry if i sounded mean ^-^
I love your imagery, but I think this jumps around just a little too much. I'd like to see a bit more development. I hope you don't mind me playing with this, it's just easier to explain if I go through it line by line;
"[s]Where [/s]the cricket pitches stretch (I'd cut "the" as it's more direct and brings the reader into the poem more quickly as well as sounding more natural).
hands out to meet the sky. (This is a great image)
Tears of joy [s]and of [/s]sadness
and embarrassment. (Try to think of a more abstract word for "tears")
Caught by the distant nets of memory
and choked regret,[i] (Again, loveley imagery, and I really love "choked regret.")[/i]
Of broken timetables and
dodgy wood[s]en[/s]- framed beds. [(Think thsi works better with the rhythm)
Hockey shorts[s] and [/s]jazz [s]music [/s]
and Babushka dolls,
Of sodden textbooks and forgetting
that it doesn’t last. (This is a really great stanza as it's so vivid and the tone is very effective.)
The shivery June evening
in the telephone box.
And your tears, and the locked door
and final freedom.
Promise that he’ll never
get near you [s]ever[/s] again. (I'd change the line breaks as I've shown as I think it flows better.)
Their punches thrown hard [s]at him
next day,[/s] the disgusted looks.
Protection, just friend to friend
but it’s changed. (I think this stanza is a little weak. The rhythm is off and try to show and not tell. You've done so beautifully in earlier stanzas so this shouldn't be a problem for you.)
And now the endless grass
is a prison. " (This is a very effective ending.)
Overall this was fresh, vivid and interesting and a pleasure to read, and just needs a little polish.
Hope this helps,
Jas
It feels more like a dramatic poem rather a narrative. But still fits in. You did alright with it.
I see no mistakes, and if there are that I missed, sorry!
I don't see anything you need to improve on. You are a poet in my eyes.
~S-I-C
Yeah, I agree with Krupp. I like the imagrey, but I felt didn't completley understand what you were saying. I feel like if you made it a little clearer, then it would be a really great poem, so jsut work on that.
This contained a lot of decent imagery, and I have a deep respect for that.
But it was a bit too vague, in my opinion. There was a tale behind the lines that I just couldn't read. I think you should consider explaining a bit more. Not much; just a little bit.
Otherwise, this was fine.