Days slip past almost unnoticed
In the tepid gaze of humanity.
Long candlelight evenings long forgotten
In the early morning of white lights.
Evenings of quiet recollection and thought
Transformed into choreographed scenes of hero battles.
Gardens of rose and holly surrounded by weeds
Instead of tomatoes and cornstalks in long clean lines.
Computer screens flashing before our eyes
Just like pages of books we used to breathe.
Long past times of basking in the afternoon sun
Have all dwindled down to tanning salons.
Screams of children and surges of chlorinated water
Instead of tranquility in a riverside swim.
Bittersweet anthems of clear piano’s playing
Fade away into the scream of an electric guitar.
Youthful moments drift away into the past
Leaving only frail memories in their wake.
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139,816 Literary Works • 672,772 Reviews
Hey, Timmy! Happy Review Day!
Okay, so you honestly deserve all those likes up there, and if I'm honest then this is going to be really tough to critique. Simply put, it's really, really pretty and has all these deep-prodding words. The pictures you show us are like slides: sketchy but vivid, and do I even need to comment on your word choice? I especially love how all your poems have this basic idea behind them, from which a string of words and thoughts stem, and I thoroughly admire that you have a basic starting point with which you begin to write instead of scattered phrases.
Speaking of images ... while reading this I found it really hard to focus on one sole idea, which might be why I found my eyes sliding to the bottom too often as I read. This is because while you do present us with images, they're all blurry, rather like when you're at the opticians and they put all those lenses before you eyes until you can see. A sheaf of images, hurtling our way, all presenting the same idea, yet not really building up on the "showing" as much as the "telling." While I admire the purpose of this poem, as I've said before, I do think this needs more stability. It has enough of a foundation, but instead of putting together vague, multi-coloured bricks, you need to establish a view-point. I hope I'm making sense here, but if I'm not, then let's try to clarify this in another way:
Establish a constant. I believe that all poems have a constant, this recurring idea that they do not need to repeat, but it acts as a kind of glue, weaving together the bits and pieces of your poem. It's this idea that, unknowingly, wedges itself in the reader's mind and carries them through.
I notice Deanie's made the suggestion of turning this into a narrative poem, and that's actually a very good idea! Enough of suggestions, though: Let's get to the content.
Alright, so I read this and re-read this, and even then it's not really as clear as it could be. This is because while you do compare "light" in the past to light in the present, it isn't very visual. White lights? I suppose you mean tube-lights here, or filament bulbs, but I feel as though there's a word missing after "morning." Wouldn't it sound better as morning "glow"? This is just me, really, and I'm really sorry if my confuddled brain isn't making any sense.
Okay, so I'll stop quoting your poem as it reads, and instead try dividing it up into what's natural and what's technological--since those are the two basic divisions in your poem.
---> These are technological. You're comparing the past without technology to how it's become swamped by knobs and wheelie-thingies, which is a constant.
----> These are natural. You're showing us how beauty withers away, dying out when it is neglected, like corpses washed up on the sand.
Now, what you need for both the technological aspects as well as the not-so-technological aspects to intemingle around one another is transfusion. Like, they convey the same message, right? That time slips from out fingers like sand, and that not all change is good, although some is needed. Show this to us, like looking at a photo and seeing its many sides. Mesh it all together. I can almost picture this, really, if you mesh like with like and then link it up with subtle verses. Like the kinds you have both at the beginning and the end, but they're giving it an almost essay-like structure, because they speak generally. So instead of having them at the ends like little flags, mix it up! Think of those general statements as "links" and the rest of your poem as the "message."
In short, let it floooow, dude.
I love the way your writing has purpose, I really do. And I also like how your verses have that "feel." That I'm-reminding-you-stuff-you'd-better-get-ready-to-sob feel.
So keep writing! Keep up the splendiferous work!
Here's to the hope that this review helped/made sense!
~Pompadour
Thank you for the review, Dory! I will work on what you say, and put it into my next worrrk.
Oh my. I just read this again, and now I am completely love this review. Each time I get a review from you, I want to post more and more and more, because you help me by critiquing and praising at the same time.
Thank you so much for being awesome.
Aw, you're welcome! It's always a pleasure to review one of your works, and I'm just glad I can be of some help!
Me again :3 Can't get rid of me...
This is going to be a notably shorter review because I love this poem to bits! I wouldn't change much at all. It's message is so clear and obvious, as well as well-written into the poem and so true! I'm not saying that the youth need to change, but there are so many beautiful things we've lost over the time. Although you know, there is nothing wrong with electric guitar at all
As for the poem... form and everything seemed to be absolutely perfect. There was one line which seemed a little too long for my liking; it was ruining the rhythm. Here:
Too many syllables. I think it's the word choreographed that is making it out of place... maybe put planned in there instead? Or narrow it down another way, up to you.
Now, this is not something to do with the poem, but a mere suggestion (because there is nothing more to correct) You've done an awesome job of mentioning a lot of things that just aren't the same as they used to be, but you end with memories... making it seem like someone is thinking back on their own past. So maybe bring this across a bit more. Maybe in his/her youthful days this is what they used to do, and now that they're elderly and appreciating these other things, they wished that more young people today realized this? It would be making this a narrative poem, and you'd need to weave a lot more voice in there. You could leave the poem as it is as well, because it's still absolutely wonderful.
You write a lot of meaningful poetry don't you? ^^
Deanie x
This was your 750th review!
Thanks for your(another) review! I always love them.
You help me like no other reviewer does, giving me nitpicks for my next poem, not only this one. 
Interesting. After reading over this a few times, all I can say is that this is that the speaker of this poem has let the world pass by him/her. And now that person is looking back with regret at all they have chosen to overlook. They are lamenting about the modernization of the world and you described it impeccably. With every stanza you can see the laments of what once was and what is now. Reading this I almost envy how people may have lived in the past two or three generations. I really don't have much to critique you on except to keep up with the consistency with line after line. And I spotted only one error:
"Just like pages of books used to breath" was there supposed to be the word "we" somewhere in there?
Thank you for your review! I will edit that!