I drew my name in chalk on the sidewalk, allowing the dusty words to fill my mind with visions of yesterday. Watching the letters etch my child years in scratchy movements of colored swirls, while the sun dances above me in shadow and dress shoes watch in confusion.
My stubby fingers hold the stick of chalk. Concentrated expressions and innocent eyes follow the hand with the chalk, drawing a vibrant picture that bears the signature of a child. Purple streaks find the orange lines that merge together in perfect harmony, while the artist looks on in silent awe.
Dirty hands touch the picture, smudging the corners and placing finger-prints over the pavement. My father wipes them off to make sure I am safe from identity thieves, while I watch with puzzled eyes. These things are as unforeign to me as the face my father wears every day.
The chalk falls from my hands, hitting the ground with a sound that seems to resonate through me. A voice echoing down into a place that I know I can't go anymore. The memories becoming nothing more than dusty photos, forgotten behind a wall of spider-webs in the back room.
And the rain comes down and drowns the world I once knew in duty and penalties, washing the chalk away until nothing remains but fluorescent streaks dotting the silver threshold.
I walk away, leaving that image behind.
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125,029 Literary Works • 672,786 Reviews
Hey it's your sis here to bother you!! Actually, I'm going to give a singularly awesome review and you're going to love it.
Anyways, this was a very beautiful poem and you did an amazing job showing the contrast between the "adult" world and the "child's" world. There are a few things that I would fix, though.
Here I think that it would help the piece flow more if you changed 'child' to 'childhood'.
I think that here it would be more like proper grammar if you changed 'in' to 'into'. The colors were chaotic before and they changed *into* something else, something with harmony and focus. Okay, that sounded a bit Kung-Fuey, even to me.
For some reason, I felt like this sentence took me out of the story you were telling. And I didn't understand the word 'unforeign'. For one, I don't even think that's a word. Secondly, what's unforeign to him? Is it identity thieves or the fact that he (the child) is smearing the picture? I was a little confused at this point.
This is a beautiful sentence. I especially love the phrase, 'forgotten behind a wall of spider-webs'.
All in all, this was a fantastic piece. I actually might like this one the best out of all that you've written. It's very whimsical, while still managing to remain serious. Looking forward to the next one!
Thanks, sis.
Wow Tim. I really like this poem. I didn't know you could write poetry like this! As this is my first review I'm sure I will break lots of rules I don't know exist.
First, I love the stubby fingers. It helps put an age on the child and a picture in the readers head. I think I liked it better when you mentioned the fist. It helped me see how the chalk was being held (in my mind).
"Etch my child years". It seems to me that child should read as childhood in this sentence.
I also liked your last line that mentioned chalk. It helped link that sentence to the thought of childhood.
Overall, I really enjoyed your poem. It was a reminder that we need to not completely grow up and to not forget our childhoods.
Oh dear. Thanks for the review, mom!
This poem was very beautiful, poetic, and it touched my heart. It is true, usually when children grow into an adult most of them forget their childhood, but some don't. My parents didn't. My parents talk about their childhood a lot. I understand that most people are busy, trying to get a job, afford a apartment, afford a car, and are doing a bunch of other things, but sometimes they just need to take a minute, and look back at their childhood remembering all the times, her/he and her/he family had together everyday. Most people just need to unlock the chest of old photos and just take a few days or minutes or months, or whatever, and just remember their childhood.
So for any adults out there, don't just leave your childhood locked up in a chest forever, go to it unlock it and just remember all that your parents did for you to have a great childhood. Go do it now and remember the fun you had when you were a little girl or boy.
First off I didn't see any mistakes in this poem, and even if their were a few nitpicks and all I am sure you are very smart to figure them out. (Don't take that the wrong way, I just think you are smart). But for the most part no big mistakes.
Second. I really like how you are explaining that people don't look over their childhood as an adult, they just sort of forget about it, if you know what I mean and I think you did a good job of explaining that.
I am sorry that this review is really long I just really like your poem.
Talk to you later.
<3 (heart) (love)
Dogsrule5
Thanks for the review!
No problem! Talk to you later Timmy
!
Hey there, Timmy!
Well, this was definitely something you don't usually write! I have to say I liked it a lot. The message behind it was brought in such a nice way, how people can't always hole on to the things people love but instead need to let the past be left behind them. Even though we only get to see two little snippet bits of the character I feel like we get to know them a lot already, seeing some of their past and later seeing them as they are now. Which of course, added all the more magic to the poem ^.^
One thing that became a bit too repetitive in the poem was the word 'chalk'. Now I know most of this poem resolves around the chalk and the chalk drawing, but at the beginning I just saw the word mentioned so much so closely together it got a bit redundant. And then again at the end too. I wouldn't change them all, but I think it might be time to hit those synonyms and start looking for replacement words?
This is really just a suggestion because a) this is just a small preference thing and b) Lots of people don't like changing their last line/s xD
Anyways, my suggestion is you change the chalk here to image instead. Not only in the sentence before do you have the word chalk, but also, if you use the word image you can be talking about the chalk drawing as the image or the memory as the image. Or both, and that way it adds a layer of deepness to the ending, and can leave the reader thinking about it to some extent. As I always say: thinking about a poem means it's more likely to be memorable
Also, when you are talking about his past, at first you are referring the artist as a title and everything isn't specialized yet. Fine. But then you hit the second (paragraph? stanza? I don't know which here
Otherwise, I have nothing more to say! It looks like Pompadour has covered it all (my, she is a thorough reviewer!) I really liked this though, and your meaning to your poetry is always so strong and well executed. Also, trying out this new style was a great thing to see
Deanie x
Thank youuuuu! very helpful.
And yes, I am supposed to be doing schoolwork right now. xD
image? okay. i will take that advice and use it.
You really have to focus on homework more...
that is also what I should be doing ><
Heya, Timmy! Here to review~
So, I'm taking a stab here and guessing--this is prose poetry, right? I'm not much of an expert when it comes to the "do"s and "don't"s of prose poetry, but I do think this would function better as flash fiction, mostly because poetry usually consists of vivid images and chains that link thought, emotion and memories together. Poems can tell stories, but they tend to use a lot of figurative language. I'm not saying you need to use a lot of figurative language because honestly, this is lovely as it is. It's actually pretty difficult to differentiate between flash-fiction and prose poetry; they're like twins, and they share many characteristics. I found this while rafting around on the internet:
Now, I've noticed that your work centers greatly on character development--which I absolutely adore, by the way--and it would really serve well as a flash fiction. Just saying, though, and I realize that I've droned on over the is-this-poetry-or-is-it-f-fiction aspect long enough. Uh ... I'll quit rambling uselessly and dissect the content instead, then?
Okay, so first things first: I've noticed that you have a habit of being redundant. It's not exactly repetitive, seeing as you bring forward new images to the reader, but the basic idea being conveyed is the same. In the first line, you tell us about drawing in chalk on the sidewalk and revisiting old memories. I do like your choice of words here and your imagery, although simple, is lovely. But you repeat the second idea: the idea of your mind being filled with memories, which I've highlighted in bold. There's no need to repeat what you've already conveyed. A wise YWSer once told me
It's Audy in case you were wondering.that you need to "say it once, but say it right." I would keep the description before that though, because it's so vivid and see-able. <3The "with a fist" bit is unnecessary.
This is really very ridiculous of me, but you've used "vibrant" again, and since it's so close to the first one it just ... stood out, I guess? You can always experiment with synonyms, or even some classy chalk-y imagery. I always think of hop-scotch; numbers in the gravel; white squiggles against tarry black. It's like a hipster chessboard, except more colourful, wilder, and free.
Couple of quick nit-picks: "I" should be "it" and there's no need for the "a" before "puzzled eyes."
This was beautiful. And that ending!! ;_; I love how your imagery suddenly gets stronger by the end of the piece; it's like a flood, carrying away all that you ever knew and steering you towards new horizons. I also liked the symbolism, especially the chalk idea, which was genius. You showed us how hard growing up is and yet there are days when we like to wander back to the very history that's made us what we are today. The thing is, while growing up is hard, we also learn how to embrace it and move from our chalk and playground world to a new one. The rain, also, struck a chord with me, because it's both beautiful and miserable, and it hails a new life while washing away all remnants of the past. I felt like I was looking into an attic when I read this, and I could almost hear the rain pattering down on the roof; it was oh-so-visual!
Your tone nearing the end was great; just the right amount of nostalgic. Somehow, I think your piece could be made stronger if you maintained this kind of tone throughout the poem. I understand that this is meant to be like climbing a mountain, so you take us gradually through the scene, showing us how the character develops with time, and how they eventually make their decision. It's just--the beginning is missing something. Something crucial. I can't exactly pin-point what it is, but I think it's the lack of conviction in the middle-ish stanzas. Like, I can see the swirls of chalk along the pavement, but I can't see the transition phase where you're talking about how the narrator's father wipes the chalk picture from the ground. Some elaboration would solve this, perhaps.
Overall, this was wonderful and I really enjoyed reading this. Some of your best work yet, I'd reckon, since it has such purpose and speaks of such a solid reality: we must enter adulthood some day, whether we like it or not.
So keep it up! Keep writing!
I hope this
super short and awful reviewhelped~Cheers,
~Pompadour
<EDIT> Also, I got my fourth star with this review!
Yayyy!! Thank you for the amazing review, Dory! I will edit that straight away.
I don't know what kind of poetry this is, or if it even counts as poetry.
Flash fiction? Could be. Does kinda tell a story like that...
Thanks again! *Edits*
Fourth star? *CHEERS*
No problemo! Haha, thanks!
This is amazing and very unique! I really like it! My favorite part is the last three paragraphs. They had great imagery and were very captivating. The beginning part was awesome as well, but for some reason the ending part really stood out to me! The concluding sentence was powerful! Bravo to you, For making a masterpiece!
Thank you for your review.