Published May 1, 2006
August Rain
She stood alone, silent
in the ruins of her own surrender;
she breathed plumes of steam
in the bitter Monday daybreak;
her body radiated to all around.
All looked away from her,
her violent repulse,
her searing face—all but me.
I stood taut in dying winter winds,
a single wilted lily in hand.
All there is between us is my lily
and a memory—
the image in both of our minds
of the August rain coming down
sticking to the old Oak we were under.
That’s all she has, now—that
and my lily
which I hand to her softly,
my eyes still set
upon her hideousness,
as she stands,
shoeless,
in a pile of her own destruction.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
This was good.
Your description was very good. It didn't grab me that firmly but it was pretty good. Great Job.
When I started reading this, I thought, "Oh, it's okay. Just another depressed poem." But then I read the line: "all looked away from her...--all but me." And my heart stopped. Very powerful line.
Just a couple of things. In the second stanza, the part about rain "sticking" to the tree doesn't fit. I don't know--it reminds me of blood or something gross.
Also, I think the word "hideousness" jolts the reader out of the beauty of the poem. Then again, I don't know the whole story, so it might be fine.
I like it there was really good imagery but I agree with "Incandescence" but I think it was an overall good poem.
I'm share Brad's feelings on the flower-love thing.
Are shoes significant? That phrase caught me, but I didn't know where her shoes (or lack thereof) came from. Is there a reason she no longer has shoes? Or is it simply a metaphor for her having nothing left?As others have pointed out, good imagery, but I think that's most of what this poem has going for it. It actually sort of reminded me of listening to the radio, in that there's always some new song that everyone loves and thinks is the most profound thing they've ever heard, then promptly forget about it. To tie up that analogy, it was an enjoyable read, but not really memorable.
Fix the line breaks!
Colleen
ZanyPlebian --
Flowers and heartache? Give me a break.
This would be greatly improved if you killed S1 and rephrased S2. Both, as they are, have terrible syntactic structure and read as prose with arbitrarily chosen linebreaks. For instance,
"the image in both of our minds
of the August rain coming down
sticking to the old Oak we were under."
could be tightened to something like:
"Under the Oak, water droplets clung
to the August bark as rain parched the sky.
She can remember only the stale roar
and a single lily wilting in her hand."
I'm still not a fan of the wilting flower-as-metaphor-for-love.
Best,
Brad
"in the bitter Monday daybreak;"
This line bugged me. MonDAY DAY break seemed sort of repetitive. Maybe you could reword to have it flow better.
It really made me think about it. That's probably a compliment, since a poem probably should make the reader contemplate the subject matter.
Well there isnt really anything else to say that no one else has already said
good job, this is wonderful!
Miyaviloves
I love the imagery in the poem, I really felt it. The descriptions are fabulous. Keep it up.
I loved the overall feel of this piece. Its has unique content, unique subjects, like the aspect of the single wilted lily, I've never come across that before. It was clever and original. Clear images of a rainy day where two meet under an oak tree and flash forwards to an early spring day where they meet again only for the lad to hand the girl a wilted lily. Simply brilliant.
I don't thing I can find anything wrong with it.
Peace.
- Fabien
I really enjoyed this poem, very nice imagery and nice descriptions.
I really like that line in the ruins of her own surrender it captures a feeling defiantly.
Reminds me of going to school cold early mornings or leaving a party, i like it a lot and it is defiantly very good.
personally i would of used the word dawn instead of daybreak but that's just personal choice.
Great poem, I really like the emotions and the imagery.
I really like the images here, they're very powerful...
Again, that's a really great image
Nice rhythmic structure, and great image (shoeless in pile)
So, great poem, I really like it
I really like your imagery, a lot. You have a way of seeing things in a unique light that I find very...well...poetic. I especially like how toward the end, your last 4 lines get shorter and shorter, and finally open up. It's a nice way to finish I feel. I think there are a couple spots where you could rework/reword the line. like
seems almost too simplistic for this poem. I'm not 100% sure why I feel that way though. *thumbs up*-Tangerine
If I had written this, I would be super-proud of it. Kudos, my man. It's f***ing brill
-- Big Brother
Please no swearing in comments, even if it's meant to be a compliment.
Wow I really like this poem!
I love your initial description of the girl, esp:
The imagery was very well done.
I can vividly picture wind blowing by and someone standing there with a single wilted lily. The two people just staring at each other.
It has a such a dark rainy day feeling to it - that's sort of what I get from it (I'm sorry I'm so bad at explaining how I feel about poetry). What I do know is that I really like this poem, its easy to follow, I can picture what's going on and I can feel some emotion that I cannot name when reading it.
The only line that I didn't really like was: I almost feel as though this should be reworded or something. It seems to break the flow of the poem but if that's what your going for then its great.
sorry I was blabbering so much in this review. I did like the poem though.