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Mouldy Fruit

by carlyjjjj123


The pristine glass fruit bowl,

Centre-piece of the room,

Failed to protect its inhabitants,

From the festering intruder of Time.

.

Fruit chosen once for their colourful charm,

And their subtle scents,

Now neglected sit, wasted and

Wiltering, not like flowers, but instead

Emitting an odorous fusty vapour

From wrinkled, disheveled skin.

.

Internally first, spiderous Time’s cancer is buried,

Its fine black threads seeping out, un-noticed

Until the fruit’s wrangled intestines,

Their inner debris, erupts

From the crusted crevices and pores

Which sprout green gardens of their own.

.

Only now has the burden of time

Begun to leave its mark,

The mark of age becoming more conspicuous,

Creeping up on the short-lived lives of victims,

Until that pristine glass bowl

Becomes a tomb for the carcasses that lay within.  


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16 Reviews


Points: 10
Reviews: 16

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Tue Feb 07, 2017 4:42 am
AngelBunnyroll wrote a review...



Angel here to review! This was an interesting poem! I like how it mentions time being destructive instead of the usual poetry I've found where they comment on how healing it is. The imagery of the fruit molding is very clear in my mind and gives me shivers a bit, it's a bit spooky thinking of what fruit looks like once it's rotted. Though I have heard some fruit smells very sweet after rotting, this poem also makes me think of when you have to do a still life drawing but of actual still life. I'm a little confused about the carcass part in the end but still a great poem. Not the best reviews that could be given but I did my best, hope it was okay.




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73 Reviews


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Reviews: 73

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Sun Jan 29, 2017 4:59 am
NightKaizer wrote a review...



HEELLO Carly JJJJ,
A poem about the darker affects of time. Moldy indeed. When bread starts to grow mold, when bananas grow black with rot, when apples wither and attract the flies....
I've heard a lot about time's healing ability. But of course, where there is light there is a shadow. You've used a lot of descriptive details to describe that shadow. "Inner debris" and "wrangled intestines". I can almost see the fruit rotting. Shivers down my spine.
And yes, rotting fruits do not smell pleasant. Flowers wither but fruits do more than that. How can something so sweet suddenly turn so bitter? Bitter yet sweet? Sweet yet bitter?

Bitter it is,

Night Kaizer




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1080 Reviews


Points: 125
Reviews: 1080

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Wed Jan 25, 2017 11:33 am
Kaylaa wrote a review...



This is Nikayla here for a review!

I actually think this poem has a lot of potential due to its unique idea. I don't think anyone's ever really tackled writing a poem about the 'fruit in a bowl' method or cliche that goes around a lot, and this takes a new spin on it. Usually what you see and happen to draw is just fresh fruit in a bowl without being rotten or anything of that sort, which is why this interested me. Nonetheless, let's jump right into the review!

So the first stanza gives us somewhat a start of the poem. The first thing that I noticed about it was the wording and the flow, which is a bit awkward but I know what you're trying to get across. I'm thinking that time is the thing attacking the bowl of fruit since it happens to be a still-life? Or at least that's how I'm interpreting it. Definitely not the strongest part of the poem, but it gives us something to kick off with.

The second stanza feels a bit different in tone and I like the idea that it's trying to get across, but it becomes wordy in its last couple of lines. I suggest you cut it down by a couple of the words and try to reword some of it to make the flow stronger. The last three or so lines are probably the ones that feel clunkiest here. We get the idea from this stanza that the fruit has sat out to rot which is something that I haven't really ever considered about a still-life. I actually have a question about that--do they use plastic fruit in some cases to avoid it going rotten? Just something that interested me.

Going to try and wrap up the next two stanzas together. I like the idea that you have as well as the imagery you start to imbue, but it feels like you're trying to do too much with word choice. You don't have to have a lot of words that seem smart in your poetry for it to be good. Or, what I'm trying to say is, don't write the poem and then insert all these fancy vocabulary words if they don't fit the tone of the poem or if they clog up the flow.

Sometimes it's okay to be simplistic. Having a strong vocabulary can be beneficial for your poem and for setting the tone, but it doesn't equate to good poetry or good imagery. The imagery in the poem is something that could be stronger with the usage of sensory details, which are exactly what they sound like: details of the senses.

And with that, I've said what I wanted to say. I hope I helped and have a great day!





Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream.
— Mark Twain