The spontaneous combustion of a city somewhere

by retrodisco666

Published December 11, 2010

In poem

"You can not provoke a man with a full stomach" - A quote about Chartism

You can only put down a class
for so long until they rise up
from benath your feet.

They only are slaves for so
long before they realise that
they are not as worthless
as they had come to believe.

The harvest is good,
so they are content.
The famin is amoungst you
land, so what will you do.

They now meet,
rendezvous with plans,
to attack, to overthrow,
where as you remain oblivious.

They meet in the cities,
the hold banners high,
and march with torches burning.
It is a revoloution.

The city has flames
which coarse towards a
moonlight sky.
Sprays of orange and red
dance with passion amoungst
the rooftops.

You are afraid, petrified.
Your people no longer love you,
work for you.
Despise you is a more appropriate word.

So your city lies in ash,
what will you do now?
Your majesty.

Comments & reviews · 1
User avatar
Abigail_W.
Review
Abigail_W. wrote a review Review · Dec 11, 2010

Hey there! I'll start off by going through and editing some things in red.

retrodisco666 wrote:You can only put down a class
for so long until they rise up
from beneath your feet.


I might consider changing "until" to "before."

retrodisco666 wrote:They only are slaves for so
long before they realize that
they are not as worthless
as they had come to believe.


Since the whole poem seems to be in the present tense, I might consider converting "had" from the past participle to the present, "have."

retrodisco666 wrote:The harvest is good,
so they are content.
The famine is amoungst your
land, so what will you do?

They now meet,
rendezvous with plans,
to attack, to overthrow,
whereas you remain oblivious.

They meet in the cities,
the hold banners high,
and march with torches burning.
It is a revoloution.

The city has flames
which coarse towards a
moonlight sky.
Sprays of orange and red
dance with passion amoungst
the rooftops.

You are afraid, petrified.
Your people no longer love you,
work for you.
Despise you is a more appropriate word.

So your city lies in ash,
what will you do now?
Your majesty.


I love the overall concept of the poem. It's as though you're telling us, "Don't let this happen. Don't have slaves. Treat everybody well." You walk us through exactly how the spontaneous combustion of a city somewhere would unravel, and that is much stronger than just telling us that a city somewhere will spontaneously combust. I must say, you seem to have mastered the art of showing and not telling.

My only real nitpick is the ending of the poem. You ask a question, then state, "Your majesty." Are you addressing your majesty, or are you just throwing that in there? If you're addressing your majesty, I might format it like this ...

So your city lies in ash,
what will you do now,
your majesty?"


This way, "your majesty" seems more like a part of a question than a command or a random statement.

I hope this helps! Keep writing!



It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.
— Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind