Poetry Forum

tom-all-Alone's 1st draft

Summer twilight relaxes over
The smell of kebabs in lost alleyways.
Eight o'clock and
The left over scraps of thrown away
Days linger on the scenery.
Settling must suffocates
The remainder of greenery.
Not greenery but
Gnarled and nicotine stained leaves.
Metros toss and turn over the ground
Infront of you, torn from their empty
Stacks. A lonely black cab whirrs and
Stutters, an empty street corner
And the loss of dignity.

tom-all-Alone's 2nd draft

Summer twilight relaxes over
The smell of kebabs in lost alleyways.
Eight o'clock and
The left over scraps of thrown away
Days linger on the scenery.
Settling must suffocates
The remainder of greenery.
Not greenery but
Gnarled and nicotine stained leaves.
Scavanging magpies, search for lost
Chicks to tear apart. Sinister
Optimism never leaves its hosts.
Metros toss and turn over the ground
Infront of you, torn from their vacant
Stacks. A lonely black cab whirrs and
Stutters, an empty street corner,
Liberated of civility.

Patrick

Let me add my welcome as ive not been around for a while. You have constructed a depressing scene well in keeping with the title. If you would like a few ideas here are some

You could have used lower case summer so that it led on more readily from the possessive Tom-All-alone's.

"the" is a weak ending to a line. how about

Summer twilight relaxes over
the smell of kebabs in lost alleyways.
Eight o'clock and the left over scraps
of thrown away days linger.

clings on for dear life - is a bit of an over used expression.

Or perhaps not greenery - not sure that works. What do you think to

To the remainder of greenery,
gnarled and nicotine stained leaves

I like the assonance and rhyming of stacks and black cabs

Check consistency of caps and non caps.

Hope that helps.

elph

thanks for the comments, some of that stuff you reconmended was me rushing through writing it so thanks anyway. I have changed bits but not entirely as I still like the bits I have kept. And thank God someone got tom-all-Alone's it kind of ruins the effect when it is explained. I hope I managed to capture that sort of dickensian slum but brought it up to modern day.
thanks, pat

Contemporary piece of urban work which seems to carry the notes well over to the reader.

You must know the city well it's not a place for poets these days. No wonder Byron escaped to Italy, and that was a long time ago.

Nice honest feel would have loved to of heard a blackbird somewhere.

L

Hi, Patrick.

A nice cityscape. One I can relate to.

For me, your last line is almost right . However, it's also almost wrong .

Patrick92 wrote:And the loss of dignity.

My question over this is... Whos dignity?

'Dignity' is a little bit of an abstaction for me I'm afraid.

Nontheless, this was a good read, and a reminder of a scene I've seen many times.

Cheers,

- Neil.

Thank you very much for those comments I certainly took them on board and think I have improved it...what do you think?
Also lovely, I'm actually from the suburbs but I do love the city but I thought I would try and show a different side to it. Didnt Byron just go because Venice was more romantic and he was a bit of a man about town hahah.

Dear Patrick,
Loved your write. The line I liked most: "Gnarled and nicotine stained leaves".

But I stumbled over: "Metros toss and turn over the ground".Not sure whether Metros can "toss and turn"!Smiles.

"A lonely black cab whirrs and
Stutters, an empty street corner,
Liberated of civility."
- Lovely ending.

Enjoyed.

aru,
sorry u might not know...metros are free newspapers that are given out at train stations. In London there is a problem with them being littered a lot so they are tossing in the wind. Hope that cleared it up
thanks for the good review

Reminiscent of "Preludes" by T.S. Eliot

The winter's evening settles down
With smells of steaks in passageways.
Six o'clock.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves across your feet
And newpapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On empty blinds and chimney-pots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.

but a contemporary version, with kebabs instead of steaks, black cab instead of cab-horse, and metros instead of newspapers. Liked the re-write!

Yes it certainly was the inspiration for this poem... I have it up on my bedroom wall