Poetry Forum

Yellow light creeps like doubt
through clinging fog
in dog-piss lanes.
Soot drops like
child plucked paint
from time dried window panes.

A lone drunk
shuffles down the towpath cinders,
dimly lit by factory windows.
On the smoke-scent wind,
the howl of the midnight
Manchester train
drifts in from over the mosses….

Present glosses past
with a Lowry like innocence -
Contrast, increased by each racing year.
Happy red-brick terraced houses,
snug below the mills,
guarded by smoking giants
that watched us as we walked to school.

But they were built
by the Nimrods of Capital,
Tubes of Babel piercing Heaven’s realms,
Blowing in the Devil’s coal smoke,
choking the choiring angels,
blackening the face of God.

In these self-centred days
of pretentious scented candles,
essental oils of alternative bullshit,
facelifters, breastlifters, arselifters
and celebrity bloody shirtlifters,
those smoky days seemed better.

Hard to say which part I like best. It started out as something quite different from the end. The "innocent" rhyming at the start was bound not to continue, and it didn't - it just got more sophisticated.

In these self-centred days of
pretentious scented candles,
essental oils of alternative bullshit,
facelifters, breastlifters, arselifters
and celebrity bloody shirtlifters,
those smoky days seemed better.

I was happy in my ignorance.

Thought you might have got shoplifters in there but you went one better with shirtlifters.

I'm not sure about the last line. Does it need to be by itself? I'm not even sure it is needed, but it's sentiment still works.

Thanks for a good read
Dave

Thanks Dave - You're probably right about the last line, maybe it isn't needed.

cheers

Barrie

Barrie,

I love the half-rhyme of cinders and windows
- come to think of it, round here it's a full-rhyme

You've lost me with Child-plucked, though.

The idea of the dark Satanic mills turning God into a passive smoker certainly made me chuckle, but there is a brooding, discontent lurking
in there with the humour, and it spills out in the last stanza.
(I agree that the last line could be removed, IMHO)

The only suggestion I can make is complementary as an alternative to alternative

Nice one
Geoff

‘Yellow light creeps like doubt’

What a line to start with, Barrie. I wasn’t sure where I was going to be led, but was hooked from the first. Each S is packed full of description, and terrific.

I’m actually going to attempt to offer a few things. Firstly, I had already understood the last line when reading the poem and, like Dave & Geoff, wonder if you need it for clarification. I don’t think so. I was also looking at the title.. the poem suits something simplistic, but I thought that it deserved something more than ‘Yesterdays’.

Finally, I notice you L-break on a few weak words. It seems to me that when a poem rhymes lines naturally end with strong words, but in free-verse this is sometimes forgotten yet feels just as important. You could drop the end word onto the next line with both of these..

‘But they were built by’

‘In these self-centred days of’

You measure ignorance against knowledge.. perhaps it is wiser to be ignorant. This S will likely remain indefinitely..

‘Present glosses past’s losses
with a Lowry like innocence -
Contrast, increased by each passing year.
Happy red-brick terraced houses,
snug below the mills,
guarded by smoking giants
that watched us as we walked to school.’

Lia

Dirty old town ...

Nice evocation of Lowry days in the opening section, and I like guarded by smoking giants / that watched us as we walked to school.

I'm not sure about the sudden intrusion of the mythological references in the next verse, but it is very much your style.

And a good old-fashioned rant at the end.

Good one again.

This stanza is brilliant Barrie.

A lone drunk
shuffles down the towpath cinders,
dimly lit by factory windows.
On the smoke-scent wind,
the howl of the midnight
Manchester train
drifts in from over the mosses….


Real grit. It could inspire a Lowry painting.

Not sure about this stanza.

But they were built by
the Nimrods of Capital,
Tubes of Babel piercing Heaven’s realms,
Blowing in the Devil’s coal smoke,
choking the choiring angels,
blackening the face of God.


It seems very different from the other - unless that is what you intended.
"Nimrods"? I think of Elgar, Airplanes and World War II. Babel? Not sure it fits but I get the sense.

Where are the sparks from the train?

Whichever, I like it very much. I too would bin the last line.

I love reading your work.

Some effective imagery here, and there are some sharply poetic passages, but the poem as a whole feels a bit disjointed.

S1: "Like doubt" doesn't feel right. I can see how the light creeping through the mist would be evocative of doubt, or could appear doubtful, but it's not "like doubt" to my mind. How about "yellow light creeps doubtfully"? Scans better, too. "Child-plucked paint" is slightly cumbersome - the "ld pl" - and the compound "child-plucked" sitting so close to the compound "time-dried" jars a bit. Also, the subject of lines 4-6 isn't clear to me; are they about the soot or the dry paint, or both? Consider separating the images, maybe move one somewhere else in the poem, for clarity. I actually prefer the idea of the paint falling like soot.

S2: perhaps "solitary" for "lone"? "cinder towpath" sounds more natural than "towpath cinders". I like "dimly lit by factory windows", and I love "the smoke-scent wind".

S3: line one is a nice idea, and might work well on its own, but I think it's overkill on the osses here. I'd change "losses", leaving just "glosses" to pick up the "mosses" of S2. Isn't it just the past that's being glossed, rather than the past's losses? What losses? I suppose you mean the past's failings or deficiencies, but these aren't the same as losses. Or, if they are losses, they've been incurred by the present, not the past. As it is, it's rhyme for its own sake. The "Lowry-like innocence" is excellent. "Passing" is redundant, what else do years do? Lines 4 to 7 are good stuff; the blithe nostalgic cliches of the happy terraces and mills.

S4: this comes off as too detached. It's just too much of a break in tone to be credible. Also, I don't think the argument against your past is that effective: if this stanza described the overlooked brutishness of the industrial heyday - health and social problems, exploitation of labour, etc - I think it would be a stronger dose of reality than what you have, which seems to be along the lines of "it was capitalist and filthy". Although like Geoff I like "Blowing [...] God", especially "choking the choiring angels".

S5, as someone else said, is a rant, and a bloody good one. But I'm a little disappointed that you let rip like this rather than adopting a more resigned, rueful tone. Finally, I think it should be "seem", not "seemed". Agree with everyone else, remove last line.

Great theme. Hope some of this makes sense.

Geoff - Child pucked paint - Paint on old window frames used to crack and curl, it was asking to be picked at (like loose wallpaper) - It would just crumble off and blow away. There were plenty of old terraced houses by the canal.

windows and cinders rhymes perfectly in my accent too.

The last line goes then.

The only suggestion I can make is complementary as an alternative to alternative

- You lost me with this.

Thanks Lia - I agree about the line breaks, I'll go with your suggestions.

Thanks David - It was a rant that led to the poem - I'd just seen some 'celebrity' programme being plugged on TV. After I'd 'commented', I was told that I sounded like a cross between Alf Garnett and Jim Royle (I took it as a compliment).

Thanks Robert - Nimrod was supposedly the architect or builder of the Tower of Babel. I was thinking about using the glow from the train but it would have been cheating, they were only ever heard.

Thanks k-j - A lot to go at.

'Yellow light creeps like doubt
through clinging fog' - This was a referral to the main theme, looking back into the past. The recollection of events past is always clouded by personal feelings and judgement always subject to emotions evoked by memories - I doubt whether we remember anything as it truly happened. That's why I used 'seemed' (in the end) - I struggled with that one, whether to use the past or present.
'losses' and 'glosses' - Yes, one should go (and will).
cinder towpath - The towpath or banking was mainly compressed earth or mine waste, during wet weather puddles were abundant, these hollows were filled in with cinders, usually left loose.
I agree about 'passing', you're right - a bit of a waste of an adjective.
I can see your point about S4 - (That's what comes with reading Blake) It was a little bit more doubt about the 'good old days'.
The 'rant' I've explained - Just a little of my character coming through.
Thanks for the breakdown - gives me an insight some shortcomings - much appreciated.

Thanks everyone

Barrie

Just keep ranting Barrie. Nice one.

Mick.

I thought that 'child plucked paint' was a color a child must have picked out but thanks for the clarification.
When I was in England this was not the one I saw but I am sure I was taken to all the quaint places as a tourist--saw a lot of soot in Edinborough, all over everything.
I liked the way you painted your childhood--that the grime was better than covering up grime like we all do now. In life, in poetry, in relationships. It seems the dirtier we become the more emphasis on spot removers and bagless vacuum cleaners.
Liked this one alot.

Kimberly