Madrid [formerly Travelling Romance]
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- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2011 7:51 pm
MADRID
I'm here to see you
in an empty hostel.
Madrid street noise
through the window.
You cling to me like
you're my girlfriend.
But we don't know
what we feel now.
We throw chestnuts
at yellow park bins.
And fall to bits
in sun-laden laughter.
In gypsy jumpers
in foreign places.
You make fashion
seem like sport.
Time to leave
for your next city.
You hug me once
and then again.
I think silence
and return to zero.
The familiar zen
of loneliness again.
***ORIGINAL***
I'm here to see you
in an empty hostel.
Madrid street noise
through the window.
You cling to me like
you're my girlfriend.
But we don't know
what we're feeling now.
Now we throw acorns
at yellow park bins.
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
In gypsy jumpers
in foreign places.
You make fashion
seem like sport.
Time to leave
to your next city.
You hug me once
and then again.
I wrote goodbye
in a rough letter.
To tell you what
I could never say.
I'm here to see you
in an empty hostel.
Madrid street noise
through the window.
You cling to me like
you're my girlfriend.
But we don't know
what we feel now.
We throw chestnuts
at yellow park bins.
And fall to bits
in sun-laden laughter.
In gypsy jumpers
in foreign places.
You make fashion
seem like sport.
Time to leave
for your next city.
You hug me once
and then again.
I think silence
and return to zero.
The familiar zen
of loneliness again.
***ORIGINAL***
I'm here to see you
in an empty hostel.
Madrid street noise
through the window.
You cling to me like
you're my girlfriend.
But we don't know
what we're feeling now.
Now we throw acorns
at yellow park bins.
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
In gypsy jumpers
in foreign places.
You make fashion
seem like sport.
Time to leave
to your next city.
You hug me once
and then again.
I wrote goodbye
in a rough letter.
To tell you what
I could never say.
Last edited by EatMyPoetry on Thu Oct 27, 2011 11:07 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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- Prolific Poster
- Posts: 466
- Joined: Fri May 20, 2011 3:23 pm
Hi,
My opinion.
Not bad except for the last two lines.
They have beards that reach to the moon and back.
Pity to close with such a cliché.
I also would change this:
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
I think you mean to say
laughing about others.
Just an opinion. I hope it helps.
Kindest,
Richard.
My opinion.
Not bad except for the last two lines.
They have beards that reach to the moon and back.
Pity to close with such a cliché.
I also would change this:
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
I think you mean to say
laughing about others.
Just an opinion. I hope it helps.
Kindest,
Richard.
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- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2011 7:51 pm
Thanks Richard. The last line has been driving me crazy as couldn't find the exact line I wanted. I agree, it needs a lot better finish to it.RichardSanders wrote:Hi,
My opinion.
Not bad except for the last two lines.
They have beards that reach to the moon and back.
Pity to close with such a cliché.
I also would change this:
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
I think you mean to say
laughing about others.
Just an opinion. I hope it helps.
Kindest,
Richard.
Cheers for the help.
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- Perspicacious Poster
- Posts: 7482
- Joined: Wed Apr 23, 2008 10:23 am
I like this too. Snappy rhythm. You make fashion/seem like sport is great.
I'd suggest a coupple of alterations here
But we don't know
now what we're feeling.
Time to leave
for your next city.
This verse doesn't read well to me.
Now we throw acorns
at yellow park bins.
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
I'd suggest nuts for acorns and bits for pieces but I feel that somehow the last line needs to end on laughing.
I'd suggest a coupple of alterations here
But we don't know
now what we're feeling.
Time to leave
for your next city.
This verse doesn't read well to me.
Now we throw acorns
at yellow park bins.
And fall to pieces
laughing at others.
I'd suggest nuts for acorns and bits for pieces but I feel that somehow the last line needs to end on laughing.
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
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- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon May 16, 2011 7:51 pm
Hey, I've redrafted it complete with new title.
I'd love to know people's thoughts.
I'd love to know people's thoughts.
The title is much better. It is a sweet story and you've captured both the excitement and sadness well. You've left us wanting this guy to be happy and hope he follows her. I liked gypsy jumpers and the last verse is very good. I look forward to more.
Such a sorrowful experience....
Bad choice of guy, I say
I like this now.
Personally I think you have the wrong take on Zen - Zen can weed out the dross and lead you to Nirvana.
J.
Bad choice of guy, I say
I like this now.
Personally I think you have the wrong take on Zen - Zen can weed out the dross and lead you to Nirvana.
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
J.
Before you shave with Occam’s razor - Try epilation or microlaser
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I agree. I haven't read the original, but there's much to like about the latest version, for sure.ray miller wrote:I like this too. Snappy rhythm. You make fashion/seem like sport is great.
I particualrly like the staccato sentence structure, which gives an almost epigrammatic feel to the piece, though it coheres into a well-formed narrative whole.
The last stanza of v2 is very good, I'd say, especially "I think silence/and return to zero".
Against that...sun-laden laughter? Not quite so convincing.
Still, good stuff, overall
peter
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- Joined: Fri May 20, 2011 3:23 pm
Hi,
I think the rewrite is a vast improvement. Especially the last verse.
One little nit;
"Time to leave
for your next city."
Emphasis by virtue of the rhythm seems on "your" which doesn't realy make sense to me.
Maybe tinker with this a bit?
For the rest; lovely.
Kindest,
Richard
I think the rewrite is a vast improvement. Especially the last verse.
John is right of course, though it's such a common misuse of the word Zen, I think you can get away with it.John wrote,
Personally I think you have the wrong take on Zen - Zen can weed out the dross and lead you to Nirvana.
One little nit;
"Time to leave
for your next city."
Emphasis by virtue of the rhythm seems on "your" which doesn't realy make sense to me.
Maybe tinker with this a bit?
For the rest; lovely.
Kindest,
Richard
Classic error. Classic classic error. You revise a good first draft, and think "gosh, I must make it more poetical". No, you mustn't.
Hence, for me,
And fall to bits
in sun-laden laughter.
is not better than
And fall to pieces
laughing at others,
and
I think silence
and return to zero.
The familiar zen
of loneliness again.
is not better than
I wrote goodbye
in a rough letter.
To tell you what
I could never say.
It's a conundrum, isn't it? It's still got the makings of a good poem, I think - just fewer than it had before.
Hence, for me,
And fall to bits
in sun-laden laughter.
is not better than
And fall to pieces
laughing at others,
and
I think silence
and return to zero.
The familiar zen
of loneliness again.
is not better than
I wrote goodbye
in a rough letter.
To tell you what
I could never say.
It's a conundrum, isn't it? It's still got the makings of a good poem, I think - just fewer than it had before.
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Agree completely.David wrote: And fall to bits
in sun-laden laughter.
is not better than
And fall to pieces
laughing at others,
Disagree completely (though the original is still good).and
I think silence
and return to zero.
The familiar zen
of loneliness again.
is not better than
I wrote goodbye
in a rough letter.
To tell you what
I could never say.
peter
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- Prolific Poster
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- Joined: Fri May 20, 2011 3:23 pm
Hi,
Just wanted to pop in to say I completely agree with Peter's last response to David's comments.
except for "(though the original is still good)"
The original stanza still feels a bit cliché to me.
The edited version doesn't.
Hope it helps.
Kindest,
Richard.
Just wanted to pop in to say I completely agree with Peter's last response to David's comments.
except for "(though the original is still good)"
The original stanza still feels a bit cliché to me.
The edited version doesn't.
Hope it helps.
Kindest,
Richard.
I liked this.
I do prefer the second version, but agree with David that in part you have tried a little too hard and lost some of the original freshness. Sun laden has to go, and I don't really feel S4 adds much.
I do, however, much prefer the new final stanza - I thought the original was very cheesy and think this is much better, and I don't mind this use of Zen at all.
Nicky B
I do prefer the second version, but agree with David that in part you have tried a little too hard and lost some of the original freshness. Sun laden has to go, and I don't really feel S4 adds much.
I do, however, much prefer the new final stanza - I thought the original was very cheesy and think this is much better, and I don't mind this use of Zen at all.
Nicky B
Enjoyed reading this. Love the gypsy jumpers and fashion like a sport, especially. In your current version, I preferred it without the last two lines. I think the two before them could close it well as they stand.
Thanks,
dragonfly
Thanks,
dragonfly
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- Prolific Poster
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Hi,
One more thought on this.
I feel you lose the rhythm in the last stanza.
You could just change the last 2 lines to
"My familiar Zen;
alone again".
Just an idea.
Hope it helps
Kindest,
Richard
One more thought on this.
I feel you lose the rhythm in the last stanza.
You could just change the last 2 lines to
"My familiar Zen;
alone again".
Just an idea.
Hope it helps
Kindest,
Richard
I thought your poem well crafted, and the intolerable notion the girl is a free spirit. Observed to me was the last verse, you went and fell in a hole
You attract the notice of clichés, which are good, if you can pull it off.
You can put a choker and lead on a cliché and lead in your direction.
Or it can lead you in its direction the cliché and get run over by a car.
You sentence your poem to be hung by not thinking by not paying attention.
You attract the notice of clichés, which are good, if you can pull it off.
You can put a choker and lead on a cliché and lead in your direction.
Or it can lead you in its direction the cliché and get run over by a car.
You sentence your poem to be hung by not thinking by not paying attention.