Firework Bucket
Firework Bucket
A dusk song then,
for that old caked cement bucket,
steel-handle-a-clanking at
tamped down wet sand, my Father’s
centre piece for tonight’s bonfire lark.
Woollen mittens clench at fear,
steamed from our mouths
aghast at each eyeful of dark brilliance,
ready prepared for bangers
and screaming banshees,
who splinter navy skies then
drool rocket fragments
over the brave and foolish.
Tonight the dusk song rang,
its sporadic bird timpani
tamed before twilight, shutdown for me
to fizzle blue touch papers and retire.
The roman candle, golden pyramid,
rocket tube bucket,
now just a neanderthal effigy
on the candle-lit wall of yesterday’s mind.
I nail a Catherine wheel to its own cross,
scatter fireworks into generous spaces,
aware of black grass syndrome,
rocket bush fires, and stand back.
Tonight could be the last Guy Fawke’s splash,
we’re both older, you near a beard, me white hair.
Perhaps when you come in,
if I offer a smouldering taper,
I’ll see the sparkle in your eyes,
one more time.
A dusk song then,
for that old caked cement bucket,
steel-handle-a-clanking at
tamped down wet sand, my Father’s
centre piece for tonight’s bonfire lark.
Woollen mittens clench at fear,
steamed from our mouths
aghast at each eyeful of dark brilliance,
ready prepared for bangers
and screaming banshees,
who splinter navy skies then
drool rocket fragments
over the brave and foolish.
Tonight the dusk song rang,
its sporadic bird timpani
tamed before twilight, shutdown for me
to fizzle blue touch papers and retire.
The roman candle, golden pyramid,
rocket tube bucket,
now just a neanderthal effigy
on the candle-lit wall of yesterday’s mind.
I nail a Catherine wheel to its own cross,
scatter fireworks into generous spaces,
aware of black grass syndrome,
rocket bush fires, and stand back.
Tonight could be the last Guy Fawke’s splash,
we’re both older, you near a beard, me white hair.
Perhaps when you come in,
if I offer a smouldering taper,
I’ll see the sparkle in your eyes,
one more time.
- mesmie
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wow
aww such a melacholoy last verse...can't stand the things m'self at present I am trying to ingore a neurotic collie dog
who is convinced she is going to die!!
enjoyed the write and the blast from the past imagery..I was chased by one of those areoplanes whirly thingies when small..
it damaged me for life...
neat write.
Mx
aww such a melacholoy last verse...can't stand the things m'self at present I am trying to ingore a neurotic collie dog
who is convinced she is going to die!!
enjoyed the write and the blast from the past imagery..I was chased by one of those areoplanes whirly thingies when small..
it damaged me for life...
neat write.
Mx
Lots' to like in here, El Wow, some lovely crackling phrases. For my taste it's a little long and a little shapeless, meandering a little aimlessly, although it is a neat finish too. I'd love to see it slimmed and sharpened.
BUT ... very good as it is.
Cheers
David
BUT ... very good as it is.
Cheers
David
Yes those catherine wheels are fast Mesmie, thanks for the interestmesmie wrote:wow
aww such a melacholoy last verse...can't stand the things m'self at present I am trying to ingore a neurotic collie dog
who is convinced she is going to die!!
enjoyed the write and the blast from the past imagery..I was chased by one of those areoplanes whirly thingies when small..
it damaged me for life...
neat write.
Mx
El
I know, they do that sometimes, don't they. They're just the length they are, and they can't be talked out of it.El Wow! wrote:Yes...looked at it myself after and ....could see what you are saying, though i wanted to shorten, it stayed.
cheers
El
A very poignant final stanza El, as though the spark and fizzle of what's gone before is now spent. Maybe it is my less than flexible tongue but I found the opening 'dusk song' a bit difficult on the tongue. But that does not detract from an imaginative write.
R
R
-
- Perspicacious Poster
- Posts: 7467
- Joined: Wed Apr 23, 2008 10:23 am
Enjoyed this very much, I love poems which end on a melancholy note such as this. There are many nice lines within as identified by others. A couple of ordinary, too well-worn phrases, though, "ready prepared" and"brave and foolish". After I'd finished reading I immediately thought that the title should be "And Stand Back". Our dog curls herself round the toilet when fireworks start. How does that help?
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
- stuartryder
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All good, except for the use of "Father". Surely you don't/didn't call him that?
Cheers
Stuart
Cheers
Stuart