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have you ever felt like a boquet of flowers?
You kept them after she gave them to you, and
slowly they dried out in the crisp stale air of your room in a trailer
in the deserts of New Mexico,
poor conditions thus yielding poor results and...
flowers don't live forever,
it doesn't seem to matter what you do.
But you kept them, and hung them on your wall
to solidify a spirit of hope maybe,
or to be a memento for something that felt like
it would last forever
if you just gave it fresh water every day.
you had kept those flowers in a coffee pot, in lieu of a vase,
which you unfortunately did not have,
and its possible you might have changed the water once.
You cant seem to remember now, as your preoccupied faculties
turn to face the flames of what was.
Its a kind of ritual you tend to do sometimes when you want to forget,
to fossilize a memory that feels too fresh to bear, and yet
it seems to keep living, even now.
watching the way those flames engulf that bouquet,
the stalks of the flowers seem to writhe in pain,
to curl up like tired toes
and it feels somber as a funeral procession.
You don't say a word.
You just watch them
and listen as they scream silently to the beat of crackling logs.
Style / type:
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity):
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction):
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage:
Contest:
Content level:
Not Explicit Content
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Comments
neopoet
Wed, 2024-05-29 01:12
Neopoet AI 5-29-23 version
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Geezer
Wed, 2024-05-29 14:46
Hey Marge...
I wondered when you would show up again. Sorry that it's a lonely, miserable post, that brings you back. You have plenty of good lines here. I think that you stumble a little bit when you try to fit too many ideas in one line. Here's what I would do with some of these lines.
You kept them after she gave them to you,
they slowly dried out in the stale air of your room,
in a trailer on the deserts of New Mexico.
Poor conditions, yielding poor results...
flowers don't live forever,
it doesn't seem to matter what you do.
See where you can condense and trim down the lines,
delete unnecessary words, and still make sense.
Nice to see you posting again. Be nice to see you in our anthology this year.
~ Geez.
.
There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.
large marge
Thu, 2024-05-30 17:46
Good to be back!
Thank you for the input, i appreciate you weighing in and its good to be back. I hope to post more and keep it pushing. Do you thing the info about the setting is superfluous ie: trailor in new mexico etc?
author commentGeezer
Fri, 2024-05-31 08:52
No...
not at all.
I just think that you can condense and trim lines, so that you do not stumble when connecting them.
You kept them after she gave them to you,
slowly they dried out in the stale air of your room,
in a trailer in the deserts of New Mexico.
Poor conditions thus yielding poor results,
and flowers don't live forever...
it doesn't seem to matter what you do.
But you kept them, and hung them on your wall
to solidify a spirit of hope, maybe...
or to be a memento for something that felt like
it would last forever
if you just gave it fresh water every day.
those flowers were in a coffee pot; having no vase,
and its possible you might have changed the water once.
You can't seem to remember now, as you turn to face the flames of what was.
Its a ritual you tend to use sometimes when you want to forget.
To fossilize a memory that feels too fresh to bear, and yet
it seems to keep living, even now.
Watching the way those flames engulf the bouquet,
the stalks of the flowers seem to writhe in pain, curling up like tired toes.
And it feels somber as a funeral procession, you don't say a word.
You just watch them, listening as they scream silently in those crackling logs.
As always, you can use or discard any or all of what I have given you.
This is just my take on what you might do to make this smoother.
~ Geez.
There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.
large marge
Fri, 2024-05-31 20:43
ohh
ohh sorry I see what you mean now. yeah i think it makes sense to work on the conciseness and whatnot and not fall into the millennial style curse of adding a sort of casual conversational diction
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