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Poetry Magnum Opus



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Seasons are like Russian dolls. Clustering
on a cafe roof pigeons warn of winter's
caravan.A homeless man begins feeding
the birds-Zachariah Pearson's plaque shivers
into life.Stories sally from Pearson's tongue.
A monument and pond become a drifters
pen and well. Night arrives to reveal flung
across the town signs saying please don't nurture
the homeless. This hobo often eats the fire
of indifference. A policeman's eyes are
handcuffed he does not see disappear
a moon stolen by the twilight. Bare
inspiration for one who finds a home
aching dislocation inspires a tome.

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A Fascinating tribute to the disenfranchised. I knew several people who ended up homeless, and you see clearly one of their inevitable obsessions: Pigeons... And what thougts they inspired;-)



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Masterful near-rhyme. Love that AND the imagery.


Now I have to search on Zachariah Pearson.

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I like the association of pigeons (which are regarded as a pest) with the plight of the homeless. I found your mention of the 19th century dignitary most interesting as I live less than an hours drive from Kingston upon Hull. Though most people (other than locals) will be unaware of him (and the park) perhaps being more familiar with William Wilberforce. Personally I always smiled at the Queen Victoria Monument which stands above the underground toilets in Queen Victoria Square :-) Your poem stirred many memories: it reads well with good use of enjambment. Consider perhaps a grammatic pause after "disappear". It was the only place I faltered whilst reading but that's just me. Much enjoyed Benjamin.

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David W. Parsley

I have passed through this one several times, Barry, with the same result. Much enjoyed (for reasons well stated above by Doc and others) until the final couplet. It feels rhyme forced and unintentionally humorous. If the humor is intentional (irony? whimsy?), it jars for this reader.


And now that I have decided to weigh in, I'll take the opportunity to express great admiration for the inventive and heart-rending vanishing act embodied in:


"A policeman's eyes are
handcuffed he does not see disappear
a moon stolen by the twilight."


It also bears an exquisite irony reversing the imprisonment scenario, in this case one of ignorance and intolerance. And I resonate with the inverted diction (though it feels suspiciously like rhyme forcing again) because of the way it allows the image to progress, ending on the word, "twilight."


I admire the enjambment noted by Geoff, as well as the near-rhyme subtleties noted by Marti, especially the pairs, "winter's-shivers" and "drifters-nurture." Appreciate the absence of vain repititions (I think - missed the recurring 'ghosts' in the tea poem).


A poem worth reworking, in my humble opinion. Probably just the couplet needs work, but not just crafting around the edges. (Watch for my "Transit of Venus" coming up in the next year - lots of reworked lines, and yes, the final two lines in particular. What we do for our readers...)


Excellent Potential,

- Dave

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