Poetry / Chorzowska

slow trams grinding the icy stretch
up Chorzowska in the dull light of Saturday
I trawl across frozen fields of memory
there are the children, obscured by ice
their faces distant, pale smiling
frozen features
behind the ice.
the cold is abrasive.
my face is being weathered,
sanded down.

there are no birds in this white sky
there are no insects crawling on the ground

In a place between judgements
In a place alien to joy

I hallucinate the tropics
the moist, rounded bodies
of beachtime and those undulating waves
of heat

the ocean,  vast and inscrutable
surging beyond my vision

I spin, my head
is
screeching monkeys
dusty roads
thorn trees

We are in a cement garden
flanked by staues
where the old lady
carved the cosmos
from pain and broken glass
where the sun
would permit no joy.

Chorzowska stretches
beyond sight

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Interval avatar General Stranger

February 03, 2007

Interval

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Interval reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

flanked by *statues.

This is one of those rare (and slightly frustrating) pieces to which I can contribute exactly nothing. Your poem starts with a perfectly concrete, tangible image, and ends with the same image, tying the poem together. In my interpretation at least, through a series of equally tangible and emotionally evocative images, you guide the reader through a protagonist’s brief reflection on his life – the past, present and future. This writing has nostalgia oozing out of its pores.

darkpoeticman1986 avatar General Stranger

August 06, 2006

darkpoeticman1986

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darkpoeticman1986 reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I enjoyed this poem very much you have a talent with words. Keep writting and hopefully some day your talent will pervail.

onkelchrispy avatar General Stranger

August 03, 2006

onkelchrispy

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onkelchrispy reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

This is one of the best things I’ve read in a while.

Where/what is Chorzowska?

At any rate, it has a beautiful bleakness to it. The next to the last stanza is truly sorroful, and wonderfully written.

I cannot pretend to understand full what you are talking about, butI feel that is one of the strengths of this piece.

Very nice.

RemmickDF avatar General Stranger

July 31, 2006

RemmickDF

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RemmickDF reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I’ve never been to this place till now.  Good job.  Sorry but I don’t have anything critical to say.

Charisma avatar General Friend

June 12, 2006

Charisma

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Charisma reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I would consider making the third line the opening line, so you can open this piece on a personal note.

There are some beautiful images in this- it’s very moving.

I don’t like ‘is’ being on a separate line.

The two ofs here are a little jarring “of beachtime and those undulating waves
of heat”

maybe “of beachtime, those undulating heat waves”?

There’s a lot of little words that can just as soon be left out (in, a, the) to make this piece even stronger.

For example, “I hallucinate the tropics
the moist,rounded bodies” could just as easily be “I hallucinate tropics / moist, rounded bodies”

Buck avatar General Stranger

May 25, 2006

Buck

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Buck reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

This is a great poem it really captures the desolation and isolation of this area you describe so vividly.

“I spin, my head
is
screeching monkeys.” This was the only part that seemed awkward to me, something about the transition is off-though I feel it works as an idea.

Wow, you really got me with this poem. I can’t stop thinking about  those children’s faces.

ccwitkus avatar General Stranger

March 18, 2006

ccwitkus

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ccwitkus reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I certainly liked this piece.  I have no idea what or where Chorzowska is, but I don’t feel like I need to, and maybe like I’d prefer the sense of it from your poem to the reality.

You describe a place frozen and almost ugly in a way that is beautiful, almost like a broken fairytale.  I also like the way you juxtapose the fantasy of a tropic setting in the middle.  It’s like a shock to the reader almost, like stepping out of an air conditioned restaurant into desert heat.  It creates some contrast in your poem and highlights the theme.

My favorite stanza is the second from last.  There’s a sense of tragedy to it, loss and almost suffering.  ”where the old lady carved the cosmos from pain and broken glass” is particularly good, and what’s interesting about those lines is that you take some imagery or language that often is overdone and cliche (broken glass especially – I know I overuse it in my fiction) and make it fresh and new.

I have very little complaint about this piece other than a little bit at the end of the first stanza and the third.  The end of the first stanza seems empty, telling not showing, and a little bit of a let down after the vivid images that preceed it.  As for the fhird stanza, you are saying something about this place, but I don’t feel like it adds to my understanding of what you are trying to say, and I don’t think the language is your best.  You show that you obviously have the knack for teh well-written phrase and the beautifully chosen words and the lines in the third stanza are just ordinary.  They stick out like an abberation in an otherwise beautifully put together poem.

Overall, enjoyed it and will look forward to reading more of your work.  Let me know if you have any further questions.

Tangarine avatar General Stranger

March 17, 2006

Tangarine

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Tangarine reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

You have painted a bleak picture of this place/street”Chorzowska”, it is in Poland I think? and your memories and trying to escape them seems just as bleak, excellent use of language. Only things that bothered me, were using frozen twice in the 1st stanza, seemed awkward.
And seems like there should be commas after “garden” and “glass”in the last stanza

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Dr_Z

Age: 28
Loc: South Africa
Gen: M
Last Login: November 17
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