Yesterday, these fountains in the square
were piled high with wishes,
And the big bands on the radio
sang songs of peace and love that flowed forth
in an evanescent rainbow of confession.
In the fall, we moved on down the hill,
and lost the sun in the forest.
And as the snow was fading from the ground,
the moonlight framed the miracles of yesterday,
and glory hid beneath the wet sand.
In the night, we cupped death in our hands,
comforted by her hot wings.
And she sighed, and flew into the sky,
while somewhere, oars were watching sailors cry out
for their rowboat drifting towards the shore.
In the light, we stripped ourselves of faith,
memories naked but beautiful,
and we shared our shivers hand in hand.
We traced a ring into the earth like treasure maps
of fearless times, of peace and of love.
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I like this. I like the whole “yesterday” “today” thing. I only wish it had a little bit of a rhyme because that’s what kind of makes a song catchy but if that’s not what you want then dont mind me. Keep writting!
Without any pattern of rhyme, I can’t hear a melody within this work (presuming that “lyric” is defined strictly as “words put to music”).
A difficult, 5-stanza structure gives us no chorus or bridge.
Do YOU hear these verses as music? Enya? Soundgarden?
But I think it reads beautifully as a poem about experiencing the wonders, joys and fears of living in this world.
I grade high, mainly because of age. At 14 you have an interseting way with voice and images. The third verse, though, strikes me as a first run that the writer felt sounded cool, and decided to let fly. It’s a broken metaphor that begins without explanation:”In the night, we cupped death in our hands,
comforted by her hot wings.
And she sighed, and flew into the sky,”
Is death a bird? A moth? A bat? A fairy/pixie? Whatever. I like that it leaves the reader to decide, but then there’s the following lines that state: death flies “like still oars watching drowning sailors cry out
for their rowboat drifting towards the shore.” I can see, where the writer might say to himself: “That sounds heavy! (and it does) Damn, I’m good!”
It’s just me, but I don’t get the connection between “flying death,” and “floating oars.” Please don’t take any of my Criticism as a put down against you or your talent. Like I stated earlier, at age 14, you ARE good!
I know that when I was younger, I would get lost in my writing (still do.) I would write in an euphoric state, and be in total amazement at what was flying from my fingers. When I revisited those writings at a later time, I’d say “Oh man, and I almost published that too.” Can you say “embarrassment?”
This is a really good piece and I think it has great potential. I love the imagery and the feel of ‘riding’ through life looking at the rear view mirrow watching things remembered. The only thing that confused was the passage of time in this piece. The stanzas move from “yesterday” to “fall” to “night” to “light,” and for me this confusing. Is there an intended chronological flow or are these simply to be things viewed at random, with no particaular attention to order? Overall, I enjoyed this piece. Kudos!
It was simply beautiful… i wish i could write like that… perhaps one day… Beautiful flow.. Beautiful everything… I had the most sadly beautiful image in my head while reading… I’d love to hear it to music…
Yeah I can see these lyric behind a slow alternative beat or a hard core rock band with heavy influence of a guitar.
I like the story of which this poem is speaking, however at times it was hard to follow. Keep writing though, at your age this type of writing is very impressive
I like your idea of puting truth, honesty and the past into the same concept. They compound upon each other bringing about a revelation that impacts the thought process.
I found the imagery too complex and slightly mixed for lyrics, as it read more like a poem. I also did not see any hook for a chorus. Overall, this piece stands up as poetry more than lyric.
All in all, I enjoyed the piece and would like to read more.
That was beautiful. I’m not one hundred percent sure what it was exactly about or meant because of the all the metaphores but that usually means it’s up for interpretation. I still loved the beautiful words you used.
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