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Poetry / Painting Walls
I painted my kitchen red –
hung a fake antique French clock
upon the wall to remind me
of those Parisian courtyard gardens
hidden in the center of apartment buildings.
I gaze down from an open window,
see potted geranium plants,
the blooms so much brighter, larger, redder
than the ones here at home.
I’m amazed I am in Paris, France and remember
another time when I once was there,
a jeune fille, hardly a woman yet,
free of spirit and mind, a coquette.
I was turning forty that time in Paris
I gazed out the window over the courtyard…
but I digress thinking of the old red kitchen,
that silly French clock,
those ratty, old pickled cupboards
with the doors off their hinges…
before I renovated and painted the walls dark
one summer, when I still felt young and could walk.
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supra_speed reviewed Version 1 -
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from the way that this is being described, im gonna say this is an actual experience. which is well done i must say if it is a personal experience.
i do have a couple suggestions though.
1st stanza L3, the word upon can be replaced with ‘on’ just to make it seem a little less fairytale, but thats how it came off to me.
2nd stanza L4, and L5 make no sense what so ever to me. more precisely, ‘here at home’ and ‘i’m in paris’ thats just saying your in two places at once all in one breath as well.
and the last thing i saw that i didn’t like was the ’...’ in your last stanza, i just feel that writing poetry is done much better than having those amatuer punctuations in there, but thats strictly my opinion.
other than that may i suggest just a bit more polishing for this piece, and overall i think its a great ‘warming’ feeling that readers will get from this. good job, write on.
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SunsetStargazer reviewed Version 1 -
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I found it very interesting. I love the red kitchen^^
Subterranean reviewed Version 1 -
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I’m not sure if your poem was meant to be literal or not (I simply question this because I am hardly literal in the way I write so it appears to be alien at time). However, I enjoyed it. I don’t know why either, some sort of simplicity just shines off of this. The first five lines were great, I really understand that sort of fake representation of some beauty you could never match.
And if this is really based on your experiences in Paris France I am even more interested in what you have to say about it. I know few people who have been there but I hear it is beautiful. I’m not one for travel but there are some places that seem to be kept safe from this sort of fake, freeze dried, plastic sort of environment that much of the world has turned into.
Anyways, I have gone on too long.
Nice job, I enjoyed this.
eremiphobia reviewed Version 1 -
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a coherent and vivid piece marred slightly by the vagueness of concepts of time/chronology
the voice in the first stanza seems to be coming from a point of view in the present, just after having painted the walls and hung the clock. so it is implied that in the present, the narrator looks back on her memory of paris..
suddenly in the second stanza there is a shift into the present tense which is slightly jarring. i realize now that in context this could mean the narrator has just painted the walls, hung the clock and is presently gazing down from the window but without putting so much effort into the placement of events in a timeline, this bit is so confusing. incorporating some present tense into the first stanza could alleviate some of the disorientation. “i’m amazed i am in paris, france” is confusing – the narrator is not in paris and this would be okay as a form of symbolic speech except that the next line makes it clear that the narrator is not even spiritually in paris as she refers to it as “there,” not “here.”
in the third stanza time again becomes mutilated and the reader is left confused. is “that time in paris” the time the narrator painted the walls, or the time they remembered after painting? are there three distinct sets of time in the poem or two? some major reworking is needed in this part to improve clarity and allow the reader a chance to focus on the beauty of the words instead of becoming distracted by the technicalities.
there are some other things that need to be said about this piece though like that your voice is distinctive and wonderful and however vague the tone you set in this piece is marvelously nostalgic/beautiful. there are very few things i would change that do not relate to clarity but here they are:
s1 – it isn’t completely sensible for a clock to remind the narrator of gardens
and i would prefer “centers” over “center” of apartment buildings (because of plural gardens)
s2 – this opening reads a little juvenile, i think because of the shift to present tense – “i gaze down..” just seems like a cheap transition
s3 – “ratty old pickled” = too many modifiers, comes off as wordy and trite
“painted the walls dark” feels too vague
i like a lot of your imagery in this stanza but the blending of it is confusing for me.
all in all you did a really good job translating an emotion to paper but there is definitely a lot of technical work left to be done. good luck!
hovercraft reviewed Version 1 -
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I truly do think this piece is splendid. It’s simple, yet still retains beauty and eloquence…I love this kind of poetry! I can feel the nostalgia, and it makes me miss Paris, too. One problem: I’ve never been! Good job, you’ve showed me Paris. :)
eminemslove85 reviewed Version 1 -
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that was pretty good i would say.
hot52wheeler reviewed Version 1 -
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It’s kind of odd, but in a good way. Keep letting your thoughts come out. Never give up, because you can only get better.
Good Job,
Chris
nothereorlater reviewed Version 1 -
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short story in a poem, well done.
softserve reviewed Version 1 -
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All of your sentences start with “I.” ”I painted…” “I gaze…” ”I’m amazed…” ”I was turning…” ”I gazed…” ”I renovated…” ”I still felt…” A little sentence variation would improve this piece. Please take out the word “France” after “Paris”—there’s only one Paris in poetry.
I’m confused by the last stanza. When were you in Paris and when did you paint the kitchen, and it’s just too vague and undeveloped. Talk about the significance of you being in Paris and you painting, and clarify when you were there and when you weren’t. Why do you mention the cupboards and the hinges? What are “pickled cupboards?”
lauthiamkok reviewed Version 1 -
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I can see a very quiet image from this writing. I can feel the feeling of being young no more – “one summer, when I still felt young and could walk.” And lastly, I can see a beautiful memory of this writing through my imagination. Thank you.
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