I pretended not to see cash exchanged for little red pills
that fateful June night, having my own qualms,
though we were labeled Greasers , you would've called Jack,
a Sweater if you looked at his palms;
the denim clad teen never admitted his Schwinn handlebars
still warm as he begun his short reign,
all us nervous as our rivals the Jocks before a school play or championship to regain.
Jack, not by democratic vote but the unwritten code of
Long Island middle class streets back in '75,
when toughness, good looks and a supped up Chevy
crowned you King of our world, long as you would drive;
three girls and two boys, me the odd one out,
yet still part of the whole group dynamic thing,
unaware of the heartache and trouble a Van, pills
and countless quart bottles of Bud could bring.
At the scene of the accident, a badly wounded tree
would spill the truth from its oak veins,
Jack’s car pierced its heart, telling the tragic account
better than our slurred voices there on Daffodil Lane;
none of us saw what was coming, two leaving the group,
a blanket and prayer over both bloodied heads,
nor the heartache that followed, beginning with
the sound of metal against wood and rights read.
I pretended not to see our leader Jack, cry like a baby
over lifeless friends lying in the middle of the street,
or when he slipped away from the detective to grab hold
of his girlfriend Barbara’s freshly tagged feet;
all of us as nervous as our criminal counterparts,
faced with numerous drug charges, judge and jury,
five grease clad teens who today wish they went to the
play instead of acting out their own heartrending story.
Author notes
option -http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y57/Kit_kat_katie05/aheartbreak.jpg
a fictional story that could have been real life the way I was going at 18 - the names are not real to protect those who might be going down the same road as I was back then. THis 70's show is not funny!
A contest entry
- *Say Cheese* by Hell In Harmony.
425 points, ended February 25, 2007, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Rhyme Time by Danna Hobart.
375 points, ended October 12, 2007, 32 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Because I got so many entries, I am going to judge this a little different than I normally do. On the contest page the challenge was to write a rhyming poem that shows instead of tells, with imagery and metaphor galore. In addition to those things, I am going to take the meter and rhythm into account along with originality. So I am going to award points for each of those things and then sort of tally them at the end to decide on the winners.
Show vs. Tell: 70/100
Concrete Imagery: 70/100
Metaphor/Symbol/Allusion: 70/100
The poem seems pretty straight forward.
Originality: 95/100
You put an original spin on the theme of teen tragedy.
Meter: 0/100
There was no sense of meter or rhythm. -
What a metaphorically sound sense is captured here;
"At the scene of the accident, a badly wounded tree
would spill both sap and the truth from its oak veins"
The 70's was a harsh period for many. Coming from the "free drugs, sex..." generation is no joke. The fact that drugs were acceptable is what caused the demise of many. Although fictional, real! Brilliant writing. Good luck in the contest. This stark-reality poem should receive a place in the top choices.
AN
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I loved it!
This was a great write. I only recently read the book "The Outsiders" , and it reminded me of it. I loved the third paragraph, how you used the metaphoric descriptions...
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now does this one hit home hard or what?. You take us on a group outing, then leave us pinned to a tree, like the names etched in its skin in remembrance, we too, have been marked. A worthy message to all would be players in the fast lane.....slow down, stay focused and as for the pills and booze, nah, bad enough each one of them, but together, now thats just asking for it. Don,t be the next loser in the game of tag, tagged feet ain't no trophy. the write does exactly what you wanted it too, hits the topic bang on. well done.
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At the scene of the accident, a badly wounded tree
would spill both sap and the truth from its oak veins,
those were my favorite two lines in the whole hing, these were so beautifully written, and had such a nice meaning. I thought you had a really interesting intake on the picture, and original one, I would not expect.
Good story behind it
Keep the ink flowing
thanks for entering.
kat -
Yes,back in 1975 I too was teenager. Like all teens today we experiment and sometimes bad things happen.
I thank you for the read and bringing me back to the times of grief when I was a foolish teen. Bravo! BHolzner
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it is a strong write, I liked the line "spill sap and truth from oak veins" great wording there.
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