There was a one legged cricket on the sidewalk
leading home.
Its gait was straight but the way it moved
reminded me of worms that drown in hard rain
To my right I bore witness to a last
ballroom dance of pink flowers
pulled apart from their mother branches
Lost adrift on the open face of a lake they framed
and then drowned beneath by the wide
hunger of circular turtles
Inside my front door a glass dragon slipped from
a box I held gingerly and its broken wings
cut new lines of fate into the palm of my hand
Unwittingly reading a future in a red hue
of tears falling from skin shamed blue
This broken glass figurine a last
gift from a father gone against the
front lock on my door glued
to a seal ten years prior
My chest is a cradle,
a bough broken-
When your birthday blows across you
this year father,
I hope a lullaby swings somewhere
softly beside in a ruffled sepia dress,
and that when you turn,
it falls utterly silent.
Author notes
it amazes me that after ten years,
i still have the desire to cover that bastard in thick black X's...
option 2
In a list
A contest entry
- Faceless by Randomly Beautiful.
1500 points, ended August 27, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - "That Was Longer Than A Heartbeat." by SliptheFlitch.
1750 points, ended September 8, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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Confusing or what? I'm not really certain what to say - I've clicked on this so I should say something...oh dear...in an attempt to be helpful, I'd suggest this line is particularly confusing:-
"softly beside in a ruffled sepia dress"
Beside what? -
ive read this twice. but i'm sorry. my brain is all out of critiques. i have nothing of value to offer anyone anymore. take my applause. it's all i have to give.
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it's nice just to know that you still come by~
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Absolutely stunning. It's an intense panoramic that has a wide focus. That starts out in a broad spectrum and slowly intensifies at the heart of the piece. When we get to the heart, we're overwhelmed with emotion. Very, very well done. I am also a very big fan of the title.
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The form is different from your work I've read in the past but the underlying message is essentially the same....brilliant picture words revealing the darker side of human nature. Congratulations on the HM.
Sincerely,
Leo Long
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The pure bred anger turning briefly to sadness and then returning with one last jab is incredibly, incredibly powerful. I don't say this often, but there isn't much here I can complain about, despite that somewhat being the whole point of a critique.
If I have to critique something, which I'm pretty sure is the entire point, I'd point to these lines -
Its gait was straight but the way it moved
reminded me of worms that drown in hard rain
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Something about this metaphor just doesn't add up in my mind, but that could possibly be my problem and not bizarre disconnection. If you could explain it, I'd be entirely grateful, as the imagery itself is as cold as it is beautiful. -
i know exactly what you mean
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Metaphors, imagry, insight - what more can we ask for in a poem. Masterfully written.
In terms of revision, look at your line breaks, especially line 18. "the" is a weak ending for a line. But that is a small problem in a wonderful poem.
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Very moving and powerful.
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Interesting.
As a result of the miscellany above, I'm not sure I'm commenting on "A Glass Dragon". If I am, thank heavens for someone who realises that layout can enhance a poem! -
Time doesn't heal all, does it?
This was what I call, real poetry. Your language, and the way you bring it all together simply astounds me.
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You're too nice for any truth.
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This is filled with wonderful imagery...such sadness that it holds. I love the way it starts out with a cricket and then you run with it from there through a gauntlet of emotion...you can almost trace the cricket back to you and how your father makes you feel...believe me I can totally relate to feelings of a father you hate...but life and magic potions make it easier as we age to get over it and if we simply release the "hate" then it makes us stronger in a way...silly I know but oh so true...anyway I digress
Great piece
and 
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I'm sorry about your father. About him being a bastard. Mine was too. Actually, I have two, one is still a bastard, and the other has been trying to make up for past mistakes. I always wonder if we ever really can, you know? Anyhow, great piece of poetry you have here, and thanks.
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i have to say this is good. You play around with words and it comes out well. Good job!
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