#1
last weekend
                    in the midst of my weekly shopping
i remembered that the earth 
                    was drawing
                                 to a close

so i struggled towards
                   an old park bench
                                     that overlooked the town centre
out of place
                         and dedicated to
                     'J. Johnson and loving wife'
                                           in loving memory
i dropped my bags 
                 underneath 
                         that splintered wood
                                                             and 
                                          in loving memory
                                                      lit up a cigarette
            watching
                         bustling crowds 
                and the titter tatter
                               of urban life

then
          i noticed
                           a grandmother 
                                                     trotting past
           slowly
                      as if time
            was hers alone
                                   showing her granddaughter 
      the city
                  in all it's beauty
      the city
                 for the first time

                      but
                        that kid was
                                                 spoilt
                        she was
                               breathing in 
                                              the city
                       she was
                              breathing in the world
               she was
                        stealing it away 
                                    from the rest of us
the street lamps
   the pigeons
      the window display
           of BHS
             and every other 
                                 shop 
             and every other
                                           city
              in sight
                              all a slave
                                          to her 
                                                       disgusting
         youthitational 
              pull

                               i could see it all
                                          in her little
                 undeveloped
                                        thieving 
                                                      mouth
      as she gasped for
                  our air
        and killed 
                       a 
                         species

                                        so i dived up
                              and shoved past
                                      a dapper businessman
                              mumbling through a 
                                       hands free
           and a couple 
                   of other sinners
         and i
            got 
                to her
                       and i 
                     kicked.
                       that.
                      bitch.
                                 a yard
                             or two

           and 
                         what do you know?
             here
                       i am
      the city
                              locked up
      in the midst of 
                              my weekly shopping
      in an empty 
                              prison cell
                                                            guarded 
       i am
                            in the midst of
       a rain-forest
                  cold
       not a 
                            cigarette in sight
      can't relate
              out of place
                   dedicated to
                           nobody 
                              in particular
      dropped 
            what bags
                  i had left
                        in the midst of
     that mattress
                    buried my face
                             and cried
                                      under 
     that mattress
                                           for all our races
                            whilst her
                                               and the rest of them
           recover
                        stuff their faces

          and begin to 
                               digest
    our damn 
              planet
                                 away.
Last edited by skagitup at Jun 30, 2008,
#2
Again with the line breaks. Sorry. That style really worked with the first couple of poems I read from you, now they're just distracting and breaking the flow up in weird places and giving emphasis to words which don't need it, such as 'a'.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#4
In my opinion, the line breaks in the first two stanzas work well, giving it a disjointed style, reminiscent of some interior monologue, but I think towards the end, it merely becomes a line break after every single/ every two words, which seems slightly unecessary.
#6
the use of 'trotting' to describe a grandma gives me the image of a big brown horse wearing a flowery hat, a pink dress, and staggering around as though drunk.

go figure.

the line breaks make this a pain to read. why are they neccesary?

edit: >_< guess i was late with the line break comment.
O! music: Click (Youtube)


^ Click to see an acoustic arrangement of Ke$ha's 'Your Love is my Drug' - everyone's favourite song.
#7
get rid of the commas in the title. it's good. but it looks better like this:


last weekend
in the midst of my weekly shopping
i remembered that the earth
was drawing
to a close

so i struggled towards
an old park bench
that overlooked the town centre
out of place
and dedicated to
'J. Johnson and loving wife'
in loving memory
i dropped my bags
underneath
that splintered wood
and
in loving memory
lit up a cigarette
watching
bustling crowds
and the titter tatter
of urban life

then
i noticed
a grandmother
trotting past
slowly
as if time
was hers alone
showing her granddaughter
the city
in all it's beauty
the city
for the first time

but
that kid was
spoilt
she was
breathing in
the city
she was
breathing in the world
she was
stealing it away
from the rest of us
the street lamps
the pigeons
the window display
of BHS
and every other
shop
and every other
city
in sight
all a slave
to her
disgusting
youthitational
pull

i could see it all
in her little
undeveloped
thieving
mouth
as she gasped for
our air
and killed
a
species

so i dived up
and shoved past
a dapper businessman
mumbling through a
hands free
and a couple
of other sinners
and i
got
to her
and i
kicked.
that.
bitch.
a yard
or two

and
what do you know?
here
i am
the city
locked up
in the midst of
my weekly shopping
in an empty
prison cell
guarded
i am
in the midst of
a rain-forest
cold
not a
cigarette in sight
can't relate
out of place
dedicated to
nobody
in particular
dropped
what bags
i had left
in the midst of
that mattress
buried my face
and cried
under
that mattress
for all our races
whilst her
and the rest of them
recover
stuff their faces

and begin to
digest
our damn
planet
away.




love is a dog from hell.



#8
I agree it looks better without the code, but man only break a line when the image changes slightly, or you need a pause before the reader continues, I understand the logic in short burst but in some cases a fluid sentence is far more rewarding.

I'll be back to say something on the writing itself in the near future.
Filth, pure filth... That's what you are.