The Slam: Slammables
Once upon a time...
by peace_poet, New Jersey
on mosquito-thick August days,
we would order Italian ice at the pizza parlor,
our thighs sticking to the black plastic booth as we
scraped at the sweetness with our spoons.
There was a playground across the street,
and we would skip there giddily, our tongues neon green.
We would run to the parallel bars and swing ourselves
topsy-turvy, pretending we could fly. When
your parents stopped speaking to one another
you moved into a cramped apartment -- there was no room to fly.
Your mother answered the door with embarrassment
painted into her creased skin; her pained smile
spoke like a second voice.
I wished myself younger and tasted sweetness
in the back of my throat;
my parents spoke about yours, later.
They spoke of the way your mother had turned red
at the Christmas party, had complained so much
about your father that all of her guests
had excused themselves and left,
hastily wrapping up their share of the leftovers --
the playground is still there, in case you’re wondering,
but the swings creak mournfully
and the last time I tried to fly on the parallel bars,
I hit my head on the asphalt
and tasted stars --
besides, I'm sure you
don't remember
anyway.
This is lovely. I often think I'm the only one to remember things in such detail; it always surprises me when other people don't. I like how the poem moves in the way one's mind works, one thing leading up to another, loosely connected. The last two stanzas are particularly moving.
critiqued by eponine-pontmercy, London, UK
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010
I enjoyed your poem a lot. My favorite line had to be the first one, and I loved the first stanza! Your descriptions are incredibly vivid, and I like that. The one part of it I didn't like was the ending. Why wouldn't the friend remember? Isn't it the mother who is confining herself? Is she not allowing her child to run with you? I feel your poem deserved a more powerful ending, but overall, I liked it. Good job!
critiqued by azyam, St. Louis, MO
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010
Wow, I love the imagery in this piece. I love the metaphor of flying. Also, the relationship between the speaker and the person being addressed is realistic and rings true. My only suggestion is to change the title. "Once Upon a Time" seems to be used for poems a lot, and it strikes me as cliche. Something more original would better complement this piece.
critiqued by musicalpoet, USA
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010
I love the description!
critiqued by Frankie V., California
Jul 14, 2010
Jul 14, 2010
I adore your description in this piece, particularly the portrait of the mother in the second stanza. Also, nice use of vivid, active verbs throughout the piece. As others have said, the last two stanzas are very powerful. The whole childhood bit -- going back, the friend probably not remembering -- really spoke to me. I think the middle (third) stanza could be a little stronger, but again, it's a wonderful poem!
critiqued by D. Baetzner, Minnesota
Jul 23, 2010
Jul 23, 2010
Slammings