bunk
-
your ceiling fan up above is wobbling
tilting crazily on its axis
corridor lights intrude on your rest
tactical mosquitos you never find
but these are just another
and then another right after another
of those stuffy nights
you think of home
and the things you hadn't yet
put right
and now,
all is not yet quiet
oblivious 747s passing overhead
so near their lights
are the only stars in our sky
heading where we left our affections
here we are,
upon humble identical beds
(some more humble than others,
yellowing with age,
or smeared with kiwi)
our weary bodies are readying
for the worst of the coming day
blankets left folded
are at the foot of our beds
we awaken twice per day
to pull at them
amid the 3am chill
with a dream induced numbness
then we resume our dreams
put on hold,
where lovers meet
in idyllic paradises feared lost;
and the lost and lonely
prise open letters and parcels
inscribed upon, are
all the words
milk and kisses
you'd never have in here -
Hmm. Should I tear this poem apart?
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help rewrite itOriginally posted by DeadPoet:Hmm. Should I tear this poem apart? -
I hope you are not referring to GilbertÂ’s latest poem. I think he is angry with me.Originally posted by InnoHippo:help rewrite it
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what happened?Originally posted by DeadPoet:I hope you are not referring to GilbertÂ’s latest poem. I think he is angry with me.
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what's up?Originally posted by DeadPoet:I hope you are not referring to GilbertÂ’s latest poem. I think he is angry with me. -
I thought this poem painted a rather interesting portrait and also, it just feels very cosy.Originally posted by ironoxideman:your ceiling fan up above is wobbling
tilting crazily on its axis
corridor lights intrude on your rest
tactical mosquitos you never find
but these are just another
and then another right after another
of those stuffy nights
you think of home
and the things you hadn't yet
put right
and now,
all is not yet quiet
oblivious 747s passing overhead
so near their lights
are the only stars in our sky
heading where we left our affections
here we are,
upon humble identical beds
(some more humble than others,
yellowing with age,
or smeared with kiwi)
our weary bodies are readying
for the worst of the coming day
blankets left folded
are at the foot of our beds
we awaken twice per day
to pull at them
amid the 3am chill
with a dream induced numbness
then we resume our dreams
put on hold,
where lovers meet
in idyllic paradises feared lost;
and the lost and lonely
prise open letters and parcels
inscribed upon, are
all the words
milk and kisses
you'd never have in here
-
Nothing lah. Just me being sensitive.Originally posted by InnoHippo:what happened?
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I was referring to his poem "Not Home". By the way regarding his latest version, do you find that they are quite different in term of tone?Originally posted by Bluesky_Liz:what's up? -
Oh that. I thought so. I preferred the first version. I thought the second one was a bit stiff, lost the childlike spontaneity that was there in the first. Left those same comments in his blog.
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woot!!! 9 replies in this thread thought i got some responses to this poem, ack
nevertheless..... ahaha cozy??
anyway... i reworked it...
BUNK
your ceiling fan up above is wobbling
tilting crazily on its axis
corridor lights intrude on your rest
tactical mosquitos you never find
but these are just another
and then another right after another
of those stuffy nights
you think of home
and the things you hadn't yet
put right
and now,
all is not yet quiet
oblivious 747s passing overhead
so near their lights
are the only stars in our sky
heading where we left our affections
here we are,
upon humble identical beds
(some more humble than others,
yellowing with age,
or smeared with kiwi)
our weary bodies are readying
for the worst of the coming day
blankets left folded
are at the foot of our beds
a pre-awakening
to pull at them
amid the 3am chill
then resuming dreams;
prising open letters and parcels
inscribed upon we find
are all the words
milk and kisses
you'd never have in here
this one is actually an extension of a shorter one i wrote...
our pillows nestled between
these cold steel lockers
them, they do keep us apart
brothers born under a november sky
the intruding corridor lights
and the occasional roar
of an oblivious passing jet
them, they do keep us awake
brothers born under a november sky
sleep creeps across the bunk
a blanket slips over a bed
the night chill is arising
perhaps the sandman recalls,
swaddled in infancy
asleep in a ward
in identical cots dreaming
brothers born under a november sky
yep... most pple in my coy are born in november and the cool thing abt tht is we're in 'S' coy... scorpion company and some pple actually thought it was 'scorpio' coy ahahahaha...............funny...........heh -
Let me take a closer look.
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BUNK
your ceiling fan up above is wobbling
tilting crazily on its axis
corridor lights intrude on your rest
tactical mosquitos you never find
Consider dropping “up above”.
Consider dropping “crazily”, “wobbling” is enough. Beware of adjectives overload.
but these are just another
and then another right after another
of those stuffy nights
Too many “another” and because there are no (few) punctuations in this poem, some readers might think you are referring to the mosquitoes.
you think of home
and the things you hadn't yet
put right
This stanza sounds clumsy because of “you think” in L1 and “things you” in L2. But maybe it is just me.
and now,
all is not yet quiet
oblivious 747s passing overhead
so near their lights
are the only stars in our sky
heading where we left our affections
I like this stanza but I am slightly confuse by the word “their” in “so near their lights”. Are you referring to the 747s? Another thing, why the sudden change from “you” to “our/we”?
here we are,
upon humble identical beds
(some more humble than others,
yellowing with age,
or smeared with kiwi)
our weary bodies are readying
for the worst of the coming day
Is “humble” in L2 necessary? What do you mean by “some more humble” in L3? I don’t mean to sound harsh but imo, you last two lines are unnecessary.
blankets left folded
are at the foot of our beds
a pre-awakening
to pull at them
amid the 3am chill
then resuming dreams;
prising open letters and parcels
inscribed upon we find
are all the words
milk and kisses
you'd never have in here
The lack of punctuations is a major problem. The sudden change from the second person pov to the first person pov also confuses me. Nothing personal but this poem doesn't really work for me.
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This version is so much better. I will get back to it later. By the way I am a Scorpio too.Originally posted by ironoxideman:our pillows nestled between
these cold steel lockers
them, they do keep us apart
brothers born under a november sky
the intruding corridor lights
and the occasional roar
of an oblivious passing jet
them, they do keep us awake
brothers born under a november sky
sleep creeps across the bunk
a blanket slips over a bed
the night chill is arising
perhaps the sandman recalls,
swaddled in infancy
asleep in a ward
in identical cots dreaming
brothers born under a november sky -
our pillows nestled between
these cold steel lockers
them, they do keep us apart
brothers born under a november sky
I am not going to discuss punctuation and grammar because obviously you are quite happy without them. Before I start, let me say that this poem is much better than the previous one. Here goes, although you have a couple of interesting images and sounds here but imo this stanza is too wordy. Just a suggestion,
"Our pillows nestles
between cold lockers
that keep us apart -
brothers born under a November sky."
the intruding corridor lights
and the occasional roar
of an oblivious passing jet
them, they do keep us awake
brothers born under a november sky
Consider dropping “the” in L1 and L2. Why ‘them, they’ again?
sleep creeps across the bunk
a blanket slips over a bed
the night chill is arising
This is nice. I love personification. Should it be “rising” instead? I am not too sure if it is alright to use “arising” here.
perhaps the sandman recalls,
swaddled in infancy
asleep in a ward
in identical cots dreaming
brothers born under a november sky
Interesting ending. Well done!
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The second version is much clearer in message.
sleep creeps across the bunk
a blanket slips over a bed
the night chill is arising
Checking the dictionary, it seems alright to use arising which means come about or come into notice. If you change it to rising, it will mean that it is merely coming up. I'm not entirely sure though, so someone correct me if I'm wrong.
our pillows nestled between
these cold steel lockers
them, they do keep us apart
brothers born under a november sky
the intruding corridor lights
and the occasional roar
of an oblivious passing jet
them, they do keep us awake
brothers born under a november sky
sleep creeps across the bunk
a blanket slips over a bed
the night chill is arising
perhaps the sandman recalls,
swaddled in infancy
asleep in a ward
in identical cots dreaming
brothers born under a november sky
I don't quite understand the purpose of repeating the last lines in L1 and L2. But that line really works in the last strophe, but doesn't seem to do much in L1 and L2.