# Fragment of a Lost Year



## JosephB (May 21, 2010)

slow, low buzz of solo sax,
  wet pavement hiss of brush on snare,
  above discordant, rush hour rumbling
  tumbling, drunken, dusk descending.

  collapsing on your musty futon,
  like imploding vacant towers,
  cast shadows, frantic, on cracked plaster,
  beneath the swinging forty-watt.

  you gyrate, slit-eyed, stoned and sleepy,
  razor hipped, white like bone,
  whispering prayers of numbed devotion,
  cloaked in violet black-light glow.

  morning splits the smoke-stained curtain,
  illuminating night’s destruction.
  the dope-sick siren sings, atonal
  this wasted day, our dull reprise.


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## vangoghsear (May 21, 2010)

Trip to New Orleans huh?  Liked the imagery and the assonance and alliteration.


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## MaggieG (May 21, 2010)

You know how I told you to personalize your last piece thereby giving it a more universal appeal ? Well this one has worked in reverse, and very much to your benefit Joseph. Stanza 3 blew me away and this 



> morning splits the smoke-stained curtain



is dead on the money and yet rings a very original bell. I honestly see nothing wrong with this for the most part. 

I do like the way you describe things


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## Like a Fox (May 22, 2010)

Poetry always takes me a few reads. Funny that I read this the first time and wasn't sure what I was seeing. I saw a stoned girl and that was about it.
Now I see it all. This is rich, Joe.

I'm not sure what else to say about it. The subtleness of this -

_like imploding vacant towers,
cast shadows, frantic, on cracked plaster,_

Blew me away.


*grumbles* off to delete what I've been trying to write, and start again. Haha.


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## Martin (May 22, 2010)

Nice piece man. It reminded me why I've cut down on all that 'fun stuff' the last year. After finishing the piece, the title seemed a little over-kill. But I mean, if that's the situation, it's all good(!) Just for the philosophical thought, whether it's a day or a year like this, the sentiment is quite the same.


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## JosephB (May 22, 2010)

vangoghsear, Actually, I was going to call it "What I Did Over My Summer Vacation." And I didn't know what assonance was. Thanks!

MaggieG, Thanks for reading and commenting. I'm not really sure what you mean about working in reverse, though. I'm a tad slow sometimes.

Like a Fox, Thanks for reading. Glad you see it. I always have to read poems multiple times. That you wanted too is the good part.

Martin, Cut down, huh? You could be right about the title. It does mean something to me, but maybe the poem says enough. Thanks for reading.


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## Gumby (May 22, 2010)

These lines really caught my imagination, Joe. Good job! 



> wet pavement hiss of brush on snare,





> you gyrate, slit-eyed, stoned and sleepy,
> razor hipped, white like bone,





> morning splits the smoke-stained curtain,
> illuminating night’s destruction.


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## JosephB (May 23, 2010)

Thanks for reading, Gumby!


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## MaggieG (May 23, 2010)

> MaggieG, Thanks for reading and commenting. I'm not really sure what you mean about working in reverse, though. I'm a tad slow sometimes.



By being "non personal" you have opened the door for a variety settings making the piece more accessible to everyone. ( ie- insert whatever time, and place you like )  This works incredibly well for this piece while I felt it worked less well for your prior piece


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## Chesters Daughter (May 23, 2010)

Assonance sans intention, you, my dear Joe, are a prodigy. I doubt any of us can honestly say we haven't shared that "dull reprise". Like Van, I truly dug the sounds. Although I loved your last, this one has a universality that can't be denied. I also adored the lines cited by Cindy. Great imagery, great piece.


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## SilverMoon (May 23, 2010)

Joe, describing someone's work as being "brilliant" can come across, after a matter of time, as a "throw away" word.

Now, concerning just your imagery, I will say you "brilliant" the page. And I never use throw away words.

_Wonderful alliteration. Then I get that "smokey" feel. Then this "hiss" of the wet pavement had my mind doing happy a somersault. Accomplished in just two lines!_


> slow, low buzz of solo sax,
> wet pavement hiss of brush on snare


 
I were to point out the imagery which struck me as being artful, I'd have to quote your entire poem. Just magnificent! Laurie


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## JosephB (May 25, 2010)

Thanks SilverMoon. I really appreciate that. I like happy somersaults_. _I wasn't sure if hiss would come as I intended -- and that it meant the sound cars make on wet pavement. Is that what you got?

P.S. On reading it, I've decided I like the word _somersault. _Expect to see it in poem near you!


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## J.R. MacLean (May 25, 2010)

Hey JB, this is fine work that rewards repeated reading. I'll make a couple of suggestions, which you may, or may not, agree tend to add a bit more juice to the proceedings.



JosephB said:


> slow, low buzz of solo sax,
> wet pavement hiss of brush on snare,
> *scores* discordant rush hour rumbling
> tumbling, drunken, dusk descending.
> ...


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## JosephB (May 25, 2010)

Lisa, Sorry I missed your post. My bad. 

I wouldn't say "Assonance sans intention" really. That's what I was going for -- I just didn't know what it was called. Thanks for reading.

JR,  Thanks. I think I know what you had in mind and that is, somehow bring an instrument back into it, to bring it full circle. I really did try to do that, and thought of trumpet too, but I just couldn't make it work or sound good. I like your idea, but I don't think it has quite the kind same kind of rhythm to it, which is pretty key in this one, I think. As always, I appreciate your suggestions.

One thing I think I'm going to lose is "rumbling, tumbling." The more I read it, the more I think it sounds like something from Winnie the Pooh.


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## wacker (May 26, 2010)

A really niece piece of writing Joe.

I have to agree with what everyone else said about this piece... its mind blowing.

The imagery and creativity of this work is utterly delightful, it makes you want to roll a splif and join you in this comforting world where PEACE is all in the mind.. lol

wacker


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## Lady S (May 26, 2010)

I echo what others say in terms of the imagery and the way the scene is projected in this poem.  Where it fails for me is in the rhythm.  It really is jerky with lines varying from six syllables to twelve.  If this could be tightened up then it would greatly improve this work.

The title is what drew me in and made me want to read this so please don't think about changing it.

I hope this is helpful.

Vicki


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## JosephB (May 26, 2010)

Wacker, thanks. Yeah, peace. But you'll have to blow one without me, my friend. I no longer partake. Glad you liked it.

Lady S, thanks, I'm glad you liked the imagery. I'm not really following you on the chopiness of it, though. Actually, I think there are between 6 and 9 syllables per line, but with the natural pauses and commas, they read as mostly the same, so it seems to flow quite well for me, and with a very distinct rhythm. I appreciate the read and comments.


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## Lady S (May 31, 2010)

I find lines 2 and 3 of the third stanza particularly awkward when I read this aloud.  Perhaps it's a matter of pronunciation.


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