brittle light

Mar 18, 2013 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

Flapping Maps

seeking bluebirds,
those feathery nose tickling
variety of myth,
I board,
in pith and khaki,
a junk van
packed light for flight.
running on hot
rattles of hope
scratched aviators
and a new plastic identity

mirror cracks,
kaleidoscoping
the back-side of motion,
scatter the rain pretty
mud flaps, caked with
the debris of a muddled past
ragged and worn,
fall by the wayside

a hard-nosed cynic
is disappearing

there
ahead
somewhere

a bluebird is looking to roost

About This Poem

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - draft

About the Author

Region, Country: upstate New York USA, USA

Comments

Roscoe Lane

12 years 4 months ago

Reads,

Reads like someone moving through time, or a time, and searching for new horizons. I love the title and this poems pretty special as well. Regards Roscoe...

brittle light

12 years 4 months ago

hello Roscoe

Not sure of the origins of the myth of bluebirds equating to happiness...but I used the idea anyway!

thanks for the compliments.

sorry about not commenting more often on your work. Even I wish I were more sociable at times.
but things change, so maybe I will too!

Frenchf

12 years 4 months ago

It is an anticipatory poem

And if it is your optimism for the future tie is well portetrayed

brittle light

12 years 4 months ago

thanks

Ross Hamilton Hill

12 years 4 months ago

Hi

'variety of myth', don't think it would seem mythic outside of the US, for me as an Australian, it figures only in a popular song,
I board,
in pith and khaki,
a junk van
packed light for flight.
running on hot
rattles of hope
scratched aviators
and a new plastic identity I like the tight, 'pithy' writing of this stanza

mirror cracks,
kaleidoscoping
the back-side of motion,
scatter the rain pretty this seems an abrupt ending to the stanza, the enjambment with mud in the next S serves no purpose.

mud flaps, caked with
the debris of a muddled past the pun on mud/muddled is ok but only just.
ragged and worn,
fall by the wayside

a hard-nosed cynic
is disappearing

there
ahead
somewhere

a bluebird is looking to roost

like the way 'there' applies to both the narrator and the bluebird, it's a neat ending.
Good poem in my opinion, rhythm, succinctness, word play, a stand out here.

brittle light

12 years 4 months ago

hello, Ross Hamilton Hill

I appreciate the the specificity of your critique. It made me more aware of my use of enjambment, and assuming things to be universal...things that may only be particular to my own culture, or locale.

I'm glad you thought it to be a good poem....good Is good (that, I think is Universal)

thanks for your time and effort,

regards,