Colin, I understand what you are saying to a certain degree and I guess
every city has a similar park where youths gather. It can be quite
frightening and I wish they would respect nature. There is a lot said in
your poem about life and times past and how youths would have behaved at
their particular time as well as in the present time. I can't really
critisize your poem as you have your own particular style and way of
expressing your thoughts so I can't find much fault except perhaps in the
penultimate verse " and yet they're half way found ancestral home" for me
this doesn't seem to scan right. I like the way the poem ends. A very
interesting poem. best wishes sally j
>From: Colin Dewar <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: newsub/park
>Date: Sun, 18 Feb 2007 15:47:21 -0000
>
> *....* = in italics
>
>
> Pleistocene Park
>
>
>
>Their call will be distinctive when I find them -
>or come across them - since I'd rather we didn't meet.
>I'd rather the quietness of trees and not a jungle,
>grey squirrels, magpies even or a stray cat
>and not this expedition so close to home.
>
>I'll know them from their clothing. They're sure
>that white is right this year, of unzipped trackies
>and nylon caps as I am sure from their shouts
>and fresh litter that they are near.
>
>The oak trunk's marked. I remember the blades.
>Spray paint repeats the enigma TOBY from bark to bark-
>spraint in territory, local as a red tattoo-
>or are they passing through? - like young Masai,
>Suri or Nyangatom, to make or break?
>
>Young men. They're the ones are they not?-
>best head hunters, suicide bombers or first
>onto the beach at Normandy.
>More glass, exotic weed and knives, smoke
>and then the look that clarifies which tribe
>shall be their enemies, the chequer-caps,
>the CHUDS or nameless me, because of.?
>because of what they think I've got?
>
>Labyrinth without exit, bounded by houses, lit and locked.
>All shamans have departed and older boys that knew this spot
>are caged, wasted or dead.
>And yet they've half-way found ancestral home,
>*"as if they'd somehow known that lost estate they mourn"*
>
>Some say this park's a green lung in the city
>that helps us into nature, Eden; it's peace and quiet.
>They're right. I'm breathing deeply
>yet make no sound, more mindful that before
>of any gap in the bushes. I remember the gate
>I went though once, that will not let them in.
>
>
>
>Colin
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