poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Bread & Jam

I am afraid to forget
the white bed, the perfume
of gooseberry jam;
I like freshly baked bread,
crusts dusted with flour,
afternoon orchestras,
the steady buzz
of flies: one, two, four, ten,
with spectral eyes. Black
flies rubbing their legs
over a good bargain
at four o'clock.

22 May 07

Rated 8.7 (8.7) by 5 users.
Active (5): 7, 8, 9, 9, 10
Inactive (0):

(define the words in this poem)

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Hey, good one!  This sounds like...never mind, I'll wait and be surprised.  
 — Isabelle5

Oh, darn, it's by Unknown.
 — Isabelle5

O yeah!  Awesome!
 — starr

Nice poem
 — rocket

Those personified flies in the jam get me every time. I really like this - its sensuous, dark and funny all at once.
 — opal

I don't see what the buzz is.
It's starts off interesting,
nice colours and fragrances, but then it seems words are just inserted with no purpose.  You don't need even need picnics,
it seems forced in for tradition but it comes across lazy to me.
flies and more flies, counting to ten...
hmm, i just don't know.
 — jenakajoffer

why do you have to mention flies again?
you could leave out the period and just continue with the rubbing.
something bugs me...
I don't deny the charm in this,
just think something is
 — jenakajoffer

line 6 is only 2 words,
are you sure they are the
best 2?
could be important...
the answer, i mean
nice poem
 — chuckles

Thank you everyone. I've edited.
 — unknown