This one's a bit important to me, I appreciate your criticisms and suggestions, thanks.
Behind the Potted Flowers
Our home has been opened
as a museum.
There are the patched up holes in the wall
and recorded stories
for each one.
There are the broken plates and mugs,
in the cabinet;
at least the ones who's handles were glued
back on, and the others that only retained chips.
They have their stories as well.
And there are the stained stairs,
the spills being the least of what fell.
The wobbly leg to the table
And the two broken doors,
the one with the visible gash,
and the one to the patio
whose torn, shredded screen dangles.
They all have similar stories.
But the one
that stands apart from the rest,
is the one that goes with the marked up bedpost,
and busted springs.
That's probably the only one worth remembering.
And in a pot, by the window,
two tall wilting tulips take the tired posture
we never did.
A slightly revised poem, what do you think?
You can tell by reading that this holds special meaning as either it was your house or a grandparents. Memories are often spurred by trivial things like broken cups. Thanks for the look. You get a star and compliments. Critique would be is removing some non needed words.
Reply:I still think that all the damaged objects are metaphors for all the pains and scars and hurts of your lives. Except that you end it with a subtle irony. The bed is busted, not as a symbol of pain, but of passion. The tired posture of the tulips is in contrast to your own two lips. I'm glad for you that your still hot to trot. The flesh may weaken, but the spirit is still willing.
Reply:Very good. Nice imagery. I'm particularly fond of the last sentence.
Reply:It gives a good detail of this unperfect home that you would want to go visit becasue in every way it does seem perfect
Reply:wow. thats so good. it says that everything is worth rembering
Reply:That was good. I liked the language
skin color charts
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