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Southbank
Posted: 26 May 2006
Word Count: 100
Summary: I don't know what I'm on about. Well I do, a bit. Crowds and the promise of war.
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Southbank
Crossing down to Southbank over Waterloo Bridge -
Big Ben. 12 noon. Say, dude, you got a Union Jack!
A copper’s hat! A postcard of the Royals, cool!
Which one’s dead? Gee, that’s too bad.
Mom I’m hungry
want a burger want some candy want a gun
wanna shoot me some Iraqis pow pow pow
Here it comes
the dollar and the oil slicks the spinning till the blood clots
Crossing down to Southbank the wind picked up a rumour
I held it till it kissed me
and the rain made silver circles
on the surface
of the Thames.
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Comments by other Members
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 radavies1uk at 01:08 on 29 May 2006
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Heya Sophie
I really like how you have some fantastic pictures in here. Also the almost rhymes that you have in here sound good out loud :)
I crossed Waterloo bridge last time I was in London (down that way on business a month or so ago and was my first walk round London) at about 10pm, in the rain, with Big Ben and the Eye bearing down on me, and just had to stare out at the wide open Thames :) Was cool that you took me right back there again :) Thanks :)
Bob
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 Mr B. at 20:35 on 29 May 2006
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This has a freeformed looseness about it, which makes the links between physical description and emotional comment unexpected and interesting - the kind of things you might think about on a walk.
Nice one!
A
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 joanie at 21:19 on 29 May 2006
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Hi Swoo. the wind picked up a rumour
I held it till it kissed me
and the rain made silver circles
on the surface
of the Thames. |
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is just wonderful! I am still thinking about this one. Excellent.
joanie
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NinaLara at 10:50 on 30 May 2006
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Dear Swoo -
I love the last verse too (it reaaly is fantastic) and I think the whole poem captures a conflict of emotion - a real moment - very well.
London is very good for bringing you up against uncomfortable feelings, with its mixture of affluence and homelessness, cultural diversity and tourism, beauty and decay, old worlds and new worlds meeting and conflicting constantly.
I did wonder whether the first verse moves into the second too quickly ... but on reflection I think the poem presents us with a perfectly expressed raw anger which I really like. It seems to be a very oral piece.
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Swoo at 16:20 on 30 May 2006
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Thanks everyone, very generous comments. I feel that I might have been just a bit too stereotypical with the portrayal of the Americans here - perhaps a bit too easy, a cheap shot.
Also, the final stanza does feel a little like a jarring leap into the speaker's inner world, and I also feel that the whole thing should maybe be a longer piece.
I struggled to make the 'voices' of the first 3 stanzas authentic - although I've made them cartoon-like and stupid. I'm still thinking on it! I might take the last stanza and put it into another poem, who knows.
Oh and being a bit nit-picky, we can't do indents here, but the line 'here it comes' is meant to be over to the right - I wanted it to balance the 'mom I'm hungry' line.
But thanks again all.
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