06-10-2013, 05:40 AM
First off i must comment on the title which i thought was great. It immediatly put me into mind of chinese new year firework pageants with all the drama of a great show....this then was backed up by your story of childhood drama and showing off, which did not dissapoint.
Our fireside seat a melting sofa, Must admit I did not get this line untill I read the other comments, but I liked it before well enough, even without knowledge of the personal account.
dragged back from the raising heat,
spuds bake at the red embers edge,
wood stocks fed from creosote fence,
wind change chases smoke into eyes, All the above is good solid images i can relate to but something in this line niggles me. Like the image and the use of alliteration. I think perhaps the bounce is lost in "smoke into" Maybe (just a off the cuff suggestion) make a bit more of the title by having smoking eyes (chasing the dragon and the red smoking eyes & nostrils an all that sort of good stuf ?!)
streaking lines down amber faces.
Roman candles, ready for flight
burst the night in hand held arcs,
dark shadows circle the flames, spitting
tracers that claim the backs of runners,
coats flapping in the battle field air,
blackened we fall to our molten lair. Love all of this last stanza. really evocotive of childhood fireworks memories.
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Was a good read thanks for shareing. AJ.
Our fireside seat a melting sofa, Must admit I did not get this line untill I read the other comments, but I liked it before well enough, even without knowledge of the personal account.
dragged back from the raising heat,
spuds bake at the red embers edge,
wood stocks fed from creosote fence,
wind change chases smoke into eyes, All the above is good solid images i can relate to but something in this line niggles me. Like the image and the use of alliteration. I think perhaps the bounce is lost in "smoke into" Maybe (just a off the cuff suggestion) make a bit more of the title by having smoking eyes (chasing the dragon and the red smoking eyes & nostrils an all that sort of good stuf ?!)
streaking lines down amber faces.
Roman candles, ready for flight
burst the night in hand held arcs,
dark shadows circle the flames, spitting
tracers that claim the backs of runners,
coats flapping in the battle field air,
blackened we fall to our molten lair. Love all of this last stanza. really evocotive of childhood fireworks memories.
[/quote]
Was a good read thanks for shareing. AJ.