Ode to the Rolling (1st edit)

[micah3801]

Ode to the Rolling 1st Edit: 

Cuclunk cuclunk-
The length of the
slabs determine
The sound of my
footsteps.
I am that
concrete heartbeat.
The bus driver is known to me,
Strapping me in,
Close quarters.
The city and its planners
Make decisions
For me, now.
No faceless operators,
Unsung curb cuts,
Unknown cracks in the pavement.
The city rolls with me,
Cuclunk
Cuclunk.


Original: 
Ode to the Rolling

The sidewalk under my wheels[edit: wheelchair] goes
Cuclunk cuclunk.
These are my footsteps now.
The length of the slabs determine
The sound of my feet.
The city and its planners
Make decisions for me
In many ways now.
I am that concrete heartbeat
I make the bus driver known to me
Strapping me in
Close quarters.
There are no faceless operators,
Unnoticed curb cuts,
Unrecognized doors held.
The city breathes with me,
Cuclunk
Cuclunk.

[Bunx]

I know a cellphone poem when I see one.
I love this cellphone poem.
I love love walking biking buses and subways in cities.

Being homies with your bus driver is a good idea. This white
Guy dressed in all blue has been lurking at my favorite
Basketball court.

I'm not too familiar with odes but if it were me I'd try this

The wheels under my feet sink sand and tar.
I have to go far

Clunking junk my old bike sounds bad.
Endless blocks of sidewalk I walk if break down.
Sideways to straight cities planners irate.

Advice as a cyclist make sure your wheels nuts are tight because
Potholes make them loose.

[micah3801]

I know a cellphone poem when I see one.
I love this cellphone poem.
I love love walking biking buses and subways in cities.

Being homies with your bus driver is a good idea. This white
Guy dressed in all blue has been lurking at my favorite
Basketball court.

I'm not too familiar with odes but if it were me I'd try this

The wheels under my feet sink sand and tar.
I have to go far

Clunking junk my old bike sounds bad.
Endless blocks of sidewalk I walk if break down.
Sideways to straight cities planners irate.

Advice as a cyclist make sure your wheels nuts are tight because
Potholes make them loose.

how does it change the poem for you if i change the first "wheels" to "wheelchair"? 

I was worried that context wouldn't come through, oops

[Bunx]

Oh it does! Didn't even think about a wheel chair.
I thought poverty

[rowens]

Ode to the Rolling

The sidewalk under my wheels[edit: wheelchair] goes
Cuclunk cuclunk.
These are my footsteps now.
The length of the slabs determine
The sound of my feet.
The city and its planners
Make decisions for me
In many ways now.
I am that concrete heartbeat
I make the bus driver known to me
Strapping me in        Close quarters.
There are no faceless operators,
Unnoticed curb cuts,
Unrecognized doors held.
The city breathes with me,
Cuclunk
Cuclunk.

[CrescentEssence]

I think just wheels works well enough to convey the wheelchair without explicitly saying it. I also wish a bit I could feel the physical experience of being so connected to the way wheels roll on pavement as well as the social aspect that comes with it a little bit more. I genuinely love poetry that opens new perspectives and thrusts you into a first person view of something foreign like this one does to me. So maybe thats why I desire more details. But I do love the "cuclunk cuclunk." It gives such a solid ending and my mind really hears it, the ending sinks in.

[Knot]

Hi Micah.

Interesting subject, and I too like the 'cuclunk cuclunk' repetition (you might have had a third following 'I am the concrete heartbeat') but I struggle to see (or hear, for that matter) how they work with 'the city breathes with me'. Makes me think of an iron lung, or some other ventilation device.

I think you could probably cut the entire first line (sidewalk becomes clear with 'slabs' and 'wheels' is taken care of by the title.)


The sidewalk under my wheels[edit: wheelchair] goes
Cuclunk cuclunk.
These are my footsteps now.

The length of the slabs determine
The sound of my feet. ................ this seems to merely repeat what lines two and three have already said.

The city and its planners
Make decisions for me ............... either elaborate on this or cut it. Given the title, I'd suggest cutting it and replacing it with more 'rolling'.

In many ways now. ..................... you say 'many ways' but what are they?
I am that concrete heartbeat
Cuclunk cuclunk.

I make the bus driver known to me ..... Interesting. Him know to you, not the other way round? The phrasing seems a little awkward.
Strapping me in

Close quarters.
There are no faceless operators, ............ very nice.

Unnoticed curb cuts,
Unrecognized doors held. ............ these feel a little dry.

The city breathes with me, ......... don't understand 'breathes' at all. Wouldn't 'walks' or 'rolls' or something be better?
Cuclunk Cuclunk.




Best, Knot


.

[Mark A Becker]

Hello Micah-
You don't need to spell out that the N is in a wheelchair, as it becaomes apparent.

A personal note: I very much miss walking like I used to, and now rely upon a roller, aka walker. I appreciate that you approach the subject without pity.

I have rearranged you poem, without altering many of the words, while leaving some out:

Ode to the Rolling

The sidewalk
under my wheels goes
cu-clunk
cu-clunk.

These are my footsteps now-
the sound of the cracks
in concrete, the heartbeat
of me moving.

Accustomed to the bus
driver strapping me in;
every curb cut;
each door held.

This city and its planners
made descisions for me-
cu-clunk
cu-clunk.

[micah3801]

thank you for the replies! i appreciate the critiques and took them into consideration in my edit above.

[Bunx]

Ode to the Rolling 1st Edit: 

Cuclunk cuclunk- 
The length of the 
slabs determine 
The sound of my --maybe no "the" "slow sounds" or "the tone"
footsteps.
I am that
concrete heartbeat. --no "that" maybe try "I am concrete heartbeat"
The bus driver is known to me, -- Id get of the but maybe that's my bias
Strapping me in,  --"strapped close quarters"
Close quarters.
The city and its planners
Make decisions
For me, now.
No faceless operators,
Unsung curb cuts, ---love this line
Unknown cracks in the pavement. I'd cut unknown maybe try "weather or ware"
The city rolls with me,
Cuclunk
Cuclunk.


Original: 
Ode to the Rolling

The sidewalk under my wheels[edit: wheelchair] goes
Cuclunk cuclunk.
These are my footsteps now.
The length of the slabs determine
The sound of my feet.
The city and its planners
Make decisions for me
In many ways now.
I am that concrete heartbeat
I make the bus driver known to me
Strapping me in
Close quarters.
There are no faceless operators,
Unnoticed curb cuts,
Unrecognized doors held.
The city breathes with me,
Cuclunk
Cuclunk.

Love your edit just a few no ideas take em or leave them