This Poem was Submitted By: C Arrownut On Date: 2003-09-24 18:29:48 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Traffic Light

                                                         Traffic Light The angels sit atop the trees with a light in each hand, red and green, stop and go, like a traffic light of insanity. On green, it can surge into  some unknowing… Or stop cold at red. As the eyes descend, the trees  broaden through  blinking bulbs and hanging elves that jangle on artificial limbs. Down, down, down, to the various-sized Christmas tins, all closed for the red lights. Then without warning: green light. The tins wobble, jump and dance as the lids loosen, and fly off through the trees, crashing, smashing into  our insane condition that forces us to search and probe beyond the glare of our gods.  

Copyright © September 2003 C Arrownut

Additional Notes:
I'm not sure what exactly I meant to convey here, but decided to put it up to find out how it looks to others.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen A. Morris On Date: 2003-10-05 18:55:07
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
C., now this is a strange one. The first thing that strikes me is Christmas traffic, both cars on the streets and people in the stores. It seems like it just gets worse each year in the sense that people have lost the courtesy they used to show each around Christmas, and I think your poem presents this vividly, even down the Christmas decorations on the streets and in the stores even before Thanksgiving now. A very perceptive poem and quite timely. Excellent images blend all of the above together. Good Going. Ellen


This Poem was Critiqued By: Litz Herschel On Date: 2003-10-05 13:57:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi C. I went to the Archives to see if you had anymore poems and you did. This one I'm not sure about unless it is the materialistic attitude toward Christmas. The buying til we drop is a form of insanity and I enjoyed the way you described the Christmas tree: Angel, lights, bulbs, elves and broading down to tins, which I think mean presents, too many gifts that is. Fascinating images. Thanks for sharing. Good Luck with this one.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2003-10-04 10:14:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.93103
It is always enjoayable to be read and attempt to interpret your metaphor rich work [-The][]ngels sit atop the trees with a light in each hand, red and green, stop and go, like a traffic light of insanity. On green, it can surge into some unknowing… Or stop cold at red. Yes... the traffic lights of our life .. the things that stop us cold or allow us to proceed - angels? Sure...why not? Here, near Los Angeles: El Pueblo de la Riena de Los Angeles, The city of the Queen of the Angeles - and the traffic capitol of the West... your allusion is especially poignant As the eyes descend, the trees broaden through blinking bulbs and hanging elves that jangle on artificial limbs. Down, down, down, down to the odd commercialisation of the holiday, with its artificial, manufactured, joy to the various-sized Christmas tins, all closed for the red lights. Then without warning: green light. The tins wobble, jump and dance as the lids loosen, and fly off through the trees, crashing, smashing into our insane condition that forces us to search and probe beyond the glare of our gods. Yes...wow..the "tins" were a surprise which makes me think of "canned" holidays, tinsel, cookies and faith all in one grand metaphor
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2003-10-01 10:31:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.44118
Surely I can see the angels as they sit upon the traffic lights toying with the minds and sight of those passing by but for what purpose I ask myself......stop, go, come , leave. Are we dealing with life here poet? Of the choices we make, the turns we might find ourselfs within and the roads that lead to where we might be heading......those hanging elves seem to confuse me some .....though perhaps you are at a holiday festival of lights.....then yes, the blinking of red, green, the elves and who knows what else.......still I tend to think life here might be a bit blinding for some.....Christmas tins.....open, shut, filled with whatever one might want to place inside.....some people stand outside of stores with these tins in hopes others might fill them with money to give to the poor......is such a possibility at this time? I wonder.....then we come to the reality of God......does one actually exist....some ask themselves over and over again and then I have to answer in all honestly YES God is alive and well and He does love and care for each of us.....I was held by God, felt His breath a few years back as He kissed my cheek as I laid dying in His arms......and yes, my friend this has been an interesting read, constructed well, words flow allowing the reader to see and feel what each might want within the lines and again that is a great thing to accomplish. Thank you for sharing this with us, you are a deep poet, one that is not afraid to explore the possibility of sight, sounds, emotions, etc., Be safe, God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Julie Ann Ruengert On Date: 2003-09-28 22:49:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.70000
I will try to critique your poem The angels sit atop the trees,--8 with a light in each hand,--6 flickering a wild red and green:--8 trafic lights of madness,--6 seen the happiest time of year.--8 The green departs,-4 or stops at red.-4 As eyes descend opon foliage,--8 prickly, course lit branches,--6 they see light bulbs and hanging elves--8 on artificial limbs.--6 while gazing down, down to the ground.--8 The green departs,-4 or stops at red.-4 Littered below are many treats--8 presents from paper green--6 maybe even from plastic red--8 The children will not know--6 the joyful sanity involved.--8 The green departs,-4 or stops at red.-4 Lights sparkle faster, green and red,--8 Tins wobble jump and dance,--6 paper and lids fly everywhere,--8 Real insanity starts:--6 covers the real meaning of it. The green departs,-4 or stops at red.-4 With this one pressure upon us,--8 the beauty of the lights,--6 will enchant us to search and shop.--8 Unaware of Gods eyes,6 the green departs and starts at red.8 This is what I got out of your verse. The numbers at the end of each sentence stands for the amount of sylables in each sentence--this is putting meter to a poem to make it flow better. Good poetry starts with thoughts put together in writing and you had a good thought that could be taken many ways. It is getting near Christmas and people will go insane with shopping, spending to much money, maxing out their credit cards, putting up the christmas lights and when the day comes to open gifts, paper will fly, tin can and lids will fly. This lasts a day and its over. The end of your verse was good. The holidays will come and some don't remember what it really stands for. I would continue to write. Sometimes when my thoughts don't come out real clear, I have to figure it out before I can put it into poetry. This verse started out with Christmas lights, ornaments and the tree and turned into green money and red for credit cards. This goes to show what you can do with your thoughts. Sometimes the meaning that you have for a poem isn't the same as the reader. I hope I helped and keep writing because this poetry site is a place that will help you put thoughts into poetry.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Goff On Date: 2003-09-28 19:23:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
CA, neither am I sure of what you meant to convey with "Traffic Lights". As in "Blinded" you make comparisons that are interesting, but for my own personal little brain, a little too graphically oriented, which sort of takes my thought off of what you are really trying to convey. But then you said you did not know what you were trying to say, so I guess I understand that. I tried imagining your piece as someone sitting in wonderment looking at a Christmas tree whose thought meandered to other happenings throughout life. ??? Maybe that's it? Good cadence, line breaks and all the other stuff that makes up good poetry... except, I am left a little cold by it's non-meaning. I'll read more of your pieces. Sincerely, JPJ.
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2003-09-25 21:12:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.45455
Hello C. This is a very intriging piece that I have read several times. I must admit I am not tuned into your meaning but there is something so compelling about it that one cannot let go without down some thoughts. "The angles sit atop the trees" I like this idea and I can see that the words then become playful...with "a light in each hand"...... "like a traffic light of insanity" Playful..interesting...unexpected. ..."The eyes descend the trees broaden"...this is a true observation as the trees do get wider as they go from top to bottom..astute.. I am not sure what happened with the poor hanging elves but the idea is funny when you think about it...."us to probe and search beyond the glare of our gods"....this is my favorite line..just wonderful. All in all I love this piece but someone with more poetic saavy will have to probe into the meaning. Loved it... Peace...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2003-09-25 16:25:57
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.78947
Hi C, I am excited once again to have your poem on top of critiquing list. I remember your previous submission that I critiqued entitled departed spirit. I can compare this one with the previous one the way your mind soared like there seems to be mysterious effect behind the poem. In the Departed Spirits, the mystery seemed to be conveyed in the last line in which you pointed out "His spirit still here cleansing me as if he lives,... unlike the earth, the soul and goblins don’t exist.. With this one Traffic Light, you associated the idea of angels, elves and "Christmas tins" which gives me a little puzzle and mystery. And the last line is a kinda puzzling "our insane condition that forces us to search and probe beyond the glare of our gods." It makes me ponder deeply. Behind this mysterious connotation, I find this poem as a fun. I can visualize the imagery of the angels sitting atop the trees bringing the signal stop and go. There seems to be lively connotation just making a fancy play! But it is striking to note that you made use of the simile to liken the situation with a traffic of insanity. Well, when you think of an insane thing, you can usually associate that the things are going abnormal! Haha! I am just chuckled with this idea! And the playful effect is being created in this input: As the eyes descend, the trees broaden through blinking bulbs and hanging elves that jangle on artificial limbs. Down, down, down, Mysterious is the idea conveyed by the trees suddenly broaden through the blinking bulbs and hanging elves jangle on the artificial limbs. Mysteriously funny! I am wondering if when the elves jangle on artificial limb produces an irritating sound, because when you say "jangle" it is usually associated with discordant irritating sound. I am thinking of the jingle bell sound produced with the Christmas tins! And finally you associated the picture of the wobbling, jumping and the dancing (maybe you can use dangling) of the Christmas tins and it seems to bring the idea of men's insane minds. Yeah, it is true that when we have this bungling minds, it tends to explore the unknown or beyond the glare of our gods! I just have a funny and perplexing experience with this one, C! Thank you very much for sharing. I hope I am able to give an insane input with this one or maybe my mind wobbles and dangles and fly off to the point of nowhere (together with the Christmas tins?) Smile! Jordan
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2003-09-25 09:56:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.37500
I see the angels as the controllers guiding those below. Giving them direction by letting them know they can move forward on the path they have selected. They also have the ability to stop one proceeding on a path that can be destructive allowing one to hold on a minute before continuing the journey. The biggest journey is being true to ourselves and not hurting others. We must search for the answers but remember that we do have those that guide us. Well there you go my interpretation that is probably in center field now. As you know I do like free form yet the structure is still important. Sometimes I felt lost not continuing the flow maybe that was intended? The stanza that stopped me even though I sensed green was: to the various-sized Christmas tins, all closed for the red lights. Then without warning: green light. Just some thoughts. Thanks for making me look into this piece, but I usually do anyway that is what I enjoy; trying to see meaning within a poem. Thanks for sharing. Tom
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jane A Day On Date: 2003-09-24 20:44:38
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
C, I think the poem could be strengthened if you kept it as a straight metaphor and left out the like of simile.--like a traffic light of insanity.-- I think you can show the reader this connection better. I am unclear on "insanity" and exactly what that means through out the poem. Could you gives some concrete language. The opening image is engaging but I then get lost about what is being compared. Thanks so much for sharing, J
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