This Poem was Submitted By: Joyce P. Hale On Date: 2005-07-16 14:11:19 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The City Masculine

He wakens from a vivid dream, eyes still hazed with sleep; stretches like a sinewy cat, last night's clothes in a heap. He is the urban corporate world always driving hard to win; his the high-powered politics where careers both end and begin. He is the vendor on the curb, the beggar by the door; the povery-stricken streetgangs, and the drug- and alcohol-lure. Then when the streetlamps brighten and the shadows darken long, when the nighthawks and the owls patter forth to do their wrong.... Why then he struts among them all prepared to be their Lord! He's the City; he's the vessel in which all their dreams are poured.      

Copyright © July 2005 Joyce P. Hale


This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2005-08-06 12:25:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Joyce, For me, this piece is a devine one. It speaks of the Almighty. It speaks of the features where a through masculinity is seen with respect and pride! Great work! Jordan


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-07-21 21:42:44
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.52174
Joyce, He wakens from a vivid dream, eyes still hazed with sleep; stretches like a sinewy cat, last night's clothes in a heap. {so typically masculine, execellent discriptiong} He is the urban corporate world always driving hard to win; his the high-powered politics where careers both end and begin. {totally metropolitian, reminiscent of Manhattan} He is the vendor on the curb, the beggar by the door; the povery-stricken streetgangs, and the drug- and alcohol-lure. {great discriptions of all the difference found in the city} Then when the streetlamps brighten and the shadows darken long, when the nighthawks and the owls patter forth to do their wrong.... { I especially like the line about highthawks and the owls, reminds me of the song "Heart of the nightowl, believe by Air Supply} Why then he struts among them all prepared to be their Lord! He's the City; he's the vessel in which all their dreams are poured. {in this sense you have painted the duplicity like that of the nature of man, very clever.} Pleasant read, great illiteration and assonace.....easy to read, flows well and good structure. I enjoyed this, you need to put this and the other over pictures and hang them as a pair...Thanks for the read. As Always, Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-07-19 16:21:31
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Poet.....must say this too has been an enjoyable read......Your poem about the opposite reference to the female portion deserved a friend to share the days and nights with as well. The word flow allows for a rougher read, as men are more masculine as they say. They tend to be more aggressive too not only in work but in play as well, sports, etc. good structure, the word flow allowed for the images to be created along with the emotions played out. Wonder if the City ever sleeps....... Thanks for posting and sharing with us. God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2005-07-17 15:39:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
Joyce--I like it! Your previous post certaintly deserved a politically correct sequel/ response and you've delivered in style-smile. This verbiage definitely a bit more rough and tough; aggressive and competitive; egocentric and testosterone laden("...Masculine). Although not as dramatic are as well rhymed as the "woman" slant, when combined, these two versions are probably a more accurate portrayal of the city in earnest (the city is a hermaphrodite if you will). Sorry if I've missed the taxi-smile. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-07-16 21:08:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.91667
Marvelous! I smiled all the way. Great rhyming to boot. Loved the last stanza. I really liked your analogy between the 2nd and 3rd stanzas. A lot of people live in the cities to pursue their dreams. For me I've had enough of that...fog, smog, traffic, crowded streets, well you get the idea. So now I live 100 metres from the ocean on a little plot, and it's quiet here. Glad you took my suggestion. I'll put it on my list.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rebecca B. Whited On Date: 2005-07-16 20:57:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.72727
Joyce, Now, you surprise me with the city in masculine form! I look forward to the read! "He wakens from a vivid dream, eyes still hazed with sleep; stretches like a sinewy cat, last night's clothes in a heap." [whether the city is male or female [in your other poem], it still wakes up amid a mess of flury!] "He is the urban corporate world always driving hard to win; his the high-powered politics where careers both end and begin." [nice image of success created here] "He is the vendor on the curb, the beggar by the door; the povery-stricken streetgangs, and the drug- and alcohol-lure." [and the opposite image created here of the not so successful] "Then when the streetlamps brighten and the shadows darken long, when the nighthawks and the owls patter forth to do their wrong...." [it takes a turn here, and the night life is portrayed as one of street's formidable foes, undesireable activities] Why then he struts among them all prepared to be their Lord! He's the City; he's the vessel in which all their dreams are poured. [the last stanza leaves me with the feeling that it is the nighthawks/owls who do wrong that are the winners here...and he, the city, is their lord...yet, he is the vessel in which all their dreams are poured...is that the image you desired to create? I may be reading too much into the ending, but it left me with the feeling that all their dreams are for naught.] Good read and good imagery here, and the metaphor of city/man works well for me. I would just like to see it end on a more positive note. In looking over it again, I do see that you probably meant the dreams of the successful and downtrodden alike are to be poured into his vessel...it is just that you leap so quickly from the next to the last stanza into the final one, that my mind only associates it with loss.] Later, Beck
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