Balconies and concrete stairs,
beery piss in broken lifts,
every night the same old prayers,
someone get us out of here.
Tightrope walking on the fence,
leap the gap between the sheds,
long walk to the traffic lights,
sideswiped by a motorbike.
Buttercups and dandelions
crowd long grass by rusty gates;
in the alley, shadows fall
where the friendly flasher waits.
Kim M. Russell, 2018
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar: Tanaga
Frank is our host this Thursday, bringing us the tanaga, a short form from the Philippines, which comes in stanzas of four lines with seven syllables per line. It often rhymes, but it can have variable end rhyme patterns. The tanaga is part of the oral tradition of the Tagalog language going back to the early 16th century. One example is the English poem, ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star’ written by Jane Taylor and published in Rhymes for the Nursery in 1806. Frank says that she probably wasn’t trying to write a tanaga, but the form of her poem matches the tanaga as well as a variation of common meter.
Frank would like us to write tanaga poems of one or more stanzas.
You described a place well that one might want to get out of.
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I love the grittiness …. the friendly flasher was especially surprising..
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And the bloom among the fences… somehow there has to be some yellow flashes that hold you back, even if it’s just a dandelion.
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He really existed.
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I like the contrast between the sort of cheery rhyme and the ominous setting. Was there a flasher for real?
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There were several in the alleys that ran along the sides of the playing field. It was quite grotty, especially down by the paint factory and the railway lines.
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Ewww.
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Childhood memories aren’t all rosy.
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No, they’re not.
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😦
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Excellent sensory imagery! The tone is crystal clear.
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Thank you, Jill.
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What powerful images – the last line about the friendly flasher was a bit of a jolt, and to me that’s a really good piece of poetry, it leaves you lots to think about after you read it. Well done!
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Thank you so much, Jo!
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Sounds pretty gritty, a good place to be from, far, far away from. You brought the seamy side of life to life
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It wasn’t all bad, Walter. I think as a child I was too busy playing to notice it – my parents did all the worrying.
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Ha, that’s true
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Great grimy imagery. I wonder if it’s changed (for the better) these days.
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The last time I went back it seemed to have got worse.
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dark views…..
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As children, we didn’t see it that way. It’s strange what you remember as you get older.
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Ah, the City Life.. 😎🥀😎🥀😎🥀😎🥀
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Cheers Dorna!
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You evoked your childhood memories vividly Kim ~ I specially like Buttercups and dandelion,not the friendly flasher ~
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Thanks Grace 🙂
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Phew! If that’s what it was like there, I don’t mind my childhood city at all! Descriptive and yet… polite. Don’t think I could’ve managed that myself… especially not with “Uncle Ernie.”
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One time there were three of us by the trees and we knew a man was hiding there. So we pretended our fathers were all policemen and that we had been learning martial arts. We ended up chasing him across the playing field! Dangerous, but as kids you just don’t realise.
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Perhaps you’ll turn that into a haibun sometime. Not certain of the kigo word, though.
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Now you’ve made me think!
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🙂
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Cities can be sad places to grow up. I did not have that experience but there are things everywhere children have to encounter. I like your very descriptive poem.
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Thank you, Mary.
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Love the story behind this one…. sound like a dangerous place for little girls! Love the picture!
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Thank you, Dwight. Our parents warned us about the alleys along the playing field but we were typical children and ignored them. I don’t think we realised quite how dangerous it could be.
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Children never do!
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Artfully sad. I like it.
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Thank you, Nan.
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Nicely done , Kim! You told a tale with vivid images. Children’s lives are fraught with danger…scary…if we dare stop to think how much danger.
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Back then we weren’t really worried. We heard about it, especially after the Moors murders, but it seems so far away and we thought it only happened to other people. And then someone tried to pull me into a car on my way home from my nan’s house – the long way round to avoid the alley! I think it was being interviewed by the police that scared me the most.
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Oh my! What an experience!😮😮
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kaykuala
in the alley, shadows fall
where the friendly flasher waits.
To think this is London! Gosh, dashed much hopes of a memorable visit!
Hank
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It’s not all bad 🙂
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It vividly shows the image of early London with a simple language. Great write.
Visit, follow and encourage
https://crapboxwords.wordpress.com/category/awakened-poems-within-me/
https://crapboxwords.wordpress.com/category/awakened-poems-within-me/
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A wonderful story. OUr flasher wasn’t friendly, but we were allowed to be independent and free and we learned to spot danger and run fast….haha.
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Did you grab the sweets first?
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The form says childhood, nursery rhymes; your words evoke childhood, with a child’s honesty. It ain’t pretty, but this is pretty damn good poetry.
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Thank you so much!
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Brings back memories – some happy, some sad.
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I still miss it, though.
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I miss my parents, but not the estate I grew up on.
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I miss the freedom of childhood, running up and down the balconies, the tiny playground that seemed huge, and long summer days.
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Knock Down Ginger, and being young and thinking you would live forever!
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😊
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Spring in the crowded urban city………imagery is strong here, Kim. It’s quite a shift from what we stereotypically think of when we hear the word “spring”….but it’s a reality.
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Now I live in the country and miss the city only sometimes.
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So imagestic and place-setting! I felt like I was right there with you!
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Thanks Frank!
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Very evocative x
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Thank you!
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The strange joy in poverty .
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I think that’s true. Not long after we moved to Norfolk, we lost our jobs, had a thirteen year-old to cater for, and managed on less than £50 a week. We took pleasure in things like walking on the beach, playing Scrabble and listening to The Rock Show on a Sunday evening. No Internet, no holidays abroad, but we were happy.
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