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Thread: Man in the Park -- Revised (CTG)

  1. #1
    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    Default Man in the Park -- Revised (CTG)

    Here's a rewrite of this difficult poem. Any help much appreciated. Thanks in advance.

    Man in the Park

    My two short-trousered pals ran when
    the young man called out to us,
    more experienced than I was (afraid

    of fireworks, the sea). He stood
    head bent by the rusty fence,
    ginger brylcreemed hair, stink of

    cologne, flashy tie. With
    a low voice, he coaxed me
    to touch -- "like milking a cow."

    Somehow, my parents knew --
    I lay across my bed, felt
    the sting of Daddy's belt.

    I'd thought evil was ugly trolls
    under bridges not guys with
    gaudy ties, stinky cologne;

    I later heard that blokes preyed
    on children in parks, in local
    alleys. I'd been warned about

    strangers but no one told me
    what they'd do to me. The copper said,
    "Tell me in your own words--"

    A boy should tell the truth,
    not go to the park. Rusty railings,
    poplars where I hunted caterpillars.

    Christopher T. George


    Original version--

    The Monster. . . the Mystery

    I want to bury the memory, walk
    out on the movie of my life,
    leave the cinema for ever.

    The young man in the Liverpool park:
    ginger Brylcreemed hair, stink
    of cologne, noisy silk tie.


    ADVERTISING




    My short-trousered friends ran away
    but I lingered. He spoke to me.
    What happened next?

    Somehow my parents knew about it --
    bad little boy! The police station,
    the sting of Daddy's leather belt.

    Evil was ugly trolls under bridges
    not guys with bright ties, bad cologne.
    Later, I would know that men approached

    little girls and boys in parks,
    in local alleyways. The constable said,
    "Christopher, tell me in your own words--"

    Children should always tell the truth,
    shouldn't go to the park. Rusted railings,
    trees where I hunted for caterpillars.

    What happened? I still want to know about
    the man -- but don't want to know more
    about The Monster. . . the Mystery.
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

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    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    Any comments appreciated... I have rewritten yet once more. This happened in Wavertree Playground circa 1954.

    Chris
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

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    Senior Member Marty1's Avatar
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    I don't think you need any help Chris, it's fine as it is, better than Original version in my opinion !

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    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    Thank you, Marty. This poem is considered to be entered into a poetry contest here in the US of A so I want to make it as good as it could be. Thanks for your opinion.

    All the best

    Chris
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

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    Senior Member Marty1's Avatar
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    Let us know how you get on in the contest Chris !

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    Came fourth...now what? Oudeis's Avatar
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    They both tell the story well. The first may be a bit much for American tastes the "milking a cow" comment is where it gets sticky (if you'll pardon my light heartedness). You know your audience. Good luck with it.

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    Senior Member ChrisGeorge's Avatar
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    Thanks, Marty and Oudeis. Yes I will let you know how I get on in the contest.

    All the best

    Chris
    Christopher T. George
    Editor, Ripperologist
    Editor, Loch Raven Review
    http://christophertgeorge.blogspot.com/
    Chris on Flickr and on MySpace

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    A little yarn sent to me by a pallin the US.


    Should I Really Join Facebook ? (Priceless)


    Should give you a good laugh !!!

    REALLY quite true!!

    When I bought my Blackberry, I thought about the thirty-year business I ran with 1800 employees, all without a cell phone that plays music, takes videos, pictures, and communicates with Facebook and Twitter. I signed up under duress for Twitter and Facebook , so my seven kids, their spouses, 13 grandkids and 2 great-grand kids could communicate with me in the modern way. I figured I could handle something as simple as Twitter with only 140 characters of space.

    That was before one of my grandkids hooked me up for Tweeter, Tweetree, Twhirl, Twitterfon, Tweetie and Twittererific Tweetdeck, Twitpix and something that send s every message to my cell phone and every other program within the texting world.

    My phone was beeping every three minutes with the details of everything except the bowel movements of the entire next generation. I am not ready to live like this. I keep my cell phone in the garage in my golf bag.

    The kids bought me a GPS for my last birthday because they say I get lost every now and then going over to the grocery store or library. I keep that in a box under my tool bench with the Blue Tooth [it's red] phone I am supposed to use when I drive. I wore it once and was standing in line at Barnes and Noble talking to my wife and everyone in the nearest 50 yards was glaring at me. I had to take my hearing aid out to use it, and I got a little loud.

    I mean the GPS looked pretty smart on my dash board, but the lady inside that gadget was the most annoying, rudest person I had run into in a long time. Every 10 minutes, she would sarcastically say, "Re-calc-u-latin g." You would think that she could be nicer. It was like she could barely tolerate me. She would let go with a deep sigh and then tell me to make a U-turn at the next light. Then if I made a right turn instead. Well, it was not a good relationship.
    When I get really lost now, I call my wife and tell her the name of the cross streets and while she is starting to develop the same tone as Gypsy the GPS lady, at least she loves me.

    To be perfectly frank, I am still trying to learn how to use the cordless phones in our house. We have had them for 4 years, but I still haven't figured out how I can lose three phones all at once and have to run around digging under chair cushions and checking bathrooms and the dirty laundry baskets when the phone rings.

    The world is just getting too complex for me. They even mess me up every time I go to the grocery store. You would think they could settle on something themselves but this sudden "Paper or plastic?" every time I chec k out just knocks me for a loop. I bought some of those cloth reusable bags to avoid looking confused, but I never remember to take them in with me.

    Now I toss it back to them. When they ask me, "Paper or plastic?" I just say, "Doesn't matter to me. I am bi-sacksual." Then it's their turn to stare at me with a blank look. I was recently asked if I tweet. I answered, "No, but I do toot a lot."

    P.S. I know some of you are not over 50. I sent it to you to allow you to forward it to those who are.
    We senior citizens don't need anymore gadgets. The TV remote and the garage door remote are about all we can handle.
















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