Thread: A Man Lost

A Man Lost

Searching for home far from where his heart was.
lost in another time where brick and mortar still remain.
His vision clouded with memory of gardens and smiling faces,
charred and vacant soil greets him as images become sensation.

Newspapers litter the porch company for a wicker chair and swing. An iron door stands guard testament to craftmanship.
The doormat as always says welcome home.

The man can not open the door of his memory.
He can not quicken the ashes of the oak frame
or assemble the crumbled bricks in his thoughts.

He is just a lost man in an empty lot searching for home.

Originally Posted by playerpiano

A Man Lost

Searching for home, far from where his heart was,
lost in another time where brick and mortar still remain.
His vision clouded with memory of gardens and smiling faces,
charred and vacant soil greets him as images become sensation.

Newspapers litter the porch company for a wicker chair and swing. An iron door stands guard, testament to craftmanship.
The doormat, as always, says "Welcome home".

The man cannot open the door of his memory.
He cannot quicken the ashes of the oak frame
or assemble the crumbled bricks in his thoughts.

He is just a lost man in an empty lot, searching for home.

Good to see you posting again, Gabrial. A nice picture poem with some good images and feelings. The punctuation threw me a little and I've made a suggested edit.

Some changes to stop getting tripped up by formatting and punctuation. I hope that this flows better.





A Man Lost

A man can be lost knowing his destination.
This man was searching for home,
far from where his heart was.

His heart was in another time,
Where brick and mortar still remain.
The house no longer stands.
yet the man kept walking,
looking for home.

He holds a picture in his mind,
of hedges and gardens bricks and wood.
Even as he sees charred and vacant soil,
The images become sensations.

The scent of the grass fills the air,
A portrait of perfectly manicured green.
Unread newspapers litter the porch,
Accompanying an old wicker chair and a swing.

A wrought iron door stands guard,
testament to craftsmanship.
The doormat as always says welcome home,
Waiting patiently for the man to enter.

The man can not open the door though memory.
He can not quicken the ashes of the oak frame,
Or assemble the crumbled bricks in his thoughts.
He is a lost man in an empty lot searching for home.

This flows better, for sure. If you're not going for the original picture format I suggest you just left align it. Centre format, unless there's a good reason for it, always has that "Hallmark" look.

I absolutely enjoy this piece. This may be my 8th time reading it; each time I am more and more impressed with the imagery, the impact, the way it evokes through its simple words and phrases. Such a wonderful achievement, Playerpiano.

I did notice one thing, which may be a typeo, forgotten word, or just plain me being over analytical- 6th stanza/first line/"The man can not open the door though memory."

It seems "though" should be either through or though a.

Nonetheless, still impressive, Playerpiano. Thanks for sharing.

Originally Posted by playerpiano

A Man Lost

Searching for home far from where his heart was.
lost in another time where brick and mortar still remain.
His vision clouded with memory of gardens and smiling faces,
charred and vacant soil greets him as images become sensation.

Newspapers litter the porch company for a wicker chair and swing.
An iron door stands guard testament to craftmanship.
The doormat as always says welcome home.

The man can not open the door of his memory.
He can not quicken the ashes of the oak frame
or assemble the crumbled bricks in his thoughts.

He is just a lost man in an empty lot searching for home.

LOve the structure. With the one line moved, it looks like a stool where the old man is resting.

I really enjoyed this poem. I definitely like the structure of the second post. I was going to make a couple suggestions but you put them there already. My favorite line is "

lost in another time where brick and mortar still remain."

I really like the reworked version. The new first stanza:

A man can be lost knowing his destination.
This man was searching for home,
far from where his heart was.

It made it much easier to understand the poem as a whole because of how you set it up. Also, the addition of these lines:

The house no longer stands.
yet the man kept walking,
looking for home.

He holds a picture in his mind,
of hedges and gardens bricks and wood.

made the poem less abstract, or should I say more clear about the separation between the memory of the home and what was left of the house. But my favorite line is:

He cannot quicken the ashes of the oak frame,

I like the imagery of this line in particular.

Seeing the way you reworked many of the lines even though you didnt change the order of them really shows how well you write considering just how much better it made the second poem.

I think you should work on your rhythm. Let the words flow. A poem is as important for its delivery as it is for its content. I can't think of anything to improve upon what others have said about this particular piece.

I was moved by this piece. Well done on the edits. It's a worthwhile piece.