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Baking Bread... [An East Main St. story]

Big, fat flakes of snow
Falling
Through the still air

Taking my time
Filling the coal bucket
From the dwindling supply
On the second floor porch

An ocean of white
Covering the yard
Hearing the buzz of life
Inside the apartment

Duty calls
Feed the kitchen furnace

Warmth flies out the open door
To be eaten by the winter cold
The smell of baking bread
Escapes
But is captured by my nose

Happy days
The tyrant not in residence
The atmosphere alcohol free
I hate his stinking breath

Mom's smiling
Life is great...

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
More memories of Main St.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Warmth flies out the open door
With the smell of baking bread
To be eaten by the winter cold
But captured by my nose.

But you know which is which better. These are after all your enjoyable memories.
Thanks for sharing Gee!!

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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For the critique and the comment, I will take your suggestions into consideration. After all, this is the place to come for critique and suggestions, isn't it? I'm glad that you enjoy my memories and I like to share them with those that can appreciate them. Thank you, ~ Gee

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author comment

I can almost smell the bread, and i have a perfect picture in my head, Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I can almost smell the bread! I'm glad that you developed a picture in your head, that means that I did a good job! Thanks Roscoe, ~ Gee

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author comment

I can smell the bread but I cannot feel the cold it seems I am melting here tonight so damn humid, like the tropics, this is a beautiful memory put to words and that ocean of white ? is such a mystery to me never having seen real snow falls, the year I went to the mountains it was very warm and there wasn't much snow to speak of, not like the snow your describing here

loved this piece you need to start trying out more like this ... shows a whole different aspect of you

and I love it

love and higgliest bugs sis xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I have every intention of doing more of these. I have a great many more memories of Main St.
I like this mode of streaming thought and the idea that I can reach many people and touch their minds with things that they might have little or no knowledge of. Killer is off again
and I am not sure when he will return. I think he is doing a Walk-about in Aussie-land or some such thing. As far as snow goes, this is the winter that everyone is saying we didn't have! The only snow we have left is the slight residue of white that fell today and the ugly black and gray icy shit that was pushed into corners where the sun doesn't shine. Global warming is here and we might as well get used to it! Love ya, ~ Gee.

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author comment

about the suggestions that Rula made, but think they border too closely to making rhyme and that is the one thing that I wanted to avoid in these works. I want to explore this mode more fully and whenever I get to thinking of the next line in a rhyming sort of way, I back off and try to come at the line a different direction. The only thing I changed was; the addition of [is] in the line about my nose capturing the smell of the baking bread. ~ Gee.

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author comment

reminds me of some of my own childhood memories, when winter lasted for a while and snow was common. I also like a the idea of a series of these, like looking through someone's photo album. The only suggestion I would make would be to lose the ellipses. I just hate that form of punctuation. For me they make this down-to-earth, moving, but not sentimental, poem a little pretentious. This work reminds me of two of my favorites - Roethke's My Papa's Waltz and Hardy's Birds at Winter Nightfall, a darkness present in all three.

the ellipses for the last line, because I felt that the line was not finished. I mean, that it was for me, but leaving them, made it a
sort of lost in thought finish. If you know what I mean? I have gone through most of the poems that I consider a part of the East Main St. series and marked them as such. I think there may be a few more, and there are definitely a few more to write. Thank you for the read and comment. ~ Geez.
.

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author comment

Geez do you know
TIME never stands still
and you are posting 2016 poems
NOW HAVE BECOME '
HISTORY
LOL
See I am 82 nearing and still fresh ones composing
you don't find time to read
OK then give me a pubs id ... PUBLISHER'S GEEZ
not any pub kind

who will publish me
some profit if any
will go for life long
no not of Neo
but mine
to NEO'S
LOL

meant to be republished. I only meant to place the [An East Main St. Story] next to the title. Somehow, that fact got them put up on the New Updates list. Yes, eighty-two and still as big an ego-centric personality [or maybe bigger] than ever. Though to your mind, it may; the world does not revolve around you. Why do you make it so? ~ Geez.
.

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author comment

I accept
to please you
you don't care of any feelings
I'm still happy
to find a friend like me
in you
lol
tis true
Geezzzzzzzzzz

And so, naught shall ever change him
His life is there for all to see
He puts it up for looking like
What does it mean to me?

Yet, you see that it does matter
In between the lines
There is a heart that has some love
But it withers on the vine

He must say; I'm great as any
Even as you are my hero
I love the world and say it
But look at my big ego!

If indeed, I must have one
It has to be the best
It shall have a different name
How about Narcissist?

I will have to give him that
His mind is spry, his heart is full
Never giving up to be important
Without him, my life be dull .
.

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author comment

Get this lovely poemy posted on Neo's FB
tell RULA WILL YE
LOL FRIEND YE BE
U and I both have EGO/NARCISSISTIC DEGREE
HE HE

incorrigible! ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment
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