Death the Conductor

Death the Conductor

Oh ye of little faith, alas
your dream is found upon folly;
you prayed last night, your stop I’d pass,
but now you must board the trolley.

By flight of common fancy, some
mean to challenge my humble craft.
Alas they find their turn does come
evasive efforts seem quite daft.

The chance has not occurred to date,
my car was less a vacant spot,
my wary clients boarded late,
or my vehicle lie in shop.

A clanking hand, chalk white gristle,
circles the rope just as a vine,
at each stop he yanks the whistle
and coolly asks, “End of the line?”

I like this piece. Is very simple and easy to read. I don't see anything wrong with its structure or anything. Nice use fo vocab. and you did an excellent job with the imagery.. good job hun, keep it up.

keep droppin

please reply to my poem
In the Art of Love...



....bless

This was nice aka. I liked how this felt dark and old like. It felt like some Edgar Allen Poe type stuff alomost. This was short and I thought that the read was still good. Nice job keep writting.

Cool poem, this was worded very neatly. Not too complex, but not too simple either. You used roughly 8 syllables in each bar, and stuck to the rhythm nicely. So yeah, this was a fairly refreshing read. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the metaphors are grasping at though. I'm guessing... that the 'end of the line' is symbolic of a death? Regardless, I liked this piece a lot. Thought provoking stuff. It's good to see you still around here.

thanks for the feedback yall. I'm trying to write in death's voice that's why it sounds like it does and yes end of the line is like heaven or hell and boarding the trolley is being dead. I'll hot you all back later