Sometimes, coming up with an idea to write about is difficult, and one is forced to look through the toolbox to find something to cling to to pull from. For me, the last thing I try and reach for is rhyme - it's not that it's a bad tool, but for me, it just feels like I could do something that's more indicative of "me." But today is one of those days when I have to reach into the arsenal of literary weaponry. What do I choose today? The antithesis!!!!
It's a great little tool - set the reader up, and then pull away the proverbial rug from under their feet....right before hitting the message bluntly. The idea is to cement the image or feeling into the reader in a more concrete fashion, thus engaging the reader on an emotional level. It's an effective tool, and one that can be quite fun on occasion. Anyway, that's what I'm reaching for today!
some cities are romantic when it rains,
but not mine,
some look like glittery jewels
with a time and fancy all their own,
with church bells ringing their muted tones
and old buildings reflecting off puddles gathered in cobbled streets.
but not mine.
they remind me of the movies,
with narrow alleys and dusty gin-joints
where villains conspire against a hero with a fast car
and a mean right hook.
or a comedy about lonely people
who meet at a park bench along a river walk
because a breeze blew a piece of paper out of his hand and into hers.
but not mine.
those things don't happen here.
that's not what this city does.
we do work, we do struggle and toil,
we do calloused hands and sweaty, sooty clothes,
and basement entrances where a make-shift shower and commode
sit out in the open
because papa came back from the mill and mama
wouldn't let him use the front door.
here, we do gritty,
the whistle blows, and we don't have time for romance,
even when it rains.
Thanks for reading,
Me
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