Beneath the Flowers - a poem

[McCloud]

Play a game of Russian roulette, with a toy cap gun.
Speak in front of an audience while wearing a silly hat;
Have friends in the audience to clap for you.
Fly to Asia, Africa, Australia. Avoid the tours and explore.
Eat strange new dishes. (make sure they’re properly prepared)

Chase after a lover, compose a song, clear your mind
Of all thoughts, compare oranges in the farmer’s market, create an
Award winning painting, call an old friend, crunch food softly,
Camp outside a theater for tickets to your favorite show,
Cackle at a devious prank. (help the person afterwards)

Form a superhero team to tackle an imminent threat,
In your backyard. Lose yourself to acoustics and soft words.
Play outside when it’s raining, run through the woods, the city,
The next street down. Never be too old to slide down a slide,
Or swing on the swings. (try backflips off the swings)

Be the extra who dies in the movie,
Of a violent zombie death. Laugh and point
At the home movies you’ve created. Photograph
Everything, make a scrapbook of change. Share memories
With anyone who cares to listen. (remember their name)

Love, love, love. Tell the world. Extravagance
Only sweetens the outcome. Make best friends of all your friends.
Forgive them for their betrayals. Drink to them,
Be merry, laughter cleanses the soul.
Make Valentine’s Day, every day. (don’t buy gifts)

Don’t pursue silence; be content with raucous laughter,
Stop worrying. Stop worrying. Stop worrying.
Order is nonexistent, bask in the chaos. Trust your luck, trust yourself
Play dead if you’re hit, in a dart gun war. Wait for the next game to start.
Roll the die. (decide for yourself whether or not to blow)

Be envious that you could not help first, then forget envy and help anyway,
Learn to fly, look good in what you wear, night’s just upside down day.
Dance to the funk and fire, cool yourself off with water.
See the world in a different light. (buy some 3-D glasses)

Listen to those who speak of death, and remind them of life.
Lay beside them on a hill and stare at the sky,
Lift a finger, touch the sky.
Live every single day.
Everything’s all right in the end. (have a wonderful life)

A poem done for AP English Literature - was required to craft a poem in response to an excerpt from Sharon Olds: "I don't know how to live."

Originally titled "How to Live" but I changed it to Beneath the Flowers because I submitted it to lit mag.

So, feel free to read and critique. Enjoy.

 

[Virgilijus]

Some of the imagery didn't do anything for me ('paint an ward winning painting' seems too bland and vague for a poem about directions) while others were just subtle enough to do it ('crunch food softly', although I think it could have been worded a little better).

Also, there was very little flow. I don't know if you did that on purpose to show the spontaneity of the poem or what, but it stymied the words and kind of made me lose interest at a few points.

I did like the small parentheses at the end of each paragraph that served as a kind of warning to the previous advice.

Overall I liked it. Do you know if it made it into the Avatar yet?

 

[McCloud]

Don't think it did, actually. My friend on the staff told me that they junked all of the stuff Parker Lawrence told us to send.

*shrugs*

and yeah, this has no flow at all - not done intentionally, but I was awake at 4 to write this poem by 6.