`Immigration Night` - a spontane - would you mind to c/c, upgrade, or to supplement?

Question

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`Immigration Night`1stDraft.LapizD.Copyright.16-9-13.,U.K.
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Into the dark avenue I step
Expecting groups carousing
My hand in pocket, on my phone
Prepared to avoid drunken bruising

All is silent, no squeals or slewed youth
Nor cars career past, I slow my pace
Eventually arrive in the all-night store
He smiles, looks away - a good and sad face.

I know that look for I have felt it myself
There`s nothing to do but to try light up his night
I ask for dark chocolate from there - on that shelf
Unmentioned by either - we each recognise `plight`.

A few words - that`s progress, he reaches for ciggies
The brand I still smoke, he remembers, I nod
Wishing him `Have good night` I retire
Back into the garishness, homeward I plod.

Some things are best unsaid (Was told recently)
He and I have communed in instants for years
I sit on my doorstep in the quiet sullen mystery
Of this night, thinking of things too serious for tears.

My home greets me warmly, that`s luck of a kind
Then think to put him on my Christmas - card list.
Survival`s not quite enough if one`s lot`s become tough
Because for - 0h - too many - has Tragedy kissed.

The avenue`s picturesque, an urban idyll
I imagine him catching the bus - somewhere dim
I am yes, one of the folks who live on the hill
Yet somehow, not so different in my heart from him.

The night reveals much, like a model asleep
The clad jaws of day-poses slip off. with the sun
I rest, and am too tired for words profound to keep
Some gaiety here - until day is begun.

What then of day, in its` sunlit array
When we put best feet forward, and smile politesse
A grey face in night working hard, to display
The rigour of some compromise - is easy to guess.

Wife and children to feed, but no English to match
The refined intelligence clear in his demeanour
I, the night - owl, see oh much too much
Of a society I so much wish could be cleaner.

So now I move minute by minute to dawn
I`ll go make some coffee - I`m safe, fed and home
Still my heart goes out to such exiles forlorn
At `The English Dream`s` promise - leading their hopes astray.

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Answer 1

Very effective poem.



Though my heart goes out to such exiles forlorn,

Their "English Dreams' " hopes faded and torn.

Answer 2

Lapiz, the night owl. This man touched your soul as I am sure many people do, because you are a person who feels deeply. You have a generous spirit and I recognized that when I met you. The English dream, isn't what it's cracked up to be. The streets here are hardly paved with gold with so many families struggling to get by and food banks increasing by the day. What hope is there for an immigrant and his family who don't speak the language? Less than for those that do. A tale of our times and not one that is likely to go away. It's not only the immigrant I feel sorry for, it's all the others who try to get by on low pay or handouts when there are no jobs. The divide between the haves and the have nots increases all the time.



Still my heart goes out to such exhiles forlorn

The English Dream hardly heralds a new dawn



a suggestion for your ending, which rhymes



Thank you for this post

Answer 3

I very much like this poem, Lapiz, in which your empathy for others shines through. This line - "The night reveals much, like a model asleep" is terrific. Here are a couple of suggestions for the last stanza, as requested, but I'm not crazy about either:



So now I move minute by minute toward dawn

I'll go make some coffee, I'm home, fed and safe;

my heart still goes out to such exiles forlorn

at the English Dream's promise that treats them like waifs



So now I move minute by minute toward dawn

I'll go make some coffee, I'm safe, fed and home

My heart still goes out to such exiles forlorn

at the English Dream's promise - no more need they roam.

Answer 4

Not nearly as good as your last offering. I pick part of one line to boldly change on my whim...

Back into the garishness, homeward I plod.



"Back into the garish night I plod, homeward bound."



Also your verse:-A few words - that`s progress, he reaches for ciggies

The brand I still smoke, he remembers, I nod

Wishing him `Have good night` I retire

Back into the garishness, homeward I plod.



Does using the word 'ciggies' turn the poem to mere doggerel? So may I suggest the full word 'cigarettes?'



















Just as an aside, probably the most impressive poem I have ever read is: "The Hound of Heaven"

By Francis Thompson (1859–1907) I thought you might like to take a look at it.

Answer 5

Your opening is great. It pulled me in instantaneously with a hint of fear overpowered by my curiosity. The last line of the sixth stanza is remarkable. I love it! The beginning of stanza 8: I mean it when I say tearfully Shakespeare-like. Last stanza change: forlorn --> Godforsaken AND astray --->Mistaken AND leading ---> Revealing/as.



Last two lines:



"Still my heart goes out to such exiles Godforsaken

At 'The English Dream's promise - revealing their hopes as mistaken."

Answer 6

I missed this as posted when

but by an abstraction, what I lost was found

so I consider you coming around again.



I enjoyed this. The imagery was tangible. If there was any verbiage it added, did not detract from the reading.

Answer 7

Lovely thoughts Lapiz...of acceptance and tolerance and respect.

You're a caring soul.

Answer 8

' Interesting ' The world in its strangeness



I tried to reply to your message ... But got a ' ''Opus !

Answer 9

I read it, I felt it, I lived it, I need it as my own.

You Are A True Poet.