|Reviewed by C. McGovern-Bowen
|ah yes, savor those memories-- and illusions!
love the mood of this engaging write, john.
|Reviewed by Jeanette Cooper
|A beautiful poem and I especially liked the second stanza: "sweeping me through time
but so unfamiliar
from concrete dreams"
Where did all those concrete dreams go to? --they took paths far removed from the dreams themselves.
|Reviewed by Debby Rosenberg
|luv the word usage here...its poetic art...my fav stanza is about the lighter...|
|Reviewed by Cryssa C
|There seems to be something almost plaintive about this write... I found myself feeling nostalgic, and a little sad...
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|Ah yes, the days of yore... ...well done, John. This is a stirring write. Love and peace to you,
|Reviewed by Selene Skye
|Like Alice through the looking glass, i fell through the mirror into the world of these lines and was captivated by each word's exqusisite placement to evoke such tremulous and powerful emotions~thought.
|Reviewed by Debra Kraft
|remembered yet disposable. Like all things, this too shall pass--yet in that passing, a memory penned with perfection; enough to draw the trace of a smile to smooth out the rough edges of today.|
|Reviewed by Joyce Bowling
|A wonderful reflective write that reminds us how the past, trinkets, and obects affect our our lives today, but also how quickly time passes and how things continually change...but in our memories and our heart many times they remain the same! Enjoyed this very much, well written my friend!
|Reviewed by Randall Barfield
|Love where it begins 'pedaled thoughts...' and the 'blue memories'. Great job. 'free' is an interesting word near the end.|
|Reviewed by David Thompson
|I once was filled to the brim with vim and vigor like the Ronsons and Zippos of an age gone by, with visions of grandeur in the eyes of others. But now I've reached the age of being out of date and non-refundable. Perhaps I even held a Pall Mall between the first two fingers of my left hand and dreamed of walking a street in London bearing the same name. I can't remember now...it's been so long ago. Memories fade in due time, you know. And, as I rattle my brain forward into the world of reality, I realize that your words alone have caused me to travel, for a time, into my dreamworld of yesteryear. For that I am most grateful. It is but a few who can take me there.
David Lee Thompson
|Reviewed by OnepoetGem *the Poetic Rapper
|super poeming John, love the way you metaophored and laid this out|
|Reviewed by Myrna Badgerow
|I do apologize, my friend, because I thought I had left my thoughts on this beauty but alas...(methinks the brain cells are fading more quickly that first thought..lol) As I began to read the first stanza hit me like that wall we fear yes find comfort in... and then your analogies.. your metaphors.. just poured forth...the Ronson lighter, the hat box.. but it was the last stanza that stopped me cold... 'memories of something prohibited and how it felt so free'... Didn't it though? Excellent my friend.. Myrna|
|Reviewed by Elizabeth Price
|Great visit into the past. Thoroughly enjoyed. Liz|
|Reviewed by Art Sun
|Really nice work John...your give the picture od time passed and its revealing memories of which we have embedded within us...though some of the thoughts that we raise are of our own they are also of many who walked the same paths...
I like this one John it has a variety of character and emotion built within its frame of expression...
|Reviewed by William Bonilla
|I Always enjoy your writings and this one is but another
brilliantly composed contribution to the Den
All I can remember about Pall Mall is that it was my Father's
Choice of vise ...And the Bell-hop walking through a Hotel Lobby
Yelling "Call For Phillip Morris"
Peace be with you
|Reviewed by Michael Guy
|pall-mall we go through time with special dreams and feelings we carry from birth, perhaps to the "grave" - yet a certain person like me (and I think maybe you) has a nostalgic slant on life that in its best moments becomes "Timeless". I would say fads are NOT your thing, yet what is missed is the "quality" of those things past - and in either case, as long as the "pall-malls" aren't the ones I smoked in my twenties, it's OK....Later, michael|
|Reviewed by Douglas Bentley
|And with a puff. . . .
Smoke rings . . . .
Fly by. . . .
Take another drag. . . .
Menthol - flat
Maybe drivin' an ol' H Rag?
I tip my hat.
|Reviewed by ~ Holly Harbridge (Reader)
|Glad I dropped by tonight to see this gem...time to take a bow my friend, love Holly|
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
|I love how you took us back to those days of prohibition,John, your imagery and way with words make this a classic! Superb work! ET|
|Reviewed by Barbara Smith
|John, true words painting a scene of days long gone but memories "still" as strong and alive as ever. This reader walked down those alley's with you and ducked as the shots rang out. Ah, you've captured such magnificent images bringing them to life in this wonderful poem. An excellent write.|
|Reviewed by Kate Burnside
|memories of something
and how it felt
... and "free" is the flow of thoughts centring on some halcyon bygone days that are in each case as a cameo snapshot, taken through an Alice door into the fragrant and very visual garden of your memory. Indeed, the black and white of your words on the page take on the vibrant colour of stark, living images and the central stanza with the Ronson is stunning. Yes, John; as ever you ignite the flint of our imagination with the bright spark, ever renewable, of your liquid idea and expression. TY - another beauty! :)) Kate xx
|Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan
|Reviewed by Gerard Gauthier
|The scenery so stationary yet it passes before me living in its own time and me in mine...Great read John...the words compliment you.|
|Reviewed by MaryGrace Patterson
|Your words have captured "Time" ,the ins and outs of life. Pictures are painted of places, memories, feelings. Well Done, John.|
|Reviewed by Bernice Lakota
|Very nolstagic John, you got me thinking-in back and white--'bout back in the day, when all was carefree... I love this, simply exquisite!
|Reviewed by Christine Alwin
|An amazing write,, and I enjoyed all three times that I read it,, so much said from within, I felt like I was walking along side you observing your steps.... Excellent!
|Reviewed by Georg Mateos
|You took me around the cobblestone streets of old Brookling, dark, with a few street lights that where not smashed by hooligans.
That Borsalino hat, against so many fedoras, gave the walker an air of authority that prevent the mugger to try; the shining spit and polished shoes, the head hig, walking, there was a poet through the night like an untouchable ghost.
|Reviewed by Rose Rideout
|I love the way you words things as we can many things different ways, they say it is not whats said but how it is said, great writing John. Thank you for sharing.
Newfie Hugs, Rose
|Reviewed by Dawn Anderson
|Nostalgic and a bit sad...and yes, memories...but I believe they are what we choose to make them...how we want to remember them. Excellent writing, John. You always make the reader feel as though they have entered into a piece of the world that you have written about.|
|Reviewed by Shedding Light
|You have way with words ... excellent poetry !!
Harold M. Nash
|Reviewed by Staci Gansky-Wagner
|Nostalgic write, and a wonderful way with words. We are always making memories though, and even in the present right now, will be in the past tomorrow. Sad reflections of yesterday only steals from our happiness today. :)|
|Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis
|Drawn completely into your world, taken along to walk with you side-by-side during a fleeting moment in the time of your life, listening to your thoughts (anything but flat) resonate between past and present ~ I can taste the bittersweet of your memories. Wonderful.|
|Reviewed by Gwendolyn Thomas Gath
Wonderful play upon words as you built to the climatic effect of freedom, guess those were the days as they say. Thank you for sharing the lustre of your pen through the imageries and colorfulness; enjoy your day.
Blessings as always,
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Images through smoke ... evokes powerful memories from the past - Pall Mall - Ronson lighters - well done.
(((HGUS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Jon Willey
|Memories, segments of our past. Irretrievably lost in the misty shadows of myriad yesterdays. Excellent poetry. Thanks for sharing. JMW|
|Reviewed by Ron (sketchman) Axelson
I've lost all my Zipo lighters...
|Reviewed by Jackie (Micke) Jinks
|John...when I saw pall mall, my first thought was of ghosts of the past...the cigarette Pall Mall. Add words as Ronson lighter, flint, refillable, the torch, liberty (as in concert "torch"), I was "drawn" more into this thought. Am I far off the mark? What ever, enjoyed this intriguing remembrance, butt with conformance freedom.
Ya got me on this one :o)
Blessings Friend ~~ Micke
|Reviewed by Katie Gabrielle
|Reviewed by Charlie
|Very fluid write-- good stuff. --Charlie|
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
|Time is a killer to the soul if one but allows it . . . Even with the best defense we are prone to lament quite glibly (I go there often) about the times then and the spunk we had even as we fell flat on our faces . . . Now we have "those" later years . . . Feel uninspired and wonder if we really have anything left to say . . . Life is a bitch, a beautiful slutty bitch that we hold onto even when sometimes we should let go . . . Good, John|
|Reviewed by Bonnie May
|Absolutely beautiful and nostalgic write. Sounds like you were traveling down memory lane a bit my friend. Wonderful write, Love, Bonnie|