Late night poem Forum

[johndhi]

Wrote this the other night -- thought some of you might be able to relate.

***

I remember these nights. Back seat of a taxi heading down Howard street. It's late. People are doing people things... Drunk, crazy, partying, exiting the hotel on 3rd street. I am in the taxi. Baseball fans in the crosswalk - there must have been a game.

I exchange pleasantries with the cabbie because I think it makes me strong to not complain about my situation. My job kept me late again. I haven't eaten since lunch and my head hurts. I'm passing the courthouse again - I always remember passing the courthouse these late nights. It's because there are people like me in there, working late. Maybe I could have been one of them?

But I know I don't like it enough to try to be one of them anymore. I want to be a person on the street, or a cab driver, or anyone else who seems to have some sense of what they're doing and why.

Tonight, my cabbie is listening to classical music. He probably listens to classical musical all the time. He called me "bro" about five times, because he probably calls everyone "bro." I think he's Asian. He's old. Anyhow, he seems to know who he is. He wears those glasses and drives this cab.

Not I. I work late and hard and I don't even know why. I guess it's for the money. I don't want a lot of money, so much as I'm afraid of not having money. I thought about my brothers bank account the other night. He doesn't work, and I dreamt he had only 1000 dollars to his name. That would be tough at our age.

I'm on the freeway now. It's clear out and I can see the old orange bulbs and the new white bulbs across the residential part of the city.

Remember when I was in college? Remember when I was in high school? Remember when I lived with my parents? Remember when I learned for the first time what a cab is and how to use it?

It's like a different world now. Now I'm this guy. I know things. I'm expected to.

The cab won't give me a receipt. Grr.

[bearsfan23]

Good thing you're a lawyer and not a poet

[KissMyAxe]

[KunAgnis]

Since others aren't being helpful, let me see if I can. I think the biggest problem for this piece is that it simply comes across as prose. Not that you need a rhyme scheme (I use free verse constantly) but there doesn't seem to be careful decision making in terms of the diction, the syllable count, or why the lines are separated into stanzas. You could explain to usyour thought process - perhaps that would help.

[rdawkins28]

Early Morning Brief

Less than an hour to go before midnight,
A stranger flagged me down for a lil ride.
Though finely dressed, his shoulders slumped,
Like a man who has just been dumped.
His briefcase must have felt like an anchor,
Accountant, lawyer, or perhaps banker.

Across the street merriments abounded,
Chatter and laughter in the night resounded.
I wondered if I could meet my quota,
Or will I send home but an iota.

“Get in bro,” I said to the weary man,
Hoping that made me sound less Laotian.
He let out a big sigh as his phone rang,
Then closed his eyes and just let it hang.

Minutes later, his phone again sounded off,
He answered with a resigned scoff.
“Yes the brief is done, I’m heading home.”
Looking out where the buffalo used to roam.

Many nights I would like to be my own fare,
Listening to the radio while riding to nowhere.
Twas when the rides end that was terrifying,
As if life was making sure I was dying.
Buried with letters from home wanting dough,
Or be back at the boarding house on skid row.

We sat in silence for the next mile or two,
Passed by Yankee stadium, much was ado.
Extra innings tonight for everyone it seems,
My fare and I continued our way, lost in dreams.

[mrs.miawallace]

Early Morning Brief

Less than an hour to go before midnight,
A stranger flagged me down for a lil ride.
Though finely dressed, his shoulders slumped,
Like a man who has just been dumped.
His briefcase must have felt like an anchor,
Accountant, lawyer, or perhaps banker.

Across the street merriments abounded,
Chatter and laughter in the night resounded.
I wondered if I could meet my quota,
Or will I send home but an iota.

“Get in bro,” I said to the weary man,
Hoping that made me sound less Laotian.
He let out a big sigh as his phone rang,
Then closed his eyes and just let it hang.

Minutes later, his phone again sounded off,
He answered with a resigned scoff.
“Yes the brief is done, I’m heading home.”
Looking out where the buffalo used to roam.

Many nights I would like to be my own fare,
Listening to the radio while riding to nowhere.
Twas when the rides end that was terrifying,
As if life was making sure I was dying.
Buried with letters from home wanting dough,
Or be back at the boarding house on skid row.

We sat in silence for the next mile or two,
Passed by Yankee stadium, much was ado.
Extra innings tonight for everyone it seems,
My fare and I continued our way, lost in dreams.

180

[sweets91]

Early Morning Brief

Less than an hour to go before midnight,
A stranger flagged me down for a lil ride.
Though finely dressed, his shoulders slumped,
Like a man who has just been dumped.
His briefcase must have felt like an anchor,
Accountant, lawyer, or perhaps banker.

Across the street merriments abounded,
Chatter and laughter in the night resounded.
I wondered if I could meet my quota,
Or will I send home but an iota.

“Get in bro,” I said to the weary man,
Hoping that made me sound less Laotian.
He let out a big sigh as his phone rang,
Then closed his eyes and just let it hang.

Minutes later, his phone again sounded off,
He answered with a resigned scoff.
“Yes the brief is done, I’m heading home.”
Looking out where the buffalo used to roam.

Many nights I would like to be my own fare,
Listening to the radio while riding to nowhere.
Twas when the rides end that was terrifying,
As if life was making sure I was dying.
Buried with letters from home wanting dough,
Or be back at the boarding house on skid row.

We sat in silence for the next mile or two,
Passed by Yankee stadium, much was ado.
Extra innings tonight for everyone it seems,
My fare and I continued our way, lost in dreams.

fire

[mathis1490]

Early Morning Brief

Less than an hour to go before midnight,
A stranger flagged me down for a lil ride.
Though finely dressed, his shoulders slumped,
Like a man who has just been dumped.
His briefcase must have felt like an anchor,
Accountant, lawyer, or perhaps banker.

Across the street merriments abounded,
Chatter and laughter in the night resounded.
I wondered if I could meet my quota,
Or will I send home but an iota.

“Get in bro,” I said to the weary man,
Hoping that made me sound less Laotian.
He let out a big sigh as his phone rang,
Then closed his eyes and just let it hang.

Minutes later, his phone again sounded off,
He answered with a resigned scoff.
“Yes the brief is done, I’m heading home.”
Looking out where the buffalo used to roam.

Many nights I would like to be my own fare,
Listening to the radio while riding to nowhere.
Twas when the rides end that was terrifying,
As if life was making sure I was dying.
Buried with letters from home wanting dough,
Or be back at the boarding house on skid row.

We sat in silence for the next mile or two,
Passed by Yankee stadium, much was ado.
Extra innings tonight for everyone it seems,
My fare and I continued our way, lost in dreams.

Master Stroke

[zhenders]

Whoa this thread is creeping me out

[FSK]

My take on poetry

Why
Oh Why
Would opposing counsel
so
dare
Oppose my request for a fucking 3 day extension to file this brief
Why

[Anonymous User]

Since others aren't being helpful, let me see if I can. I think the biggest problem for this piece is that it simply comes across as prose. Not that you need a rhyme scheme (I use free verse constantly) but there doesn't seem to be careful decision making in terms of the diction, the syllable count, or why the lines are separated into stanzas. You could explain to us your thought process - perhaps that would help.

I also write poetry and this is exactly what came to mind for me too.

However, I like it because it does seem to get your point across and express your feelings.

Do you work in big law?

[EncyclopediaOrange]

Wrote this the other night -- thought some of you might be able to relate.

Enjoyed this.

Early Morning Brief

Thought this was dope.

[zhenders]

Christ, it's like Vogons anonymous itt.

[Leprechaun]

There once was a man in 4th tier,
Subjecting him to ridicule and jeer,
But he never lost hope,
Scored an offer that's dope,
And soon has a brand new career

[mvp99]

Since others aren't being helpful, let me see if I can. I think the biggest problem for this piece is that it simply comes across as prose. Not that you need a rhyme scheme (I use free verse constantly) but there doesn't seem to be careful decision making in terms of the diction, the syllable count, or why the lines are separated into stanzas. You could explain to us your thought process - perhaps that would help.

I also write poetry and this is exactly what came to mind for me too.

However, I like it because it does seem to get your point across and express your feelings.

Do you work in big law?

Im not into poetry and my thoughts were similar... also thought that there are people out there making this "type" of poetry without putting any effort into it beyond writng their thoughts in prose and then calling themselves poets (not that this is OP and as long as op is sincere im ok with the product, hes no claiming he's entitled to some space in a museum or a book).. but I despise the people that pretend to put into art the same effort as others.. their "art" is shit and an insult to true artists.. this goes too to those "modern" artists out painting a red dot in a white canvas and saying it represents the teagedy of WWII.

[johndhi]

glad some of you enjoyed it. at least to me, it does a good job of expressing the somewhat complicated feelings I was experiencing.

[heythatslife]

There once was a man in big law,
Who dreamed of release from its claw;
With a kid on the way,
And school loans to pay,
T'was not in his choice to withdraw.

[glitched]

My take on poetry

Why
Oh Why
Would opposing counsel
so
dare
Oppose my request for a fucking 3 day extension to file this brief
Why

Quoth the Counsel "Nevermore."

[georgej]

The ineluctable modality of the BILLABLE tho right?