Death In A Lunch Hour Poem by Clive Culverhouse

Death In A Lunch Hour

Rating: 5.0


he entered the room as if rice was about to boil over,
seeing faces of those he didn't recognise look as though
they were reading the last line of a book they never read
before, staggered, asymmetrically pensive in times during
coffee servings and bites from donuts, but, given that it
was only midday, the flavour of the waitresses grumbled
in overlapping office lunch hours. little did our hero, who
entered with arched cat-back whiteness, know, his un-
expected audience, delivering blank verse in motor-
cycle and side-car loads, were systematically only there
to make up the numbers, merely propping up the inward
burst of off the street heart attacks, the last hope of ever
thwarted reasoning and too the waitresses were cardboard.

Saturday, June 13, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: death
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
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Death In A Lunch Hour
poetry by Clive Culverhouse

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Soran M. H 27 June 2020

burst of off the street heart attacks, the last hope of ever thwarted reasoning and too the waitresses were cardboard

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Clive Culverhouse 01 July 2020

Death In A Lunch Hour thanks for your comment.,

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Soran M. H 27 June 2020

This poem is amazing in statement, rhetoric and metaphors, with a strong language and a solid poetic structure. It resembles a rare movie clip, or animated draw of a brilliant painter, and so you make from everyday things precious, invaluable pieces with deep philosophy meanings. 10/10 and onto my fav list, well done

5 0 Reply
Clive Culverhouse 01 July 2020

Thanks for your constructive and kind words, what great feedback, thanks for taking time out of your day to write this amazing comment, .,

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Clive Culverhouse 26 June 2020

this is one of my poems that is also on Write Out Loud here's a comment from that poetry website " Enthralling, stylish and quite spellbinding. Great writing, loved it."

1 0 Reply
Varsha M 13 June 2020

Explicit imagery, a person about to boil like rice.... beautiful metaphoric Then waitress grumbled... Cat-back whiteness of fear I think. Street heart attack..last hope of ever .. wonderful write.

0 0 Reply
Clive Culverhouse 13 June 2020

thanks for commenting on my poem Death In A Lunch Hour yes last hope ever, and sometimes it is perhaps just meant to be when the waitresses are just cardboard.., , , ,

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