The streets have become flooded
with our childhood dreams.
Puddles blend into
astronauts, paving slabs, firemen.
Artists wash the pavements
in a sea of colour.
Our adult selves, thin as spindles,
watch from behind netted curtains,
holding each other as the houses
slowly move towards an ocean
of someone else’s making, bodies
quivering like fish desperate for water.
Christian Ward is a 28-year-old London-based poet who recently graduated from Roehampton University with a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing. His poetry currently appears in Sage Trail, Sein Und Werden, Origami Condom and Thieves Jargon. He has work forthcoming in Bravado.
Posted on February 22, 2009 in Poems
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19 Responses to “FLOODS • by Christian Ward”
Comments
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February 22nd, 2009 at 2:17 am
Ooh, love this – a very subtle horror poem. Reminded me of The Birds – not sure why.
Axxx
February 22nd, 2009 at 2:48 am
Very nice images.
“The streets have become flooded
with our childhood dreams” – I liked this very much, but thought it might read better without the “our”.
February 22nd, 2009 at 6:52 am
I like the way you put this together. “Flooded streets” and “houses…move toward the ocean” “bodies quivering like fish desperate for water” and “netted curtains”. Well done, I think.
February 22nd, 2009 at 6:53 am
I really love that we can view the puddled water “from behind netted curtains,” but our adult realities keep us from returning to the shapes we thirsted for as children. Very good.
February 22nd, 2009 at 7:16 am
This strong poem speaks of a kind of experience I have never known, yet the poem is perfectly convincing of its reality. I would like to know more about this other kind of experience and read/hear more of this poem/kind of poem. The most distant and strange of worlds may be right around the block.
February 22nd, 2009 at 9:59 am
Very well told.
–dj
February 22nd, 2009 at 11:14 am
nice images. i like the idea of the adults watching from behind the curtains.
February 22nd, 2009 at 5:14 pm
Wonderful images in a very strong poem. The undercurrent (no pun intended) of antipathy rang true to what I’ve seen in the streets around my own neighborhood – the settling of lives when they’ve desired so much more. 5* from me.
February 22nd, 2009 at 5:18 pm
I liked this. Some really great images.
February 22nd, 2009 at 5:26 pm
Very strong – the idea that adults ‘thin as spindles’ can only view childhood dreams from behind netted curtains reverberates with poignancy…
February 22nd, 2009 at 11:09 pm
Powerful voice. I could feel the experience. Liked this poem a lot!
February 26th, 2009 at 6:43 am
Thanks for all your comments and kind words. I appreciate it.
Christian
February 26th, 2009 at 9:45 am
I love the surreal qualities of this poem and how it draws in the reader from the first few lines. I’ve been a fan of Christian’s poetry for several years and continue to enjoy his new creations.
February 27th, 2009 at 3:20 am
Hey Sandy!
Glad to see you around. Thanks for the lovely comment.
Christian
February 27th, 2009 at 5:50 am
I was enjoying reading idly through the poems on site… as one does. Then I found this one, and I stopped. re-read and re-read.
I enjoy the opaqueness. The texture. The intrigue, and the sense of sadness running under the surface. I also enjoy seeing new things every time I come back to it.
I haven’t met your work before, Christian…will make a point of finding more. Thanks.
February 28th, 2009 at 4:11 am
Thanks for the comment, Vanessa.
I’ll be sure to do the same.
Have a good weekend,
Chris
March 16th, 2009 at 5:45 am
[...] with a haiku by Christian Ward. Christian is a London-based writer whose work has appeared in the Everyday Poets, The Kenyon Review, Word Riot, and Diagram among many others. We caught up with Christian at his [...]
March 24th, 2009 at 8:35 am
Absolutely loved the ending. Such a strong finish!
March 26th, 2009 at 5:15 am
Thanks, Will. I’m glad you liked it.