Time Spent in St. Petersberg, Russia

Time Spent in St. Petersburg, Russia

Clouds like sweet memories

fell on me this St. Petersburg morning,

mixing with my cigarette smoke

in some brick road beige back alley,

surrounded by pastel blue buildings,

a Chinese flop that smelled of lemons and meat,

and a rat a*s hostel with peaceful bunks

and dreary-eyed Russians.

I took steps and steps and more silent steps

in this silent city

down the crooked, rainbow streets

that bled rain and remorse,

like there was some secret guilt

that was shaded to all 

but the people who called these roads their home.

The sun burst with rays of moonlight

painting the city with radiant depravity

and pale mystery.

Floating down the concrete canals,

the haunting, crystal wind

swept me into the past

wrought with burden, blood,

and honest-to-God, beautiful melancholy.

A harmony of joy and wrecked blues

settled like dew

on the faces of buildings and of people.

I've never felt more in tune with my heart

than in St. Petersburg,

where the city's river flows with true romance

and floods often,

where the night sky replaces stars

with burning tears

that cover up the truest darkness I've seen.

I ought to have been born here

and I'm hellbent on making this city my grave,

where I'll be six feet under,

having lived a life miles away from the struggles of normalcy.

I puff on my last cigarette,

watching my eternal shadow

etch our name into a tree that stands alone.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the old cities. I was lucky and I was station in Europe. I roamed the old cities. They had a energy of life. Could feel the old and new spirits in the wind. I like the description in your words. Took me with you to a good and beautiful place. A excellent poem.
Coyote

[SM Davis]

your imagery here is impeccable and your ending was sublime. Very nicely written.

[cartera]

So, you're a travel writer already? For some reason this poem took me back to the cigarette ad: You're Never Alone with a Strand. Same atmosphere. Curious thing in this kind of poem, is, for me, that although that which is described, excellent though the description is, is interesting, it is never as interesting as the narrator, whom one wants to know, or, even better, be: solitary, a mysterious self-sufficient person with, one knows for sure, an interesting history; now being reflective in a far-flung mysterious gold-plated rainbow-alleyed city.
Now, where did I put my white Mackintosh and my f**s?
Do Dooo Dah Do Dooh Dah
ATB
Alexx

[Tom Benson]

Filled with great imagery and laced with emotion. It reads well, but probably because after only three years or so writing poetry I tend to lean towards rhyming verse. That said, this does have a natural flow with it. Good work.

[I Cast a Shadow]

Since I've joined writerscafe (only a couple days ago) I have not yet found a poem that I liked. This is the first that I truly loved. Thank you. I challenge myself to critique good poetry so I will try. I might challenge you to put structure on this rather than let it flow free-form. If you decided not to take that challenge than I suggest you reenforce this free-form poem with an answer somewhere of why it has to be freeform. I don't think that would be hard at all.

I have incredible interest in Russian literature and history. This poem drove home hard affecting several senses. I suppose I would further challenge you to incorporate all the five senses. That is a fun exercise.

Awesome poem!

Cheers!

[Rene Velez]

I'm a man of imagery and atmosphere, and this indeed is what you deliver, striking piece, stunning in detail, really nice work...

[bob, small b. aka invs]

i've never been to st petersburg till just now, reading this. this is a wonderfully descriptive piece of writing that makes me long to go for a walk in my own favorite city.

[dieuxsansculte]

It's fascinating how we can become so attached to a certain city or a particular place. It's like our souls become intermingled with the physical location and the connection becomes a metaphysical attraction. I believe it has something to do with the memories we acquire there, but it also, I think, has to do with the qualities of that particular place, the streets and people of a city, or, as in my case, the landscape of my rural surroundings.

This was a really heartfelt write. I could feel your love for St. Petersberg shining through every sentence and every word you wrote.

I especially liked these lines:

"where the night sky replaces stars
with burning tears
that cover up the truest darkness I've seen."

which I think most accurately reflects the underlying beauty you've found there.

Kudos for showing us the wonder of the "rainbow streets" of a grand old city.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

Beautiful! Those last lines......were haunting and the type of lines that stay with you hours after being read.

[Lily Mae]

This is so descriptive that I felt as though I were walking within a painting... Excellent write.xx

[emmajoy]

An enormous city full of past ancient and modern and where you want to die!? How extraordinary, it's as if the place has taken you captive! And, yes, yes, you've described it so well - i remember dreary eyed Russians - as for the rest - and how much rest there is, your words have made the grey buildings almost colourful and murky river almost clean. Your descriptions, metaphors and more deserve far more appreciation