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Peter in Virginia

I felt something sweet for you
Memories of wispy western country blues
A rumpy red truck in vast Virginia
I couldn’t see the gray snow within the
Words you mentioned
Another moldy midday -
Misses your noonday monday
I wonder if I’m to be forgotten
A bouquet of weeds in the backseat
Of your rumpy red pickup fleet
I suppose I once felt something sweeter
I heard the radio jump with a southern tang
Now my heart taste like lemon grind
I see the widow waiting in the rearview mirror
I see the man I always try to remember
Words only fall flat in West Virginia
God know that I can’t sing
The country blues forever

Style / type: 
Free verse
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I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
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How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
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The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:

The poem "Peter in Virginia" explores themes of nostalgia, longing, and the passage of time. The use of imagery, such as the "rumpy red truck" and the "bouquet of weeds," adds depth to the poem and helps to create a vivid sense of place. The repetition of certain phrases, like "something sweet" and "country blues," contributes to the overall tone and mood of the poem.

One suggestion for improvement is to consider the structure and flow of the poem. While the poem contains interesting ideas and imagery, the organization of the lines and stanzas could be refined to enhance the overall coherence and impact. For example, you may want to experiment with breaking the poem into stanzas to create a more visually appealing and rhythmically engaging structure.

Additionally, some lines could benefit from further development or clarification. For instance, the line "Words only fall flat in West Virginia" could be expanded upon to provide more context or explanation. This would help to strengthen the

Please send feedback about Neo (our computer generated critique system) to https://www.neopoet.com/contact

I thought; "Rumpy"? WTH is rumpy, but after I got past the initial wonderment...
it didn't matter. I was caught up in the memory of sitting in the truck listening to the country station
and thinking about what did I mean to you? The relationship already feels like an old boot, soft and comfortable
yet the sole is getting thin. I feel like climbing through the rear window to escape the emotion of a sour heart.
Country roads in West Virginia, can't take me home and I'm through singing. I felt this keenly and the piece spoke volumes to me.

Excellent stuff! ~ Geezer.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Hello, KB,
"I wonder if I'm to be forgotten,
a bouquet of weeds in the backseat
of your rumpy red pickup fleet."

Pure poetry, and definitely pure country blues. This poem carries the reader along the road, peering out the rearview mirror, but moving forward, too. (So...we are traveling from vast Virginia to West Virginia, correct?) Very nice.
L

The image of sitting in the back of a pick up truck...listening to music with someone you love, even if you didn't recognize it as love back then. Just enjoying someone's company and finding joy in the music. What a great memory!

~RoseBlack~

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