Analysis of Prospect Street
I purchased a property in Prospect St
Down the bottom end, where never mind Brexit, traffic will still descend to the exit, on the right hand side,
At the bottom of the hill,
In prospect Street.
I live down the lower end,
On the opposite side of the parking parade, on the one way downward drive that is Prospect Street.
I'm a practical person, polite poor, but popular, and pleased I live in Prospect Street,
I'm even happy out the back with pots and cats.
Step out the back door and immediately greet my neighbour,
A prospective person just like me,
Who won't be beat up by the woes, the traffic cones, the paint pots, put out to keep parking slots in Prospect Street.
Parking is not permitted in Prospect Street on bin day,
It has been known that bin men, moan and groan, lifted and thrown, prams, cots, plastic green containers,
All used for preserved parking plots.
Even cars, heaved, humped and dumped far out of sight, so the Dennis dump truck, can drive down the middle, and not on the right hand side, in Prospect Street
Even postgraduate studying PhD's,
Professors, erudite plumbers just like me, have to clear are cars, kids, cats and dogs, on Tuesdays, bin day, in Prospect Street.
They say that once, raving, raging refuse personnel, were heard to shout, oh what the hell?
As they grappled a piano,
The air was blue, language obtuse,
As they slipped and fell,
The old Joanna broke loose,
At the top of the hill on the right hand side, in Prospect Street.
Wing mirrors inwardly folding,
Cats and dogs, stealthily patrolling,
Under parking, mum's maneuvering pushchairs, kids on skateboards,
It's completely barking, mad,
But I love living in Prospect Street.
Paint peels from scratches on the offside of cars, the permanent scars from the irreverent drivers,
The bizarreness of living down Prospect Street.
They don't pay any penalties, they have no soul, ha, that one scraped by, but drove straight into that scaffold pole,
'Fool' comes cry from high up there,
That builder doesn't look best pleased to be fair, as he hangs from the rails by the safe boots on his feet,
Paying the price of working on properties in Prospect Street.
The pretty previous proprietor of my property, my abode, in Prospect St, so I'm told, lies peacefully deceased,
My Prospect Street poem ends on a low key, for without looking left,
She stepped out into the street,
And was run down by a piano!
Scheme | AXXA XA AB CXA XDX A BA EFGEGA HHBXA DA X CAA X XAF |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11001000101 1010111011101101101010111 1010101 0101 1110101 101001101001101110111101 1010010011110001110101 110101011101 11011001000111 001010111 11111101010101111111010101 10110100101111 1111111101100111101010 11101101 1011101111110101111101001101110101 1011001 010101011111111110111110101 11111010010101111101 11100010 01111001 11101 0101011 101101101110101 11010010 1011010 1010101001111 1010101 111100101 11110101110100110010010 011101101 11110100111111111111011101 1111111 110101111111111011011111 100111011000101 0101000100111001010101111110001 11011011011101101 1110101 011110010 |
Closest metre | Iambic octameter |
Characters | 2,400 |
Words | 468 |
Sentences | 12 |
Stanzas | 14 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 2, 2, 3, 3, 1, 2, 6, 5, 2, 1, 3, 1, 3 |
Lines Amount | 38 |
Letters per line (avg) | 49 |
Words per line (avg) | 11 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 134 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 30 |
About this poem
This is a poem about a quirky narrow street on a steep hill with terraced houses either side in the university seaside town of Aberystwyth in Ceredigion on the West Coast of Mid Wales. I wrote it after witnessing cars scraping by scaffolding and other vehicles with wing mirrors missing and also talking to people who live in Prospect Street and some of the strange incidents they had witnessed over the years.
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Written on February 15, 2018
Submitted by markadrianjefferis on August 15, 2022
Modified on April 07, 2023
- 2:23 min read
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"Prospect Street" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/136524/prospect-street>.
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