Poetry / becoming something beautiful
i always wanted it to be that way,
with you sleeping heavily next to me
as i played lazy riffs on our secondhand guitar,
my feet perched up high on the railing
of the rickety porch below us.
had i known that within seconds that world would be pulled
violently from me,
i might have have sang a little clearer,
or cooked something better for dinner.
i dont want to spend the rest of my life
aiming for an outcome that will never exist
but when i think of you in that cold month of january,
becoming something beautiful
i never thought possible,
i cant help but feel a twinge of martyrdom.
is love pure when you would die for it?
or does that in itself make it tainted,
bound with invisible cords of irony.
i am drawn to the very demons which are trying to destroy me.
have destroyed me.
you.
us.
*
Mary whispers to me silently tonight,
as I sit with resigned trepidation at his doorstep.
He won’t let me in,
(not now, not ever)
but something inside me screams
that if I just persist for one more day,
possibly….
The way his breath hangs heavy in the midnight chill,
is beautiful.
I watch him make his way down the stairs to the door
and I shudder when he walks straight through me.
I look down at my translucent fingers reaching out for him,
and i tell myself that if I was capable of crying,
this moment would be perfect for it.
He is like blowing bubbles.
You can give them life from inside you,
but just as quickly they begin to float away,
bursting at the slightest gesture of tangibility
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I feel the connection between the two poems, however in the first I found it as if I was reading from a guys point of view and in the second from a womans point of view.
I will admit I preferred the second because it was more fluid and more understandable whereas the first didn’t flow as well.
I think it would be nice to be a little clearer of the meaning of the poem. I can assume and I can create a picture which is very good. I feel talent comes from those who are able to create a picture with words…but I think the picture would be clearer if their was just a little more detail as to what was going on.
My thoughts were that a loved one has died and is now there in spirit.
~Gracie.M
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(lets out a deep breath).I pretty much held my breath this whole poem. This poem is so slow, clear and beautiful. You explain the siplicity of every moment in such a beautiful phrase. Even lines such as “Mary whispers to me silently tonight” have been given a unique wording which most wouldn’t spend the craft or skill to do. I like the word play on “chords” in the first stanza.
I also love this line: “is love pure when you would die for it?” It is interjected nicely among the rest of this piece. I love when questions like this are asked in poetry because it gives a sense of action. Like you are writing this poetry but at the same time experiencing it and asking questions and a lot of times they find their way into your work. I adore this because I rarely have only one thought pattern going at a time.
Here is what I would edit:
Line one “i always wanted it to be that way” I think I’d like to see “that” replaced with “this”. Because the latter hints at something more to come, as they way you have it would fit better if there was something beforehand to speak of.
Another thing that bothered me was your usage of “I” un-capitalized. I have no problems with poetry written that way, I just think it should be consistant throughout (in some lines you have i and in others I) :)
This is also a beautiful line: “had i known that within seconds that world would be pulled/violently from me/i might have have sang a little clearer”.
But “or cooked something better for dinner” kind of throws me and I think you’d be better off without it.
The image i get is of you dying and the moments of “and I shudder when he walks straight through me/I look down at my translucent fingers reaching out for him” are your spirit trying to keep a connection. But I think this could also be a metaphor. I was just thinking what an eery impact that line would have if it was him that shuddered. so it would read:
“and he shudder when he walked straight through me.
I look down at my translucent fingers reaching out for him”
That’s a really powerful image as if through it all you are still bound somehow.
The next line is another example of how I love your phrasing. Most others would have left it as a cliche’d statement but you turned it into poetry:
“and i tell myself that if I was capable of crying,
this moment would be perfect for it.”
The last stanza is interesting, but somehow seems to be a little detached. I like the description of the bubbles blowing, but don’t like the line “he is like blowing bubbles”. I would like to see this rephrased.
Don’t take my suggestions to heart too much though. You obviously know where this poem started and where it is going, so make sure you stay true to this with my, and anyone else’s suggestions.
A wonderful read.
what’s funny is that half of the works posted on this website are about love but let me tell you, yours is deffiently a twist from the norm. i really enjoyed these two pieces. at first when i started to read the first one i was wondering what this was really going to be about and then i changed my view totally. the second one confuses me for it’s kinda bouncy, but the first one is pure genius. i think that using stanzas and capilization would make it more mature. and probably make it easier to flow and follow. but the theme is absolutly lovely. though tragic. you deffiently have talent, so keep writing.
The first poem all the I’s should be capitilized. Theyare both well written and detailed. You have a great taletn. Well structured and informative. Keep up the great writing.
you have some really great images if i was you i’d focus on that more and leave our phrases like resigned trepidation because its not as strong as the way his breath hangs heavin in the mindight chill, thats much stronger a line, keep going with specific iamges, good job!
Writer of Hendrix Crying Mary Lix,
And to feel forboding,
Needing more explanation,
Join the two into more deepening unfolding.
Rid it of the asterisk,
Check the construction punctuation,
Or to lose good material you risk.
For a second fleeting,
I was reminded of Falkner in the first,
But you gave a blow of world lost screeching,
And so now Writer of Forboding,
Recommend to write construction unfolding deepening,
Listening to blue light of Mary softly exploding…
v/r, strangepeade
this poem conveys an emotion very clearly. somehow it caused me to look into my own memories, where i found an emotion for myself. good, no great writing
Oh my gosh!!! This is so moving, there is SO much emotion in this! It’s beautiful. You really do have a talent that can and should be used and built upon! There was no particular rhythm that I picked up on but I really think that might have been what helped to make this so gripping. The kind of uneven beat is like feeling loss and that whole unevenness to life. I think that was what stood out to me the most.
Truly, keep writing and making more beautiful poetry; this is what it’s supposed to be!
This has become something hauntingly beautiful. There are some glaring inconsistancies. The first poem fails to use proper capitalization, whereas the second does not (fail).
It seems like the two poems are two separate speakers, with two separate perspectives. They’re very different structurally as well. I like the imagery (in the latter especially). I think something more needs to happen to connect these as one cohesive story. These two elements themselves are very engaging but more could be said or done in this vein before this subject is tapped. I look forward to discovering more of your work.
- A_P
I think you have a nice poem here, I also think it could be more concise. I do not know what killed the man in the poem. There is talk of violence and then he is a ghost. Or is it meant to not be known? I liked the last stanza. Keep working on it and revising it. It can only get better.
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