Conversation

i know you in a conversation
that happened a year ago in comparison.

you’re gone, you said, slipping away
from view behind virginia – do i remember her now?
that’s my favourite photo;
the whole thing was unintended.

but the vertical folds of a red on red table cloth match
the corrugated metal of the shed.
the balloon floating exactly in the far right corner,
simon against the wall, a shadow slinking -

but – me holding a false flame in my fingers,
that was then, vanishing.

This is interesting, though I will say I'm not sure what it is about, or what effect you're trying to get. So I'll do my best to explain how I see it; and you can see if I'm giving the response you're trying to get.

It raises a few questions, the first I wonder is "a year ago in comparison." In comparison to what? Time just doesn't seem like something that is usually compared, I feel like it's supposed compare something like a year ago to a week ago. But rereading it, it seems more like "in comparison" is not referring to time itself but perhaps comparing this year to a past year.

The next few lines seem to be a memory of this conversation that happened a year ago, though I'm not sure I get "do i remember her now?" I'm not sure who is saying it or who it is referring to. It's a bit hard to explain. I'm not sure if the speaker is quoting the "you" or speaking directly to the "you." to paraphrase, it could be "You said you were gone, slipping away" or, "You said I was gone, slipping away," or even, "You said I was gone as you were slipping away." As there are no quotations I tend to assume the first, but I don't know your style of poetry and I know some people will leave out quotations, so I'm not sure what to assume.

The second two lines seem to jump back to the present-- possibly it was the photo that started this train of thought to begin with. The third stanza seems to be the speaker commenting on the photo, possibly comparing elements in the photo from the past to his/her current surroundings of the present (tying together the "comparison" line in the start), or maybe just describing the photo itself.

I love the last two lines-- and I tend to interpret the flame as a hope, a desire, a dream, or something that the speaker was very much trying to keep alive, something that at the time he/she didn't realize was vanishing, was hopeless. But the speaker sees now, a year later, that it was dying after all.

I'm certainly getting a sort of wistful, possibly nostalgic mood, possibly mourning for something lost or what could have been. It's still very cryptic and confusing to me but it does a nice job of capturing a mood, I think. I guess really you have to decide for yourself if this interpretation is what you wanted to get across and what you feel could be changed, if anything.

(I'm new to this, so I hope it helps a little at least!)

Maneda read my mind - that's exactly what I was planning to do when you first put this up: decode the poem . Fantastico...I love a good bit of mental stimulation.

i know you in a conversation
that happened a year ago in comparison.

I love the non-capitalisation. It's intimate and doesn't make any one word (or person) stand out over the rest. These lines are casual, laid back, not exactly lazily spoken, but calmly, I think. And the tone has a marvellous nostalgia to it - an introduction to the opening of the memory. Even so, perhaps because of this very intellectual nature of the lines, I found them like 'grey matter' - little colour, little life. No imagery to hook us with, just a simple statement, take it or leave it. And I don't like the 'coversation, comparison' semi-rhyme going on. I think it ruins an otherwise mature tone.

I wonder who the poem is addressed to, here. From the first two lines, it could be anyone - a friend, a family member the narrator met a year ago, a neighbour, a lover. (I'm thinking the last one...but, we'll see!). I read on:

you’re gone, you said, slipping away
from view behind virginia – do i remember her now?
that’s my favourite photo;
the whole thing was unintended.

The mystery here is alluring, and for me, that was perhaps the only thing driving the poem on quietly. There is no flash-bang array of metaphorical language, no imagery, so this conversational tone was all we had. You almost don't seem to care whether or not we accept this; it's in the nonchalanace of the writing - and I reckon that makes it all the more professional, rather than the words jumping up and down and dancing around the page to make a point.

The 'you're gone' ties in nicely with the 'I know you in a conversation / that happened a year ago' since it concretes the memory down. But the juxtaposition of 'you're gone, you said' escapes me. Or do you mean: You're gone. You said, slipping away from view behind Virginia, 'Do I remember her now?' (to put it in sentences!). And WHAT was unintended? (Please, don't answer this - laeve it up to my deciphering and imagination - I'm just signifying the one-of-many mysteries in the poem).

but the vertical folds of a red on red table cloth match
the corrugated metal of the shed.
the balloon floating exactly in the far right corner,
simon against the wall, a shadow slinking -

My favourite stanza, probably because of the pretty imagery. Is this a description of the photo? Is this a sharper view of the memory? Why the juxtaposition of red (love) with the corrugated metal (harshness, roughness). And the balloon - 'floating exactly' - is that like a wish or a dream 'floating exactly in place'? And I'm guessing Simon is the person to whom the poem is addressed - but I don't get why it's: 'do I remember her now'? (because this would imply that it's Simon, the one who's talking about 'her' and remember her).

I have a funny feeling there might be a change of narrator in the poem, but I'm not sure where.

but – me holding a false flame in my fingers,
that was then, vanishing.

Somehow, I think that we don't really need to explain the mystery out in words to understand it. I feel what you're saying in these last two lines; I feel what you're meaning in the whole poem, and the muddled language is perfect for getting across this feeling of looking back at lovers' dissatisfaction (oh, how I detest putting that so sharply into words!). In the grand scheme of things, it's hard to get across a feeling - which is abstract, vague and hence indescribable - with words, which are so sharp and concrete. So, I guess the language has to be likewise vague as well for greater impact.

So, an enjoyable read. The intellectual in me is shouting to know what's going on, but it's easy to suppress, since I feel like I know it, even if I can't exactly pinpoint it. Thanks for posting this, and PM me if you want to discuss something!

Interesting! A very frenetic piece. Darting from place to place with the heartbeat of a hummingbird. It takes a couple reads to pinpoint the momentum and position of the meaning, like a particle in obedience to Heisenberg's uncertainty principle. It's almost as if you're trying to relate the "schizophrenia" of the speaker. The lonesome desperation. As if she is crying this through her hands and all that comes out is babble until the end, when you stick us with the pin. I take Navita's interpretation on this as well.

Having said that, it is a confusing piece -- one not to be picked up and tossed away. It takes a couple reads to pick out the beauty, the complexity. It's also tidy and short, which means there's less surface area to explain things. There also comes a point where I set a poem aside, because I can't latch on to a point, a feeling, an impression. Luckily, the way you've worded this and its brevity kept me going.

i know you in a conversation
that happened a year ago in comparison.

This kind of sets the stage. You're telling us, not all of this is going to make sense. We are picking up in the middle of things. The narrator assumes that we already know the story. I can't decide whether I like this tactic or not. On one hand, it keeps us guessing. On the other, it tosses us into the dark immediately.

but the vertical folds of a red on red table cloth match
the corrugated metal of the shed.

I'm not sure I know quite what you're saying here. I think of rust first. That the red of the table cloth matches the red of the rusted corrugated metal. But you don't specify that when it would be easy too. Anyway, I like the image. Table cloths and corrugated metal. My kind of poem

simon against the wall, a shadow slinking -

For some reason, this was my favorite line. The sudden introduction of Simon, and his shadiness, and his strange connection to an exactly floating balloon fit in somehow. It was eerie and minimalistic. I think that's what I appreciate most about this piece. It feels like William Carlos Williams. It feels as though you're using every single word precisely, aiming it just so that it pierces the correct ventricle, chamber of our hearts, summons the most specific tastes and images.

but – me holding a false flame in my fingers,
that was then, vanishing.

This was my second favorite parts. The alliteration is to die for. False flame fingers. I love it. And it also, as Navita pointed out, summarizes the poem nicely (I think).

To conclude, I've got mixed feelings about this piece. It's good, but at the same time, since I mostly have no idea what you're talking about, I don't like it. I remember you used to be quite keen on stream-of-consciousness. This feels like that. It goes mostly nowhere. It's a snapshot. No, a fragment of a snapshot. Like a corner ripped from a photograph, maddeningly mysterious and texturally beautiful.

-Kylan

Hi,
Very interesting, I am very undecided about his poem. I love the wording and it gives you a deep, dark, sad, feeling inside of me. But at the same time I really do not understand the concept. I am under the impression that you are describing the fleeting impression of a memory, (or even life?). But really this kind of poetry you do not need to understand. I really like the descriptions you give in this poem, "but – me holding a false flame in my fingers, that was then, vanishing", I really like this part, but yet again I don't really understand it. Although it is just the same really very beautiful. I like how you were able to inflict so much emotion on the reader, without me really understanding the concept. I would recommend submitting this poem Stone Soup Magazine, not only would your poem be read by hundreds, but Stone Soup will pay you for your work.

Pengu =O
I can't review poems, but. You obviously got people thinking. I think this means it is successful. >.> I see an image of a woman looking at a picture and missing someone and enjoying the natural harmony in it. Also I get a sense of regret. I love the implied relationships- simon slinking made me assume he had done something to make him a bit of an outcast, or simply withdrawn, and a possible failed romance, and someone fading away from the protagonist. It is all very emotional but detatched at the same time.
<3

Hello my darling ^^ I like a lot of what you have here but I wish it was slightly less vague. There are some gorgeous lines, strong imagery and every part of it is amazing but I can't quite understand how the parts link together and I find my mind falling from image to image, only grazing the surface of what could be there. Here's a few comments:

i know you in a conversation
that happened a year ago in comparison. [So I found this immediately caught me. It's odd, almost a paradox with the two tenses there. The persona is speaking to 'you' in the present but thinking back to the past. I really like how it draws the reader in.]

you’re gone, you said, slipping away
from view behind virginia – do i remember her now? [I wasn't sure about these two lines. There's not much of an image to grab on to yet. I'd have quite liked something firmer first.]
that’s my favourite photo;
the whole thing was unintended. [I think this might flow more smoothly without the 'was' and the full stop. I'd like it to run straight into the next stanza.]

but the vertical folds of a red on red table cloth match
the corrugated metal of the shed. [Love this image! And the flow is spot on, easily my favourite two lines.]
the balloon floating exactly in the far right corner,
simon against the wall, a shadow slinking -

but – me holding a false flame in my fingers,
that was then, vanishing.[I like the end feeling of absense, of something gone but I find it hard to grasp any actual meaning and I come away feeling disapointed (though that might be in myself) as I really want to link these images together. What I get is a memory of perhaps childhood friends but a disjointedness that suggests growing apart? Or torn apart - fire? And then this odd conversation, maybe one that the persona only hopes she can have or a real one? I don't know.]

Hopefully my thoughts will help a little and I enjoyed the read despite my lack of understanding. You certainly have something here. I just don't know what it is.

Heather xx

Hey Tangent!

I love most of this, as you probably guessed! Not as much as I love you, of course, but that's asking the impossible, no? The one thing that I want to mention is that I have a love hate relationship with the first stanza. That is, it seems to be setting the stage and I love the first line, but part of me just wants to dive in the poem... because I'm reckless and all that jazz. And part of me wants to stay safe. Also, why "in comparison"? I don't know... it's kind of clunky, but it looks weird if it's gone, but it's clunky... I don't know! It's been bothering me since you showed it to me, but I don't know why.

Sorry for being unhelpful! If it makes you feel better, I still love you!

Hey Pengu! I figured, for your help yesterday, I could do something for you. But I’m not good at much other than reviewing. So I give you a review!

i know you in a conversation
that happened a year ago in comparison.

This is actually the only thing that really bothered me. Well, the words “in comparison” are what really bothered me. It just doesn’t sound right there but it doesn’t sound right when it’s not there either.

Still, you did a great job capturing this moment poetically. It sounds like a picture you would find fading from the seventies of some kids that lived in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia. It’s not anything special and in that aspect, it is special.

Great read, Pengu!

~lilymoore

Interesting enough for me to read it twice however I'm not to sure what message you are trying to share in this, or what exactly the poem is about.
Yet it did draw my attention and for that I tip my hat to you!
Great work and keep it up!
-Dawn

Hey there! So, everyone else has nitpicked this, so I'm not gonna bother. I'll just comment on it in general.

So, i rather liked this. I appreciate freeform poetry, like you did here. I liked your imagery. It wasn't overly descriptive, but I got a good picture in my head.

So, this was kinda confusing. I couldn't particularity figure it out. But I liked it anyway. So long as you understand it, that's what counts.

-Dreamy