Ardèche

I was told it never snowed in Misery,
but lovers tend to lie.

Claudette wrote:I was told it never snowed in Misery,
but lovers tend to lie.

On first glance, it seems insubstantial, but if you delve a bit deeper, I think one can find a most satisfying case here. On a broad note, I noticed the following:

You start out in first person, which you yourself advise fiercely against. You didn't make the strongest case for relatability, but I think that can be overlooked by the actual ideas behind this. You have a wonderful fallacy between the truth of Love and the lies of lovers here, which is somewhat of a throwback to the fallacy of Love itself (a nice touch). You set up Misery as the town of lovers, and 'you' (as the narrator) are something of an invader. While your actual position is unknown, (a newcomer to Misery and thus, Love? Or just a visiting critic? One never really knows) from it arise some interesting questions. Is this really an objective look on the nature of love and loss? It doesn't appear to be so-- the tone seems borderline cynical to me. This unnamed character, though new to the manifestation of Misery, certainly isn't new to the ways of lovers and misery (the intangible abstract itself). This makes for a unique, though brief, insight into this little ton/province/whatever. I found it rather intriguing, really; so here I'll go line-by-line.

I was told it never snowed in Misery,

Snow is a well used metaphor here. It exposes your take on the true nature of love. Cold, wet, heavy; cumbersome really. However, this burden has a beauty all its own, and a purity unmatched. Still, that chill resides, presumedly, in Misery itself; another interesting thought (is numbness really just a companion to pain?). As for Misery itself, it's commonly associated with love, but you do a nice job in refreshing this idea. Also, a little research shows the title to be well-chosen, though not immediately apparently so (which may turn away less-involved readers--though I doubt that's a concern considering the generally inaccessible nature of this piece XD). As for the narrator being told this, I could doubtlessly provide several insights into this particular detail, but won't merely to try and keep this slightly less lengthy.

but lovers tend to lie.

Ah, I love your word choice here. It lent to thinking of the lovers physically tending to Lie; the abstraction, itself. Which really is a wonderful image, and I almost wish you'd acknowledge it more.


The stark lack of words here really got me examining the meaning behind the poem (rather then the poem itself), and that, Claw, is a very good thing.

Perhaps work on actually having the reader emotionally involved, rather then just appreciating it in an objective-analysis sort of way XD.

I can see that a lot can be read from these two lines but I would prefer a longer poem. Having said that, I do think you choice your words wisely and the pun on the second line is amazingly witty. It made me think of Donne - 'Until we labour, we in labour lie.' Also, the reference to snow rather than rain was quite original but I really do object to the length.

I like it
I like it a lot

*pounces* Haiku!

I really like this. I think it shows the depth (but also simplicity) of a haiku very well. I don't know what the title means, either out of stupidity or living under a rock...could you elaborate, love?

Colleen

In terms of first person, I was thinking a little of Sylvia Plath, like in "the Mirror" or Robert Frost's "A Peck of Gold". Kind of a balance between a shallow romanticism and the bitter vulgarity of life, heightened with your references to the two cultures. Poignant. Almost like an anecdote in miniature. Interesting contrast to between the collective and the individual. Subtle. Grows on you too, you keep going back to it.

I love it. I won't repeat all cents said, but rather echo it. I wish I had this for timed write on the AP test this year, I could've had such fun with it!

I will say this, though: it feels like the end of some great conflict, and it's the lack of conflict that detaches a reader. Yes, it's fine as it stands, but to make the reader care without the analysis, you would have to elaborate; however, that would also make the paradox woefully overstated, and I like it as it, nice, simple, and understated. Much more effective that way, and it keeps a nice bitter edge to it, without the angst.

And I love the use of the word "lie." Lie together, lie to each other, that first can go two ways... yes. Wonderful word choice.

I shall stop now, in fear of repeating everything cents said so nicely.

[Claudette] 10:46 pm: =/ Colly, it wasn't a haiku

*bites* Well, it has 17 syllables, unless I'm counting badly because I'm running on about five hours of sleep. Although...modern haiku doesn't have to have 17...anyway. I still like it...but it should totally be a haiku. It's short and sweet, either way. The short length is part of its charm.

[Claudette] 10:50 pm: Colly> It isn't a haiku =/ And the title is a district of frnace where there happens to be a town calle dMisery

Oh. Psh. France.

I still like it. I have no constructive criticism...maybe I'll come back with some...or just suck.

-Colleen

It seems like one of those things that at first glance says absolutely nohting, but that when reread, is so unbelievably full of emotion. I like it.

Just two lines... yet they do work. When I saw it on the main page, I was initially looking for more of it ^_^

Two lines; they tell so much. At first, I didn't get it, I guess because I was looking too hard and trying to dig too deep for some hidden meaning. But it's pretty much clear as day, so I felt kinda slow after. Lol

Nice job, Claudette. Best wishes on the rest of your works!!

-Nic

This keeps sticking in my brain. When I first read this, I have to be honest -- I wasn't fond of it. In fact, I'm still not fond of it as a poem. In my opinion, poems need to have at least three lines in order to qualify as, well, poems.

Still, I can't forget this. I keep clicking on it, even though I know what it is. Even though I probably have it memorized, if I thought about it. It seemed so... bland, at first, I suppose. But it feels almost like it connects to a far deeper truth, and that's what keeps bringing me back.

I can't say whether I like it or not, but it does seem to stay with me. So I suppose that's a good thing, eh?

Thanks all.

I'm glad the responses vary. I don't think it is my best poem, but I think it is one of my most liked by me. Because it is so short, and vague, the reader is allowed to interpret as they see fit. Kind of an open ended thing?

By no means my favorite scrap.. But thanks everyone, none the less =]

Claudette,


I've seen cadavers with more life than this.


Better luck next time,
Brad

I liked how both lines were a punchline at love. This punchline at love is from your own experience, and that makes it so much better! Snowed is an excellent metaphore, I agree, and the rhythmic sound makes it that much better. However, I did not understand the first line as much as I understood it as a whole. He lied to you about how it never snows in Misery? I tried, but could not get it. Please tell me!