The Prologue to Everything

It’s half-past midnight, but

I can’t see a thing for the dark.
My pupils are looped to the size of thumbnails,
and though they threaten to burst
you’re just a thinly cast shadow against
a wall you might have painted.
I can hear the brushstrokes against drywall
somewhere in the back of my brain,
and there’s still that smear of paint--
here, can't you see?--
where you last pressed your fingers
to my cheek.

I’m here with a book of poetry.

Maybe you wrote it, maybe you didn’t. It’s
this arbitrary nature that separates
man from beast, bird from the foul
world that taints us from the outside in.
It’s this primitive nature that prompts
the voice in your dashboard to point us in directions
we never meant to take. And in that rest stop
we never meant to visit, I caught your reflection
in a grease-smeared vending machine and thought
maybe you looked better with Doritos
than you ever did with me.

I suppose it’s like this, and
I suppose it’s like it’s like that, but

pulling out the petals of daisies
revealed nothing more than the
divinations of crystal balls and lawn ornaments—
he loves me, he loves me not.
Though there’s a red line in my skull from
this damned gypsy scarf,
I can see no farther into the future
than my feet.

I'm not so keen on

Maybe you wrote it, maybe you didn’t. It’s
this arbitrary nature that separates
man from beast, bird from the foul
world that taints us from the outside in.
It’s this primitive nature that prompts
the voice in your dashboard to point us in directions
we never meant to take.

The descriptions that you had used previously were evocative but here it's too straightforward. It just falls short because (I'll try to explain, but probably won't make too much sense) it is too much of an elevated reflection.

Say I'm watching TV and they have one of those voice overs (hopefully with Morgan Freedman because he has the best voice) and it says something that is supposed to be revealing or illuminating. And what I feel like doing is covering my ears and not listening because it just doesn't work, it sounds too corny (most of the time). It's best if the character go off and show that rather than tell us that.

Also it just feels a bit forced, a bit too much like you're trying to come up with the a more elaborate way of describing something that could be said more simply and perhaps better, perhaps not but not so effectively as the reader coming to that sort of conclusion by themselves.

The descriptions themselves are so much more alluring that this momentary break and explanation doesn't work as well.

I hope that made sense.

Otherwise? Well, I thought it was all just really good.

Though there’s a red line in my skull from
this damned gypsy scarf,

I'm confused by this line, unless it's something to do with paint earlier but with rereads I'm sure it might come to me and this poem actually makes me want
to read it again (for pleasure, no less!) so, well, that is an accomplishment.

Oh, and I like your avatar

I can't really quote one thing here and complain because overall it didn't do as much for me as most of your beautiful works do. S4 was by far my favorite, if only because you had some great phrases in it.

man from beast, bird from the foul
world that taints us from the outside in.

This being my favorite. It's the bird/foul word play, haha. You've got a knack for stuff like that.

But that's where the problem comes with this, for me. You didn't have a lot of beautiful words - you just said things. And, sure, that's still good, and fine, and wonderful, because you can completely write poetry in a non-poetic way and it can still be beautiful, but this lacked anything to be beautiful. I didn't feel anything and by the end of it I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be thinking about any of it. I can't tell what the "big picture" of the poem is - or, rather, I can tell what it is, but I'm uninterested and it doesn't effect me. I think either you wrote it without attention to the reader, or the subject matter is simply so removed from the reader that we couldn't understand it even if you have laced it with beautiful words to hint at this, that, and the other.

I have to agree with Mad on the red line/scarf section: I have no idea what you're talking about. Of course, it's you, so it's probably a scar or something, but the thing is I wouldn't know why it would be that and I don't know how to make that make sense within the bounds of the poem. I'm sure you know what it means, but that doesn't really help me at all.

Yes, so, not impressed. ^^, But! That's just because I like poetry that involves me as a reader, and doesn't make me sit down and watch things (things I don't understand) happen to other people (who I don't know) and doesn't involve me at all - because then I'm lost and confused and it's boring.

I wish I could have been more helpful? Yep. That's all I have.

I have to say I really liked this piece. It was great how you talked about the paint-smear on the wall and then the grease-smear on the vending machine, that was very cool. I agree that it had kind of a voice-over quality, but there was also this tortured sense of "man, I just really need to get this off my chest." So basically, great job, mate. I'l definitely be reading more of your work.

Let me just start off saying: I really did like it, I liked the off sense of rhythm you had going on. It confused me a bit in some parts, I wasn't able to follow it sometimes, but I kind of like it that way.

{Quote} Maybe you wrote it, maybe you didn’t. It’s
this arbitrary nature that separates
man from beast, bird from the foul
world that taints us from the outside in.
It’s this primitive nature that prompts
the voice in your dashboard to point us in directions
we never meant to take.

I agree with an earlier post on this, the description is too straight foward, it's kind of off from the rest of the poem.

{Quote}we never meant to visit, I caught your reflection
in a grease-smeared vending machine and thought
maybe you looked better with Doritos
than you ever did with me.

I actually really liked those lines, deep and slightly humorous at the same time!


{Quote} Though there’s a red line in my skull from
this damned gypsy scarf,

Uh, wait, what? I don't get it...Yeah, that line kind of confused me with the whole 'red line' and 'gypsy scarf.' Explain, maybe?
Other than those little things (i'm a nitpicker), I thought it was really good, cuz I always love reading your work.

Jenni

maybe you looked better with Doritos

than you ever did with me.

^ The best two lines, in my opinion. I absolutely adored this poem, which envoked a sort of nostalgic feel of teenage love or something. Maybe I'm just hallucinating. Wonderful writing, really, Sam. Can't wait to read more!

-Medusa.

I LOVED this poem. Maybe it's because I have a thing for angst and whatnot but this was brilliantly written.

{Quote} It’s this primitive nature that prompts

the voice in your dashboard to point us in directions

we never meant to take. And in that rest stop

we never meant to visit, {Quote}

I really liked these two lines. They added to the overall feel of the poem, the use of 'we' contrasting beautifully to the loneliness of the stanza. The repetition of 'we never meant' is used to great effect, emphasising the emotions in the verse.

{Quote} I caught your reflection

in a grease-smeared vending machine and thought

maybe you looked better with Doritos

than you ever did with me. {Quote}

This line is one of my favourites. The use of 'maybe' suggests a hopefulness that is almost heartbreaking.

I thoroughly enjoyed this poem, would love to read more of this work from you. Well done.