Kisses

Every singular day we’d kiss,
we’d smile, and say, “Goodbye.”
From lonely breakfast to lonely dinner,
I think of a man who
stayed to leave.

And in the middle of the lonesomeness,
over a cold sandwich lunch,
and bitter-black coffee,
I think of some words that
would make me braver.

I use the empty plate as a mirror,
and remove his old yellow cap
to once again find my auburn hair.
I think of the cajolery,
and move the mirror to the sink.

I was sometimes his lover,
his family, his friend.
Yet from every wistful dawn to dawn,
I think of the man who
left but stayed.

Interesting, I like the symbolism that you used. I also like how you didn't make the person seem like they were just ranting about how their life sucked. A major difference seemed to be that while this is a pretty common topic, it was a slightly different twist to it. I can't tell if I like it or not, but its interesting.

Also, a couple little things. I'm not sure if you meant to have "singular" in the first line, but it seems a bit out of place. Now, right at this moment in my commentary I'm going to have to veer off because I just noticed that the first 2 lines remind me of a song that a friend of mine used to like a lot...I think it was called "everytime we touch" or something like that. Anyways, you might want to change those first 2 lines a bit or some people might identify the poem more with the song than you want. Back to what I was saying before.

I think of a man who
stayed to leave.

I think this is an interesting choice of word sequence, I wouldn't use it because it doesn't seem to work...logically. But it does sound good, and it does draw attention to your point without completely ruining it either.

I think this is pretty good. I'm a guy though, so I can't identify with it as well. Though I think the feeling of remembering someone through everything you do, is something that most people can identify with. Good work and good luck. PM me if you have any questions.

Hey Hibiscus -

Can't say I enjoyed this poem. Neither the subject matter struck me as particularly inventive, nor the way you addressed it. Mainly, whatever effect you wanted to achieve got swallowed up by the dull da-de-da-de-da-stop / da-de-da-de-da-stop flow you had going in this piece. And while lonesomeness and love and marriage and marital relations and all the rest of it are all bleary-eyed melancholic themes, I still think that even sad poetry should provide some kind of entertainment, some kind of enlightenment. Otherwise, what was the point of reading it?

I think freshness was what this poem lacked - unlike the couple of other peices of yours I critiqued. It seemed stale, this one, like it was drawing out on words for the sake of words, and not for the sake of creating any kind of more lasting impact or delighting us with an intellectual nugget of any form. So, the woman is contemplating the irony of how she stays at home and her husband works - in effect, that the marriage has sort of separated them even more and that she hardly ever sees him. And? What do you hope to get across, what picture do you want to paint, what metaphor resides in this tale, what can we come away with from this? You cannot create a sense of hopelessness using hopeless poetry; here, the structure, style and form shouldn't mirror the theme, simply because if it does, the reader will be too put off to read it through till the end, meaning...well, meaning nothing, really, other than your intention cannot be carried through.

Let's take a look at this:

Every singular day we’d kiss,
we’d smile, and say, “Goodbye.”

The pace of this is so slow that it's barely moving. With poetry, you want movement, you want flow - you want our eyes to keep reading it, to be interested. And what's the hook here? 'Every single day' - I don't see this as a great way to start, simply because it has that very mundane sort of everyday feel to it; it presents to us something so common that it's an instant turn-off. As for the smiling and kissing - too happy-chappy for my liking, too moony-eyed-old-couple-lovey-dovey, too let's-resolve-the-conflict-before-we've-even-introduced-it. The stagnant flow contributes to this sense of having reached a state where nothing remotely of interest happens - and no one likes a happily ever after before the piece has even begun. While the slowness and 'goodbye' do indeed give the smiles/kisses a sad feel, it's a boring puppy-eye feel, a shallow feel - like your heart isn't really into writing this.

From lonely breakfast to lonely dinner,
I think of a man who
stayed to leave.

Once again, the repetition of lonely coupled with the mediocre word choice, lack of imagery and stagnant flow further prevent us from continuing reading. The paradox of 'stayed to leave' had potential, but it was subsumed in the blandness of the rest of the stanza. Think about pairing up intellectual themes like paradoxes with interesting vocabulary and imagery - use imagery as your tool to convey an idea.

And in the middle of the lonesomeness,
over a cold sandwich lunch,
and bitter-black coffee,
I think of some words that
would make me braver.

First three lines here had some imagery-potential, but the nonexistent flow killed whatever effect they might have had. I, for one, have seen such bare and beautiful things as cold sandwiches and black coffee used to great effect to convey a sense of isolation in other poems - but here, by this stanza, it is already too late. Also, repeating 'lonesomeness' serves no purpose - we get it already, no need to hit us over the head with it (rather, it seems like you were hunting for words to use to make the stanzas the same length, and failed).

Also, the last couple of lines are too direct here - yes, I think I have reached the idea: directness. What do you want to convey? A sense of isolation, yes? And this is a feeling. Feelings, by definition, are abstract, indescribable things, and putting them bluntly in direct and concrete words does them no justice. Therefore, it is not to your advantage to use literal language here - instead, focus on figurative language and painting an entire external picture to reflect the internal, rather than trying - to no avail - to take us inside the heart/mind from the outset.

I use the empty plate as a mirror,
and remove his old yellow cap
to once again find my auburn hair.
I think of the cajolery,
and move the mirror to the sink.

So, you breathe some colour, some life into this here. Why is it just not hitting it pitch-perfect, then? Because I think we read it too slow to take any of it in, and also because it seems too haphazard, too disjointed, too spur-of-the-moment type of imagery than anything well-planned - it contributes to no overarching sense of isolation, but a very fragmented picture of something you are still finding it difficult to convey. An extended metaphor provides you with a better web of ideas than a linear progression of imagery, a means of getting from A to B, as it were - think about what image you want to use as the central axis and base the poem around that.

I was sometimes his lover,
his family, his friend.
Yet from every wistful dawn to dawn,
I think of the man who
left but stayed.

Yes, fine. She thinks of the man who left but stayed. And? Is that all? Nothing more than a faded impression of reality? What am I supposed to leave this poem thinking? Feeling? For I see there is supposed to be some feeling, some thought here - as there is supposed to be in every poem! - but it has been executed so hazily so as to seem like the poem is only the barest shadow, the faintest imprint.

I hope that was helpful for you. PM me if you have questions, or would like to discuss this poem further.

Navita