catch 22

catch 22

1
i’ve been wondering
how to start this poem
for a while now.

i knew a capital i would be too vague. or may
be too specific.

my limbs are tired. worn-out.
i feel like a bag of arms, and legs,
and fingers and toes,
and tired old eyes. i never thought
the word catch-22 could be applied
to real life, a word learned in 6 grade
language arts, teacher lodging, propelling
words into minds

but now I know.

2
it’s funny.
truth is cliché. “be careful of what you wish for”

i went to manhattan.

my mistake: dark, quixotic night, skies
that fall on tall, metal buildings like rain,
human beings like puzzle pieces, fit together, and
the sweet salt smell of coal-hot nuts in
aluminum, yellow cabs and rainy streets:

yes. november—i fell in love.

3
don’t look up, and don’t look down,
is how the song goes. mother came to me
and asked me: up or down?

sometimes, i told her, it’s better to keep straight.
i have a world waiting for me here: friends,
word documents. but she has worked. worked hard.

up or down? east or west?
and, you know. i was in love.

4
today the skies were gloomy blue.
the sun was muck yellow.
the sunset was curly, muddy,
like my footprint in the sand.

this is why it’s a catch 22, a cruel
circle: it’s either past, present, future.
and i am stuck deciding.

5
you can say that a catch 22 is a triangle
but i have to disagree.

you can say:
one vertex is where i am right now
and the two others are interchangeable,
one decapitation, another cyanide, and i
only have to choose.

but i think that a catch 22 comes in six round numbers:
which ones, i don’t know.
i am only on number 4.

6
the light in my room is yellow.
jazz music.

i feel stupid. but i know
that this is as profound as it will, can go;
that there is misery, and implausible skepticism here
(about my poem, about my life)

and that the light at the end
is only another tunnel

but at the end of the day the world is just a matter
of atoms—of metal, of plastic, of skin,
and one home or another doesn’t count.
one me or another doesn’t count.
one poem. one ending or another.

... Wow. That was... different. It was a little weird and left me frowning, but that's the main reason I liked it. So you have left the i uncapitalized on purpose?

This is very different from any poem I've read, like I already said. The structure is a bit random, but it didn't bother me. I can't even explain this feeling I got after reading, I don't find the words to describe the poem. It's really funny. You did a really good job, congratulations.

See you around,
Demeter xx

Gadster!

I must tell you, 2 and 3 are absolutely beautiful. The way you punctuated them was strange, but effective--I love it when someone uses something I've never seen before and makes it work properly. It's just plain cool. The whole poem has a beautiful, introspective feel to it. Normally, I'm not a big fan of sitting back and reflecting, but the way you pulled this off was amazing--elegant, I suppose. I'm trying to put my finger on exactly what made it that way. If I ever figure it out, I'll let you know.

i never thought

the word catch-22 could be applied

to real life, a word learned in 6 grade

language arts, teacher lodging, propelling

words into my hebrew immigrant mind

The narrative you have here doesn't really work for me. Why? You went from this beautiful, abstract form and linked it to something that actually happened in a non-abstract way. The 'sixth grade language arts' thing snags us from this slightly-fairy-tale world we've been dropped down in, and makes it concrete. We might have to ask you to check your facts, etc.--we were sure we couldn't be sure before, but now nothing is certain.

The idea of words in a "hebrew immigrant mind" is really interesting, and one you might want to save for another poem. My best friend is an immigrant, too--she's Chinese, and the language gap, though not present anymore, is really interesting to hear her talk about. When you're composing different poems, put a little bit of yourself in each, but don't put too much. Poems shouldn't be so much autobiographies as Polaroid pictures.

___

Thank you, Gadster. ^_^ PM me if you have any questions or want me to take a look at something else.

I'm sorry to be a stick in the mud... but I thought this as an eye sore to read. Not the writing, but the structure, the puncuation, and the capitaliztion errors. I was a little confused on how to read in also. The poem itself was very good. I think if you would correct the errors, this will be a wonderful poem. Good luck and best wishes! Peace

Ha. Thank you all.

"So you have left the i uncapitalized on purpose?"
Yep, I did. I tried to make the poem more personal (??? I hope it worked?).

"The narrative you have here doesn't really work for me. Why? You went from this beautiful, abstract form and linked it to something that actually happened in a non-abstract way. The 'sixth grade language arts' thing snags us from this slightly-fairy-tale world we've been dropped down in, and makes it concrete. We might have to ask you to check your facts, etc.--we were sure we couldn't be sure before, but now nothing is certain."
Sam, I completely agree with you. That part was completely unnecessary. You said it the best.

"I thought this as an eye sore to read. Not the writing, but the structure, the puncuation, and the capitaliztion errors. I was a little confused on how to read in also."
It's all right. You're a more conservative reader, perhaps (?) if there's something like that. You should look past the punctuation, and the capitalization, as they were deliberate. Everything might seem a little weird to you, but you should adapt to weird poetry in due time.

I just want to say that this really broke my preconceived notions of what beautiful poetry should look like, and most of these stanzas could stand on nicely on their own. The only crit I have is what was already said above- the real life examples bring us unpleasantly down to earth.

Parts two and three were cool for the way they sounded, esp: "my mistake: dark, quixotic night, skies that fall on tall, metal buildings like rain", but there were other parts that I didn't understand, and that I don't think I'm meant to understand:

sometimes, i told her, it’s better to keep straight.
i have a world waiting for me here: friends,
word documents. but she has worked. worked hard.

so it was kind of odd to read. In spite of this, I was impressed with how you kept a consistent tone throughout each section and throughout the poem as a whole.

this is why it’s a catch 22, a cruel

circle: it’s either past, present, future.

and i am stuck deciding.

I'm not sure this is a catch 22? Just the line about deciding skews it a little, like there's one choice that's going to be made, the "either/or" kind of thing between past present and future, but I think of catch 22 as more of an impasse. But that's just me, so take the term as you will ^_^

there is misery, and implausible skepticism here

(about my poem, about my life)

I don't like the parentheses. There was so much time and so many stanzas spent immersing the reader into the poem from the reality of not deciding where to start, that it's kind of annoying to be pulled out of that illusion for nothing other than self-reflection.

but in the end the world is just a matter

of atoms—of metal, of plastic, of skin,

hehe, matter of atoms
[/ Leja-dork] ^_^
I do like these lines!

one me or another doesn’t count.

one poem. one ending or another.

I stand by what I said earlier about the catch 22. It works better here (and I think it's a nice way to end), but the fact that it's read in light of the earlier line weakens it.

Happy writing!