z

Young Writers Society



Sometimes when I miss you

by indieeloise


 

i.

 

Sometimes when I miss you, I write

stories of love and redemption 

of long journeys and leaving the past behind

 

Sometimes when I miss you, I dance

alone in my kitchen to a country song

just because it reminds me of you

 

ii.

 

I remember how you swept me in your arms

at the end you kissed my clasped fingers and

my trembling hand collided with your jaw

 

You caught me off guard

But I think that’s the first signal

of being drawn to love

 

Not a fall, but a quiet nudge

a stirring deep, buried beneath

rationalities and he’s-not-right-for-me

 

iii.

 

I remember the now-forsaken bench

how we sat under the trees, and

you whispered of your abandoned innocence

 

And how you’d tell me 

you felt empty, and I’d silently plead 

to be the one who fills that void

 

iv.

 

They told me I should forget

I shouldn’t get my hands dirty 

running around with a maverick like you

 

Instead I listened to the echoes 

reverberating deep in the chambers of your heart, 

I traced the muddy tracks on your trampled spirit

 

v.

 

Your words, like a deafening waterfall

wavering in and out of demanded existence and blended surroundings

Why is your voice the loudest when I must profess your evanescence?

 

If not for others, then myself and you

I feign platonic indifference, and hold onto the bittersweet hope

that maybe your fingerprints will fade with time

 


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Points: 581
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Sat Dec 29, 2012 9:47 am
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sushantshubham wrote a review...



Really you write this poem from your heart. You try to seen every moments of love in this poem. When a man falling in love then how he reacts yourself you just imagine. In this poem I can't understand a para from this poem but whenever this is a great love poem.
Your poem touched the heart of every reader and give a excitement to lovers. I am a writer of Hindi literature so,If any sentence can't be understooded by you then heartily sorry for this.

Finally you are a very good writer and your poem is too good. Keep it up your performance on YWS. This writing skill is carried you on your destination. Thanks for write this poem.

S.Shubham




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Sat Dec 29, 2012 8:47 am
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birdsfly97 wrote a review...



This piece is incredible, obviously you have great talent for writing.
Each line is very descriptive and intriguing in such a way that makes the reader feel as though they are standing right there next to you, feeling and experiencing your longing and pain.
There is not much to criticize except that you could consider a twist at the end that would throw the reader off guard, perhaps something that would keep them thinking and still questioning once they had finished reading.

I was very, very impressed and inspired by this piece, it was absolutely amazing!

- Erin




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Sat Dec 29, 2012 1:06 am
Dreamwalker wrote a review...



I always liked the breaking up of a narrative poem through roman numerals. It always made the poem, as a whole, seem more clean-cut. Aesthetically pleasing, whether the substance be it or not, so when I saw this had been marked down in the way it was, I was immediately drawn to it.

But, of course, structure is only a very small aspect of a poems aesthetics.

That would be where my greatest criticism towards this bit would come in. Not necessarily the structure, which was cool and free-formed, nor the substance, which you clearly state throughout a network of mixed-matched stanzas (the lack of chronological order made this stronger, even if just by a bit), but the lack of aesthetics that would make this poem more than a summarized tale of woe.

In capturing those fathomable emotions such as love through a direct narrative, we miss the interweaving metaphors. The parallels and facets that create that ache the reader feels when not only moved by the poet's intent (which should really only account for a very small fraction of the aforementioned ache), but also the poet's diction. The way they can interweave such pleasant and painful emotions into the way the flower grows, or the page turns, or the way the breeze hits you just right. Without metaphor, you have very little to really account yourself a poet for. Without strength through simile, your written words barely constitute a poem.

This, of course, doesn't mean this is bad. By no means am I criticizing this to that sort of extent. I find the passion is quite clearly written. Decisive, even. You get a little murky in those last two stanza's when you start comparing words to waterfalls and what not. A bit too stoic and archaic for my tastes, especially when it comes to free-formed contemporary poetry. Abandoning some of those outright flurries of emotion for something darker and more intimiate might be a good change for this and you.

For example (and you'll have to bear with my randomness, I'm afraid);

I remember the now-forsaken bench
how we sat under the trees, and
you whispered of your abandoned innocence


I like the way this feels, but not necessarily how it's told. So let's reword and remodel.

ex. I remember the now-forsaken bench
and we'd mingle, like leaves splayed bare to morning
who could have known the breeze would pull words
from your lips, a chorus of changed colours
of how all you felt you were was brown.

In my example, I played with the concept of brown being a direct metaphor for feeling dirty, or no longer having innocence without ever stating it. The leaves made you one in the same, though you may have been red, or orange, or even green depending on the season. Just, he felt he was nothing more than brown.

A little prettier than simply stating, ne?

Nonetheless, interesting piece. You definitely know your structure well, which is good to see. Lets just see a little more poetic device used.
~Walker




indieeloise says...


Thanks for the review and great advice, I will work to channel it in the future!



Dreamwalker says...


No problem! And sorry about any typos throughout that review. I'm notorious for forgetting to reread, unfortunately.



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Fri Dec 28, 2012 8:31 pm
speakingofsarah wrote a review...



This is beautiful, you have such talent!
"you whispered of your abandoned innocence" is probably my favorite line, but I don't have any corrections. You can almost hear the needing in your words for this person, and I can feel the personality coming through it.

It is amazing, congrats! :)




indieeloise says...


Thanks so much! Really means a lot :)



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Wed Dec 05, 2012 3:57 am
SmileILoveYou wrote a review...



I really want o read this piece, I can tell by the reviews that's its good. Do you think it will be back up soon? Gosh, I'm impatient. :)




indieeloise says...


I'll put it back up for a day! :)





I absolutely love it. Just as awesome as I expected no critique needed here! :)



indieeloise says...


Thank you very much! :)



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Tue Dec 04, 2012 8:48 am
Arcticus wrote a review...



Your passion emerges out of every line of this poem. The choice of words, the flow all fit well.

I really like these lines:

"And how you’d tell me
you felt empty, and I’d silently plead
to be the one who fills that void"

"I traced the muddy tracks on your trampled spirit"

Now what about some constructive criticism? Well, I'd suggest you to remove the stanza numbering (quite unnecessary here). Secondly, I think the last stanza can be a better, more conclusive one. And most of all, you're still 14!! keep writing like this and you'll be the next best thing. ;)




indieeloise says...


Thanks for the encouragement!



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Tue Dec 04, 2012 7:47 am
blakesink wrote a review...



Wow, a really really emotional piece of writing. I can see that you submerged inside yourself to gather the raw emotion. A few grammatical errors here and there, but you hardly notice them as the poem itself floats you towards its finish.
A truly inspired piece. I loved the ending, so potent and heartfelt.




indieeloise says...


Thank you so much, that means the world!




As a former (and rather excellent) liar herself, Aru knew that, sometimes, speaking the truth felt like wrenching a thorn out of your side. But doing the opposite meant pretending it wasn't there. And that made every single step ache. It was no way to live.
— Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Nectar of Immortality