Published December 22, 2012
I see you lying next to me
My hand is yours to hold
But regardless of your presence
This unmade bed remains so cold
For this was a mistake
Worst part is I know you feel the same
And now the walls are closing in again
Feeling every streak of light pining away
As my emotions grow intense
Familiar process, when hope departs
Each dawn; an expectation of just a little difference
And you never fail to leave me disappointed
For my days ring mute in the absence of your precious call
My Dear
You threw me off by turning away again
Did you ever see me at all?
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Hi c:
First off, I liked it. I liked the emotion in the writing and I liked the story behind it.
But, the format threw me off a bit. I felt somewhat lost. But overall it was good.
~Tale xx
Hullo Preten,
I want to firstly ask about the structure of your poem. I want to ask if it’s on purpose. I can see that the indents make a story but the non-indented lines also make their own story, which is always a delightful process. I like that a lot. I have a question regarding the italics, which is more of ‘why?’ It’s not necessary and it takes away from the look and feel of your poem, I want to take it far less seriously because you’ve for some reason tucked it into italics.
Your language is in and out as well, it’s too formal for a modern day voice, even though that’s what I’m hearing from it. Your narrator is slipping back a little into formality and it’s working against the read of the poem. I think he sounds a bit silly and dated, which isn’t what you want at all. “Feeling every streak of light pining black/as my emotions grow intense” is just weak, it really is, it’s melodramatic and emo and there’s no real feeling in it at all. It begins nice and solid, this poem, but quickly devolves (as all short poems do) into something less of a standard. It turns out to be uninteresting and frankly typical of most romantic poetry.
I think a lot of my problem is that this reads as though it were prose and I so desperately want to feel the poem instead. I read it and acknowledge that it’s a narrative and there’s a story but I don’t get to feel what the narrator’s feeling, beyond the cold sheets, which is your best image. I want more imagery in this. Not the colour of the sheets or the heat of blackness or whatever. Rather the smell of her hair lingering on the pillow, or the sound of the shower while he still lies in the sheets, how her hand leaves the small smudge of condensation on the side table, by the lamp. Give me something gritty so that I can believe what’s happening here. I know it’s first person narrative and that might seem a little difficult, but we need more than you’re giving, it just isn’t enough.
I think it’s a good poem though, covers all the necessary bases, I think you can do better though. Let me know if you change this or anything, I’d like to see it.
-Pen
Hi!
I chose the italics because I want it to be read like sort of a letter. I'm glad you noticed the purpose of the indentions.
About the emo.accusations, well; the light pining black is just a progression of the imagery that the walls are closing in again, but his emotions for this girl grows stronger, as he realizes that further excommunication awaits between them, since the mistake, as you might have guessed, is the sex.
All the best.
emotions grow*
One more thing, I chose to stay away from the imagery because I personally felt it teared the essence of what I was trying to get across. It creates a fine little scene, yes, but all in all, this is just a mental love letter.
Try and read them more like song lyrics that aren't meant to be sung.
The problem, I think, is that however I read this, I just don't care. Poetry, unlike prose, is so rooted in the nature of the human that I feel that it's necessary to connect in order to have an actually good poem. If you're not connecting, it's not working, and your poem doesn't connect. All well and good to ask me to read it differently (I did, but it didn't change the quality of the poem or what I got from it) but it doesn't help.
I've read other poems of yours as well, and they all lack the connection. I really do suggest you have a look into importing some imagery into your poetry, it will aid your connections immensely.
Also, about the emo line, explaining what you intended doesn't change that it is melodramatic.
Well, it's a bloody shame you feel that way. But then again, aren't feelings in of themselves kind of always melodramatic?
I mean of course it's melodramatic, it's right down pathetic. But isn't that what art is about? To understand that which is pathetic?
They can be melodramatic, but you shouldn't be writing them melodramatically. There are poems that say the same things you do, but better, because they avoid the melodrama. I want to read about the pathetic, just not pathetically. Don't tell me, show me. etc.
here's the downfall of this all:
"my emotions grow intense"
absolutely completely vaguely told, with nothing to feel or grab onto at all, my friend. this poem is a lot of words, a lot of grasping at feelings and declaring feelings, and very very very little feeling at all.
departure is a now. departs is the verb.
now, let's get back to it. this scene needs texture. scent. light. real light. not "light pining black", because that makes no sense, has no source or direction, and so makes us feel nothing. we need sounds. breathing. we need the feeling of the sheets beneath an up-turned open hand and the consciousness, the self-consciousness of the breath and how it might move the bed and if the speaker moves, the other person will know and become aware of their presence, as if they're hinting "pay attention to me" when they just want to wait for that person to grab their hand.
i want to see the color of the sheets, the color of their skin.
when exactly, too, did it become clear that this was a mistake? was it just that there was no spark at the end? no sense of relief? no magic that was expected? or was it the speaker just sobering up, coming back to his/her senses? was it just the departure of the hormones that made him realize, as a thinking person, i didn't actually need or want to do that at all?
oh, come on, this is SEX, make us FEEL.
let me know if you have any questions.
Hello!
This is a nice poem. The regret and pain felt by the protagonist, which is a little hard to show sometimes, is shown quite well here. I like the last stanza of your poem -My Dear
You threw me off by turning away again
Did you ever see me at all? -it's a nice ending to your poem.
I just felt that this bit - This was a mistake
Worst part is I know you feel the same
And now the walls are closing in again-
was slightly unclear because we are not told what mistake you are referring to so it's feels like a sudden jump from here-see you lying next to me
And my hand is yours to hold
But even though you’re truly there
This unmade bed remains so cold.
Yep that's all, hope this was helpful haha
The mistake is the sex in itself. This poem is heavily infleunced by Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart".
Thanks for the review, by the way! Glad you liked it.