I drove by your old house today
And it was the first time in 15 years
That I didn't hate you.
I saw you on your grandad's mower
Cutting that April grass under the oak tree.
The tree done got too big to climb
Like we did 20 years ago,
Before you grew up.
Before you made me grow up.
I saw your little one
climbing on the playhouse.
That thing's old as we are.
I guess you fixed it up fresh for her.
Remember when we used to play adventure?
We'd steal your grandad's binoculars
And pick out a trail to go down,
And go down it for hours.
20 years ago, I didn't fear you.
We were just two kids
Not afraid of mud and snakes.
We were just two kids who hadn't learned
Our different sex made us different
Simply because the world says so.
15 years ago, you knew your sex.
You knew your place.
You knew what you wanted.
15 years ago, you taught me
That I didn't learn fast enough.
But I learned to hate you,
And me.
I drove by and saw you today.
And for the first time, I don't hate you.
I just regret that by knowing you
My son will never know your daughter
Or the sweetness we used to know.
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Canary word: Present
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Hi Ayumi,
Overall I just want to say, this is really great poem, both in craft and importance. Thank you for sharing this, and as a survivor too, thank you even more. Writing like this is powerful and we need it badly <3
So now on to some thoughts about craft.
1.
I noticed you capitalized the first letter of each line. That's definitely a traditional way to go and completely a matter of personal style. Personally I find it easier to follow the flow of poems that leave a line in lowercase if it's in the middle of a sentence. But again, completely a matter of personal preference and I'm only mentioning it in case it was something you hadn't consciously thought about.
2.
I really like these two lines. They've got the imagery and voice of the speaker that spark the poem to life. I actually think you could start the poem here, especially since the lines before this, in part, repeat the title. That could add a little more build-up in the poem, more of a sense of progression and revelation as the reader goes on and starts to feel that sense of one-time hate rather than just being told about it straight away.
3.
The way these lines are built really helps give them their impact. The second parts to each pair of lines make me see the ones before them in a different way, especially the last one. They add a lot more depth.
4.
Just as an overall thought, I really appreciate the way you were able to write about this subject meaningfully without being overtly triggering or explicit.
5.
The short lines help create the tone and pacing of the poem. I can read it as an inner monologue, with sentences that come slowly, in a thoughtful manner, with pauses between parts. Like I mentioned in point three, several of these pauses lead into "turnings" where a thought suddenly takes on a new angle and depth of meaning. The slow, thoughtful pace of the poem gives it a reflective mood, and one that is-- sort of aloof? for lack of a better word.
6.
[quote]And for the first time, I don't hate you.[/i]
This is obviously a really important line. It's not only repeated, but it acts as the "hidden" other half of the poem's title. It's like a cause and effect-- because the speaker "drove by your old house today," she realized that the hate is gone.
7.
Okay, last thing here I think. I also just wanted to note that there's a juxtaposition between the speaker reminiscing over the "good" times she had with the perpetrator before abuse turned them bitter, and the actual tone with which she thinks over them. So there are these what would otherwise be pleasant, even heartwarming and relaxing images and ideas set within this sort of distant, stoic tone. It works very well.
That's about it from me. I hope this all makes sense and you find some of it helpful. Thanks for posting.
-- Stringbean
Its really touching and having this kind of low sentiment that drives you to regret the happenings of the past.
Just like one called it a poem of bitterness and lamentation actually suits its place. You know this kind of feeling that you cannot be with the one you love, especially your childhood friend that happens to grow up with you.
One of the many things that can heighten tension among people is this sort of a thing.
Ahh I have no words.
There's such a bittersweetness in this poem, and the times where she recalls her past, you feel it with her. There's this great feel of nostalgia in this, a nostalgia that hurts. It's so painful and yet so beautiful, it reminds me of a gorgeous rose filled with painful memories for thorns.
Thank you so much!