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S.J.H4: a Finale

by Casanova


sunsets are a mysterious thing

all day i sat, on my little porch at the house you never had a chance to see, 

bright orange(or, yellow as everyone else calls it, my shadeblindness
                                                                      prevents me from discerning) beamed against
        my hollow grey eyes that you always told me looked blue in the daylight

I wonder, are they blue now, sitting with her, 
                             grasping her hand,
                   kissing her lips, 
          and holding her?

heh, it's weird, ya know? 

April 29, 2016 

the last day we saw each other- and I've written about it a thousand times. 

we lied in the meadow at the park, near the pier if I recall

after showing off my doing push-ups with you sitting on my back, 
                 I tackled you, 
                            and wiped the hair from your eyes 
       your smile enlightened me as to what life was, then 

I nodded, and you nodded back
             and I took the opportunity to lean my head, ever so slightly down
so our lips could meet, for the first time 

what was it, then? I know it had been a few months at least, a year of knowing each other, and I know at least five months of dating. it all started on that one day... 

I don't remember all of it, but I remember how we met.

that one skype group your friends sister put us in together. we never knew each other, and yet I could tell you were feisty as soon as we started talking. my god, we hated each other that first week. yelling and screaming, cursing, basically trashing each other until we were blue in the face. it was all very strange then, until I called you one day while I was waiting on Black Ops Two to load, and we started talking on the phone. I said you were cute, you said I was handsome, and it all started then and there. 

your birthday, 2015. do you remember that? I waited till midnight so I could give you a birthday present- I was too poor then to afford a gift. I called you, and asked you if you would like to go out. several months of knowing you, several months of loving you. and I remember, some days after before you were fixing to leave to someone's house for a few days without wifi and we were on the phone, I hesitate in talking, and after you questioning me over it I finally broke down and told you that I love you, and I'll never forget the feeling of joy I had whenever you said that you loved me too(it still rings in my memory to this day.) 

I could go on and on about everything that I remember, but what I remember most of all is that through everything that happened, it wasn't your fault that it ended, and why you feel so horrible after everything, I don't know.. It's been almost a year now sine I've heard your voice, and been several months since the end of everything, and yet every now and again, I find myself going through old messages and screenshots, my heart vying for the part of me that left. 


this laptop feels heavy in my lap
but not near as heavy, 
as my heart

lonesomeness fills it,
which sounds cliche, 
but true in every meaning of the phrase

my hands, weak from fatigue, 
reach out for something, 
dying for it, 
but know that it'll never be there to be held. 

looking out the window, 
i can see several colours that fill my heart with rememberance

pink, yellow, red, orange
when looking, I only see two of the four, 
but you always told me they were different,
although I could never tell the difference 

the light's dimming, and tonight's the night of the new moon  

funny how a simple day change could make me remember so much 

sunsets are a mysterious thing 

and sometimes, I'm afraid our love has set like our Sun, 
but unlike It, 
never to rise again. 

what would you do, 
my dear, 
if I were over you?

Is this a review?



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176 Reviews

Points: 1983
Reviews: 176

Thu Sep 21, 2017 1:13 am
sheysse wrote a review...

Hey there! Shey here for a review!

Overall, this was a good piece. Admittedly, I'm not a big fan of this breakup genre. I find it to be repetitive, and usually I don't go out of my way to read poetry about heartbreak, but this one stuck out to me.

I won't lie. This isn't a unique poem in any capacity. There isn't some beautiful metaphor that makes it better than every other poem about romance/breakup. In that regard, it's very basic. Don't get me wrong. That doesn't mean it's a bad poem by any means. In fact, it was a great poem, for reasons I'll discuss further down. But, if you're going to write a piece with such a common theme, you should most definitely look for ways to make it unique.

Why did I like this? Why did I choose to read it? The piece starts with a very nicely formatted stanza or two, and as a stickler for whitespace, I really loved it. You then go on to tell what I think is a true story, but it was such a cool story anyway. Not you're typical "we met in a bar" sort of deal. So while your piece wasn't unique in the sense that it was ground-breaking or revolutionary, the poem naturally came out as unique. I don't know if it was your intention, though I imagine it was. But that's the reason why I loved this so much.

Overall, great job! Keep up the great work, cause I look forward to seeing more from you!


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1733 Reviews

Points: 91930
Reviews: 1733

Mon Sep 18, 2017 1:38 pm
BluesClues wrote a review...

Hi there!

I see you say "a Finale," so I imagine this is part of a longer poem telling the story of this romance. Although really, I think "Middle" was really strong and could be a poem in its own right. I liked how you brought in both the color of the light and the color of the narrator's eyes and how the narrator sees one color but the crush sees a different one. The "heh, it's weird, you know?" was a little strange, though - it didn't fit the voice.

On that note, reading through the whole thing, the narrative voice was kind of all over the place. I think it's partly the different formats you chose - free verse that wanders across the page vs. prose poetry vs. free verse that stays put. The prose poetry especially threw me, because it was such a drastically different format than the rest of the poem (or at least this part of the poem). I feel like most of the middle bits of this part of the poem are a lot weaker than the start and the end - you lose a lot of the imagery and figurative language that I love so much at the beginning and the end. After the opening, I feel like the next part that's really strong and poetic is "Now" - not the whole thing, but starting with the "pink, yellow, red, orange," where you tie back to the shade blindness from the beginning.

I think you could trim this down a lot, maybe even just to those two spots. But if you don't want to, I'd suggest pulling the most important bits from the whole middle part - especially the prose poetry - and playing with that more, trying to tie in more imagery and figurative language to make the voice more consistent and that part of the poem stronger.

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41 Reviews

Points: 2331
Reviews: 41

Mon Sep 18, 2017 11:28 am
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Carlymillie wrote a review...

You know why I love this poem?
first of all, I am a big fan of heartbreaks. Like for some weird reason, I enjoy a bitter end, and when one of the mourning party gets to write about it.. So this altogether, not to hype, but the best poem I have read so far, since I joined YWS..

Anyhoo, As much as I do not understand why your writing format kept drifting left to left, right to left and bskc and forth, I cared less, 'cause I was too caught up in the words.

my favourite parts of the poem was how you were able to apply a few literary devices in you work. The figure of comparison (metaphor) was just well handled.
** and sometimes, I'm afraid our love has set like our Sun,
but unlike It,
never to rise again **.. not so many people can pull that off.
My friend has a huge problem when it comes to simile and metaphor, but you did. and am showing this to her.

Because I've been blabbing for so long, I'll just like to point out the parts where I went "awww":
** Now
this laptop feels heavy in my lap
but not near as heavy,
as my heart**

** pink, yellow, red, orange
when looking, I only see two of the four,
but you always told me they were different,
although I could never tell the difference** (This part made me smile, that was kinda a comic relief from me, giving the sad tone the poem had).

thank you!!!

I hope everyone's safe and sound and has some potatoes in the pantry.
— Arcticus