I won't forget

by InTheTrees

Published June 1, 2012

In Poems

I can see through your dress.
It's thundering
And we're walking in the dirt,
And I can see these two forget me not blue swells
That I could have sworn weren't there yesterday.
I'm thinking,
Are you old enough?
Is it starting already?

It's beginning to rain,
But darling, you don't mind.
You lean in close, telling me
That if we keep iron in our pockets
The fairies can't take us away at night.
I'm willing to believe you.

The clouds are sobbing now.
It's coming down
Thick, like a shower
So we can barely see the ground in front of us.
We're running,
Laughing, shrieking.
I know we won't make it back
Before the lightening starts,
But that's okay.

You're wet.
I can see through your dress.
Little girl,
Through the downpour,
All that's left of you
Is a pair of wild green eyes
And two little forget me not flowers
That haven't yet bloomed.
Comments & reviews · 4
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KattieCurtis
Review
KattieCurtis wrote a review Review · Jun 1, 2012

Very good and vivid imagery :) You set the scene beautiful and i really really like this :)
the second stanza, all of it is brilliant, it's as though we can in vision the relationship between these two perfectly from the closeness and the trust in her. I think it's beautiful.
I like the 'I can see through your dress part' but I think you should take the 'little girl' out, it sends a wrong message or else you could leave it in and explain it more, maybe I misunderstood but as it is it doesn't fit well. You've created this kind of sexual lust with the wet dress and the fact that the speaker has noticed but the little girl part just ruins the whole appeal of this.
Anyway that's just my advice :)Good work though ;) keep it up!

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octopi
Review
octopi wrote a review Review · Jun 1, 2012

This poem kind of takes me in circles, in a way, when you start talking about putting iron in your pockets so the fairies don't take you away, but that kind of makes it more interesting to me. (probably because I'm an owl city fan, so I like lyrics that do that xD)
I love the lines:
"All that's left of you
Is a pair of wild green eyes
And two little forget me not flowers
That haven't yet bloomed."
although I do agree with karzkin about the stanza "The clouds are sobbing now.
It's coming down
Thick, like a shower" being weak, I do think that can be a bit stronger.
But overall, great poem!
Keep writing.
~McKie

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roxyask
Review
roxyask wrote a review Review · Jun 1, 2012

Hello! Roxy here!
This could be a personal thing, but I think it would be better if you changed "we're"" into "we are" it just drags me into the poem more
I like the questions, it makes me want to read more!
The first line of the second stanza just doesnt sit right with me, I think its because I know theres a better way you could phrase it, for example, if you were expecting the rain you could say something along the lines of-"the rain has already started"
I love the refrence to the old myths with the faries! Brilliant!
third stanza, the second half is better, I can hear and see it, its very vivid, but I would love to know why its okay? Id love another stanza in there which explained that!
The forth stanza is beautiful. I Love it!
If you've any questions or any other piece please let me know!
--Roxy

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Karzkin
Review
Karzkin wrote a review Review · Jun 1, 2012

I'm here, as promised.

I'm conflicted about this one. The first stanza starts well, introducing the motifs of rain, the dress, and the flowers. I especially like the fifth line, and what it implies. I don't like the questions at the end of this stanza. You should never pose a rhetorical question to your audience, but these questions to your subject are ok. But if if was mine I would make them statements, like "I am wondering/if you are old enough". But that's just a matter of taste I think.

Second stanza is hit and miss. I like the development of the rain, but the image of iron in pockets and kidnapping fairies does not sit well. I can see where you're going with this stanza, and I like the last line of it, but this image is so left-field, and so much more abstract than the rest of the piece that is is jarring. I'm all for abstraction, but this image just sits on top of this poem, rather than blending seamlessly. It's as if you thought of the image, then thought of the poem, then tried to jam your square peg into your round hole.

Third stanza is weak.

The clouds are sobbing now.
It's coming down
Thick, like a shower

You really don't need three lines to say this. Also, "Thick, like a shower" is odd. When one thinks of 'shower' in terms of rain one generally thinks of a light drizzle, not a downpour. That said though, I do appreciate the further development of the rain metaphor. It's a good idea, just falls down a little at the execution of it.
I know we won't make it back
Before the lightening starts,
But that's okay.

Ok, I'm feeling this. But why is it ok? You have started something quite tasty, then just left it hanging. This stanza could do with an overhaul. If I may be so bold, I would suggest something like this:

the clouds are bursting now
so thick we can barely see the ground in front of us.
We run,
laughing.
I know we won't make it back
before the lightning starts
but that's ok
[something something intending to be caught in the rain].

Fourth stanza.
You're wet.
I can see through your dress.

Ok, I really dig this. Great motific development, good throw-back to the beginning. This gives the piece a rock-solid structure, forces the audience to go back and re-read. I like it.
Little girl,

My first reaction was "uh oh. This has to go", but when I read the poem again I fully grasped it. It does seem a little trite, but it's so vital it has to stay. Perhaps give it a bit of a polish so it isn't so grating?
Through the downpour,
All that's left of you
Is a pair of wild green eyes
And two little forget me not flowers
That haven't yet bloomed.

Yes yes yes. This it where it's at.

So there are some great moments. But there are rough patches. Iron out the kinks and this baby could be gem.

K.



We think in generalities, but we live in details.
— Alfred North Whitehead