up to my chin in the floodwaters of a grief-filled river, feet sinking
some profound depths into the earth. come midnight, i will be--my eyes will be
cold&clear and clear&cold and dripping
calamity onto my skin.
if you are unseeing trepidations, i am a stone pillar,
a caryatid being worn down to the bone. but you have forever been
the plaintive one in our little story, and we have long since established
that magnetospheres little matter
when it comes to you and me.
you are a letter addressed to ganymede, an elementary school memory-box,
an apology in lace and jagged smiles. but dear Io, dear lace, dear you&me,
forgive me my apostasies, forgive me my mewling,
and let's
run away.
you are a penchant for charismatic dialogue, a pendant made of gumdrops,
and words that are only five inches high on the deep end.
down in a well, shutters shuttered shutting shutted, i am mossy bricks
and philosophical overlays--just another result of rubbing
the skin off your feet and hanging it to dry in a damp place.
up to my chin in yesterday's cold canned soup, heart sinking
into the celestial orbits of a waterwell narrow and dank.
'i am weatherworn,' you stutter, fingers trailing down your lack-of-spine
and lack of measure--you gulp the sagging entrails of bravery
and wince when it slides down your throat.
i try to turn my head away, try to swim out,
but the truth is that i am afraid i will swallow
floodwater cascading down tubewells,
pebbles clinking through bone-marrow,
acid burning up yourlungs&mine, floodwater, floodwater.
don't turn your head, don't look back, don't
answer my calls when i shuffle towards you, yelling.
don't--because we are sulphurous, sometimes disassociating:
i don't dare look up for fear that i will drown.
rub the skin off your feet
and hang it to dry in a damp place.
take my hand
and carry my pain as i wrench you apart
limb by limb. swallow
floodwater, plunge your chin down, deeper, deeper,
and inhale the sagging entrails of cowardice until they slip
through your stomach in a way even molasses won't.
you wrote to me on the coverlet
of a diary faded brown, elementary
disks slipping around in our orbits, us drowning.
'hang on. everything dissolves.'
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This is late, but late is better than never, right?
This is intense. It's words that you as the poet obviously delights in (shutters shuttered shutting shutted) all woven into this tapestry of longing and pain and anger at this person. Perhaps it is a person from long ago, judging by the diary and the memory box.
This poem is V shaped. Starts big and wide and narrows down to the idea of the last line. I like that kind of poem.
I wish you would have kept the ancient imagery going throughout the poem. Like with the caryatid and Ganymede and et cetera. As it is, these wonderful things are all left in that one little stanza, and I'd love to see more of that throughout the poem.
The poem has nice momentum. It really picks up and then at the end, as if through a clarifying dream (or maybe something cold&clear eyes can finally see) the speaker sees something important. Epiphany is the lifeblood of poetry, and you have it in abundance.
I like the way you don't say right out that 'i am weatherworn' is an excuse, but it reeks of it in the way you say that they stutter and act cowardly. God, I wish I could do that kind of thing as easily as you make it seem.
Good stuff. I'm sorry this isn't very helpful. It was hard to find many flaws. I hope that somehow this turns out to be useful to you. Happy poeting!
I can honestly say this is an interesting way to portray romance, which is what I'm assuming you're trying to do? I love the vocabulary and the flow of the words, it's unique. Once you begin reading it, it definitely drags you in deeper and deeper to the extent that you have to finish it in one go. Which is a good thing. I wish you luck on your other work and hope you continue.
Hello, I'm Maddie and I'm here to review your poem
Ok, so . . . I honestly can tell you that I don't understand this 100%
Like, I think it's about a couple, but then again you could be using a romantic idea as a metaphor for something else, and then there's something about how this person is being really philosophical. Like some of the syntax, while it sounds beautiful when I read it, I don't get it.
Also, I don't know like 10 words in this. I suggest maybe picking synonyms for some of the more advance words, like wth is ganymede? I'm sorry if this is a bit weird, but I don't like the idea of having to look up words in a poem so I can enjoy it. That's just bothersome to me.
Well, I don't really know what else to say. I hope you continue to write and I wish to see more soon.
Good work!
~Maddie
Love it. Really, truly love it. Hard to pick a favorite bit but it might be this:

"but dear Io, dear lace, dear you&me,
forgive me my apostasies, forgive me my mewling,
and let's
run away.
you are a penchant for charismatic dialogue, a pendant made of gumdrops,
and words that are only five inches high on the deep end.
down in a well, shutters shuttered shutting shutted, i am mossy bricks
and philosophical overlays--just another result of rubbing
the skin off your feet and hanging it to dry in a damp place."
I like the momentum the piece picks up as it goes; reminds me of a Sherman Alexie poem. The repetition works well, as does the pushing words together (you&me), to achieve that effect.
A few things to think about, then. "...they slip / through your stomach in a way even molasses won't. " Molasses doesn't really "slip" as far as I'm aware. It has connotations of slowness, and this seems to be something speeding up. Or maybe it could be "the way molasses won't" without the "even" in there? I still don't like conjuring up molasses here. Or maybe "slip" is the wrong word? "Slide" perhaps?
Love the use of the word "caryatid" -- had to look that one up! Shouldn't "ganymede" be capitalized?
Fantastic images here. "Yesterday's cold canned soup" really brought something home to me. I like the return of space and solar system images, and floodwaters. Good thematic stuff. There are a couple places where an ordinary or overused phrase has slipped in ("limb by limb", "profound depths") but the vast majority is powerful language.
Thank you for an excellent read. I'll be looking out for what else you write!
-BFG
Please remind me to review this.
duly reminded<3