It's 2015 and I'm still loving on this.
Fragment One*~
i had a panic attack on blue twilight,
fifteen days ago, when the eleventh month began to die.
i buried her in my backyard and wrote an epitaph:
twenty fourteen syllables on a calendar.
the photographs November gave me, i tore
to make a collage; you saw it nailed to my front door.
and you knocked against the soggy, German-glued masterpiece
to see if i was okay.
[ i opened the door, but that was only because
i would open any door in the world for you.
and you came inside like a shadow.
the truth is
that you were the centre of gravity
in my house made of cards.]
twenty fourteen syllables i showed you,
over cups of hastily-brewed tears
and cling-wrapped consolations. and i told you
of my faults and my unrealistic ambitions
now that November was dead.
you didn't say a word when my trains crossed the summit, but i saw
dunes shifting in your smile, your eyes uncertain.
you held me close when my words derailed and lied through your teeth,
'it's going to be okay.'
Fragment Two*~
our tomorrows saw us building streetlights
to light up our alleyways;
but the walls were still dark and grimy from where
too many sooty dreams had gathered over the bricks.
so we covered them with graffiti
(to hide their pain).
and i hid electrons in my pockets; there were
protons in yours.
[you were always conventional.]
i turned my streetlights on, so i could see your face.
when the world was spinning
the right way around, and when i had begun
to smile, you leaned down and whispered in my ear.
your voice was like gargoyles, if they learnt to speak,
and though it was warm, it chilled every neuron
that i possessed.
you reminded me
of November.
your hand was gentle on my shoulder,
but i couldn't hear you anymore.
the electrons fell from my pockets. i turned the lights off,
but the darkness's umbrella only gave
you confidence. and you said that
that afternoon had been an ~ existential crisis;
i taped my ears shut and scribbled
'memory' over my eyelids with a permanent marker. and even when
you dabbed at my eyes with spirit swabs, it didn't erase the ink.
i was FOP positive, you said;
('forget all problems,' i said.)
Fragment Three*~
i sang to the sound of the static in the car
the entire drive home, pretending
i couldn't hear you
and belted out the wrong lyrics to
'Tomorrow never knows.'
[you sang twenty fourteen syllables under your breath.
twenty fourteen. twenty fourteen.
an epitaph written in blood-red ink,
crusted over with grime and sweat.
twenty fourteen. twenty fourteen.]
i stared out the window; the sky looked like
it had been given a blood transfusion.
[twenty fourteen syllables lining the sky.]
Fragment Four*~
i told you, long ago, that i had always been afraid
of wearing my heart on my sleeve, not because
i thought it ugly but because i didn't want
my aorta to catch in the sink when I did the dishes at night.
you asked me where i kept it; i never kept secrets from you, back then.
so i told you it was in my attic, in a coffin that was
gathering rust.
you said you wouldn't tell a soul.
you didn't.
but i did.
Fragment Five*~
you stole it when i wasn't looking.
you slid my heart out of its casket and you
turned on all the lights.
and you gathered all my electrons
and strung them up in my backyard.
i woke up to sparks in my empty ribcage; i woke up
to a sand dune smile, but the winds in your eyes
were still.
you swung open my rib cage, added a last syllable and pressed
my heart into the moth-eaten membrane, twining it firmly inside me
like a cloud.
'twenty fifteen syllables,' you whispered.
that night, i read an epitaph to December
by the light of the blue moon.
Hello, Pompie! I'm here to review, as you asked.
First of all, I suggest you don't use *~ after the fragments, as it changes the tone to something more uplifting than I think you want. Also, I wouldn't bold them.
1)
I really like this, and all the imagery you put into it. Very nicely done.
I don't know if I'm a fan of the repetition of "twenty fourteen," but that's up to you, as it doesn't make that much of a difference.
Try rewording this. Say "I tore the photographs November gave me" or something like that. As it is, it's awkward.the photographs November gave me, i tore
Take out "made." Trust me. It'll make a difference.in my house made of cards.]
November is dead, yes, but I want to know what killed it. "Now that you've killed November" is more powerful than simply saying it is dead.now that November was dead.
I suggest breaking the line after summit, as it's a stronger word to land on. Also, I think you should somehow work in trains earlier in this fragment, as it's a bit jarring to suddenly have such a new and prominent symbol near the end.you didn't say a word when my trains crossed the summit, but i saw
Combine these two lines. Try using a stronger verb than "were." I would do it like this:but the walls were still dark and grimy from where
too many sooty dreams had gathered over the bricks.
I don't think the parentheses are doing anything for the poem there. I think I'd stick "to hide their pain" onto the end of the preceding line, minus the parentheses.so we covered them with graffiti
(to hide their pain).
While learnt and learned are correct, the NA spelling is learned, so I don't know whether you are UK or US, but I thought I'd tell you about that.your voice was like gargoyles, if they learnt to speak,
You lose me here, pompiepoo. It seems like such a sudden switch between a conversation and this volatile reaction of the narrator. Also, what is FOP? I like the use of "you said," "I said" even though it's confusing. I just think more of a transition between the previous part and where this quote starts would work better.i taped my ears shut and scribbled
'memory' over my eyelids with a permanent marker. and even when
you dabbed at my eyes with spirit swabs, it didn't erase the ink.
i was FOP positive, you said;
('forget all problems,' i said.)
I don't know if I'm a fan of "like a cloud" being so separate from the rest of the phrase. Experiment with line breaks here.twining it firmly inside me
like a cloud.
I heard you're begging for reviews. Ask and you shall receive.
Fragment One-
i had a panic attack on blue twilight.
fifteen days ago, when the eleventh month began to die.
i buried her in my backyard and wrote an epitaph:
twenty fourteen syllables on a calendar.
i tore the photographs November gave me
to make a collage; you saw it nailed to my front door.
and you knocked against the soggy, German-glued masterpiece
to see if i was okay
twenty fourteen syllables i showed you,
over cups of hastily-brewed tears
and cling-wrapped consolations.
so we covered them with graffiti(to hide their pain).
andi hid electrons in my pockets; and there were
protons in yours.
darkness'
back then i never kept secrets from you, so you asked me where i kept it;
and i told you it was in my attic, in a coffin that was
and strung them up in your backyard.
I heard you're begging for reviews.
Timmy here <3
Since you have so many comments and yet so few reviews, I am going to try my best to leave this as a review - and not just a garbled rush of compliments (although everything I want to say is compliments. why you no write stuff I can critique? >.<) I will be completely honest with you here: It took me all of five days to figure out you were talking about 2014 and 2015 in your poem. Chalk it up to me being silly and ignorant again (well, that is just blind), but I honestly read it several times, looked at it to review - and then finally it hit me while in the shower. So, yeah. I finally came to understand what you're saying here, and I am so happy I did. Now I can fully appreciate the piece for what it is. Is that a nitpick? Absolutely not. While poetry is supposed to make people think, this time I was just being a dunce. I even sounded it out like one would the year, but never made the connection. So I suppose it's a good thing I waited until now to review the piece. hee-hee
I am going to read through as carefully as I can, and try to find something else to say.
blue twilight
unrealistic ambitions
now that November was dead.
but i couldn't hear you anymore.
you said that
that afternoon had been an
darkness's umbrella
Hi
blah blah
hate hate hate here's some dosage of hate.
*Bows*
Oh yeah and tldr lol
Hello my dear, Retro here to do a little review. As was my usual style I shall do I a few nitpics then talk about what I afored.
Now my nitpicks are going to sound pathetic and just suggestions because this was near flawless. To start with the different colour font in the first stanza. I can't see any reason that it adds anything to the poem. It just distracts if anything. So I would potentially change that. and my only other comment is that I'm not sure twining in the lad stanza works that well. And think a better word would fit better there. But again these are just suggestions.
However, that being said this poem is frankly outstanding and I've no idea how you could craft something so harrowingly beautiful. I am in awe at your ability to write like this. So well done, a thousand times over well done.
Keep it up,
Liked!
~Retro
I'm here to review! I do have to say, there's not much to correct! Everyone's saying stuff like "that was wow" and "that was woah" and "best poem ever." My favorite fragment was fragment five. However, I do have a small nitpick: if you're not going to capitalize the beginning, why capitalize at all? The capital letters seem awkward. Well, see you around.
This is great best poem I have read on this site and I'm not just saying that. keep writing~~~
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