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Truckly Views

by Via


Truckly Views

A driveway, by any other name,
is a portal to human existence.
A vehicle placed in darkness
against lighted rooms of windows
knows more of secrets than you or I.
A secret kept safe by metal;
aluminum that can’t be bribed.
Patterns of unconsciousness
conceal it’s mind from wonder.

Tonight I watch her form through the pane.
She removes her hair and pulls on her hat--
A reminder of how close we came to losing her.

Tomorrow we celebrate—
we didn’t.


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Mon Dec 29, 2008 9:30 pm
Meshugenah wrote a review...



Hello, love!

First, on the first stanza: I agree with Anna, the wording is off -- maybe something like 'against windows of lighted rooms'? And then, the line below I like, but the fact that there is no transition bothers me. A lot. Though you don't need it necessarily, and probably left it out on purpose, I really want to throw a 'that' in there.

I'll also agree with Anna that you don't tie the stanzas together by much more than a thread - and that being 'Tonight I watch her form through the pane' in the second stanza. If you want to connect it more and not change/add anything, I'll use 'that' instead of 'the' since it connects the speaker's experience with the observation in the first stanza.

And, because I'm me and I trim everything until there's nothing left (sorry!), in the first stanza, to get rid of the repetition of 'secret' since I don't think it's particularity effective here, since it's not the focus of the poem, maybe something like this? '..than you or I,/kept safe...' maybe? I should probably get out of the habit of simply taking poems and, er, 'fixing' them. I do it because I love, though! <3

Oh! Possibly a way to tie-in the 'her' in the poem that I can't be annoying and give you a suggestion for would be to mess with the title, so the reader knows to expect something more than what you present in the first stanza, and thus isn't as thrown off by the second and third stanzas. This does feel somewhat unfinished, like we're missing a movement (er, stanza) somewhere. Is that a possibility?

I love the last stanza, love it. And I'll go out on a limb and guess I know at least in part what this is about, and simply say well done; for everyone else, maybe elaborate a bit more? I'm taking my clues from 'She removes her hair and pulls on her hat--
A reminder of how close we came to losing her.'
those two lines, and then the fact that I know you. So if that's what you were aiming for, I got it for sure. No hair from chemo treatment, cancer, how the speaker came close to losing her.




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Mon Dec 29, 2008 9:04 pm
Firestarter wrote a review...



Hey Meg! I give my one thousandth review to you. Happy Birthday!

I'm struggling to completely understand this poem. I think what you're trying to tell me is obscured somewhat -- there feels like something is lacking.

Is the her mentioned in the second stanza the truck/car or a person? Who are they? Why is she not mentioned until near the end? It is hard to empathise/understand a person placed later on, with little explanation of who, or what, they are. Is the poem simply about how close the narrator came to losing a truck, in an accident perhaps?

I'm having a lot of problems understanding it, either way.

In terms of language, the repetition of secret in two successive lines makes it stale. It's should be Its. Form in the second stanza looks like a typo of from. The rhythm is good and it flows well.

I think you need to introduce the her earlier, and explain why she was almost lost, and why it matters. Otherwise the meaning is lost on the reader, even if it seems straight-forward to a personal experience of yours. Something has been lost in the translation and your poem suffers because of it.

I hope you re-write this and I can revisit it! Hope this helped. Good luck, and hope you had a nice birthday!




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Mon Dec 29, 2008 5:10 pm
Emerson wrote a review...



Hello Via! *snuggles* And happy birthday!

against lighted rooms of windows
This line bothered me more than anything. It throws me off. Saying that the rooms are lit just doesn't work in my head, and then for some reason, where it is, "rooms of windows" sounds awkward. Perhaps you can say something else here?


I really, really love the end of the poem. The last two stanzas are my favorite. They're so down to earth and simplistic. They hold no emotion, and that's the key of it, because it shows how the speaker is holding back all the emotion. I adore it for this! You use dashes in both stanza however, and perhaps you can use a colon in the first stanza instead? That way the force of the comma in the third stanza has all its strength to itself, and doesn't have some of that punch stolen by the first.

The only huge problem I have with this poem is that the first stanza, to me, I cannot relate it to the other stanzas. Maybe I a missing some strong important thing, but I can't relate the car to her, and even though I love them both, together I can't find their meaning. I understand the "portal to human existence" part with relation to the other two stanzas, but I think it's the secrets that are really throwing me off. What secrets? And how on earth can a car know more about them, a thing so lifeless, than a person? Maybe that's the point, but still, I'm lost!

I like it a lot, even if I am loss. ^^




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Mon Dec 29, 2008 6:27 am
silverSUNLIGHTx wrote a review...



I really liked this poem, but like June I didn't quite understand it. Maybe it is just late night drowsiness, I don't know.

I really liked the imagery you provided, but I still fail to understand what cars/trucks have to do with keeping secrets. However I did really like this line:

A secret kept safe by metal;

aluminum that can’t be bribed.


But I did like this very much. Props.




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Mon Dec 29, 2008 6:14 am
Juniper wrote a review...



Hey Via!


Good poem! You drew me in and didn't disappoint. It's halfway a bit hard to understand, but I'm tired at the moment, so when I "wake up" I'll probably ponder over this and find something worthwhile to say for it.

I didn't like the repetition of "secrets" much-- but then again, I never hear myself saying I like any repetition. I am such a picky person when it comes to poems.

'Twas sweet. I liked it alot. I will continue to fish for what this poem represents :D. If I can't find it, I will come running back to you begging you for it, haha.

Good job Canada, very nice.

I give it a 10/10

June ;)





Irrigation of the land with seawater desalinated by fusion power is ancient. It's called 'rain'.
— Michael McClary