The Perpetually Incriminating Uncertainess of Us
I don't know how to explain
how it is with you.
You say I confuse you
But I think in the act of confusing you,
in not being able to string the words
coherently, with concise meaning, precision,
I face the perpetual problem:
I incriminate myself.
...
It's almost hypnotic
in the sway of your eyes
and your hair that flips
almost if all of your features somehow connect
(disfigured by my jagged figure)
with your expectant lips.
...
The trace of your map,
the line of your trail
No longer exotic,
I've conquered the infamiliar,
made it my own
At the cost of your innocence,
I am guilty.
...
We are something
between thoughtfulness and despair
In a whirlwind
But not really blown anywhere
The eye of the hurricane
Maybe, not sure
...
And maybe I should put in even more thought
of how our vastness is really quite stupid
Because we're not something
But we're not nothing
What do you call the 'in-between'?
Putrid.
...
I've looked in dictionaries
and encyclopedias
But there is no word
in the middle of lust and love
only we can explain
what it means to be us.
...
You must be tired of explaining
of overlooking questioning glances
yet I know you'd rather have me
as your infamous canvas.
...
I must admit
(I'd be terribly wrong if I didn't)
I enjoy the skin on your hand
carresing my own
and I only become hesitant
when your fingers find mine
because that's usually the precedent
...
My words
both loving and cunning
Expressing two feelings
when neither of us can handle one
Of this I am sure
And I am sure of being sure
It's been a pledge
recited to memory, no longer so pure.
...
We've squeezed into a crevice
I'm not sure which is the cause
with my shortness of breath
No room to breathe?
Because I am with you?
...
We glorified uncertainness
Made it our own,
Trouble was beautiful
until the damned is really damned
Come to realize, it's an unneccesary evil
Chasing circles, going nowhere
I think they've written against that
in the Bible
...
Forgive me if this poem is rough,
the edges cut too sharp
The blunt shards I offer,
deified in your sympathetic mind
Adversity in it's natural condition
No dent created in an effort to mold
I've realized we've linked in existence
without the desire to please.
...
If we were to become something spoken
The words would be broken
Filled with static and disconnection
the slur of words, pretentious
Somewhat lacking contentment
Holding on to both joy and resentment.
...
There are plenty of things
I enjoy with you
I enjoy are you
I enjoy you
So there are many things to be enjoyed
...
And I enjoy them most in solitude
when there is me and you
but no one else in the world
we create our own image
Standards become blurred
But I know that you long
to become part of,
not just be a part.
not to scrounge on the edges,
of this predestined love.
...
This is our problem
we are shackled to each other
we are tied to the earth
and they tell us it is fate
We read romances of star crossed lovers
but the love we read of was denied,
not humiliated
with shades of burgundy and night black paint
touched by my angry brush
and not smothered
with your shy shades of periwinkle.
...
It's like a 10 second rush
Not quite a magnetic force
Like a swing of caffeine
but not the entire bottle
Half empty, half knowingly
our actions half, half, ha-.
...
It seems
everything is a 'but' or an 'if' or an 'or'
I come up with excuses
that fly from the tip of my tongue
Only silenced by your tongue,
when I taste the inevitable.
And only when it's us
does the maze feel exhilirating
the adventure not dooming
but completed
until we exit
and we're found in sad, open space again.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Hi. Welcome to the party.
Ok, so I almost didn't read this because of its length. Not that a really long poem is bad (in fact many of my favourite poems are over a thousand words long), but around these parts people tend to keep away from very long poems unless you're well-known and very good. Galerius wrote some true monsters and he was both well-known and very good, but that was well before your time. Just a thought.
Anyway. This poem lacks one thing, and has too much of another. The thing it lacks is imagery. Imagery is the heart and soul of modern poetry (by modern I mean the last 200 years or so). Imagery is what separates poetry from things that aren't poetry. Prose fiction might describe action, or characters, or whatever, but poetry describes a moment. The key to writing the sort of poetry that's important, the sort of poetry that really gets to people is describing a familiar moment (like the one you have here) in a way that is both unique to you and resounds with the reader. This is done primarily through imagery. You have to take something that only you understand and put it in terms everyone understands. You with me so far? You have some almost-great bits here. Hypnotic in stanza 2, tracing a map, whirlwinds and hurricanes, squeezing into crevices, fingers brushing on hands, a poem cutting like something sharp, and a few others. These are a good start. But the trick to a good image is accuracy and detail. Once you've introduced an image you have to expand it, develop it, explore it. For example: "Frost on the grass". Great, an image. "The first frost of August, crisp and glassy, on withered grass that hasn't seen rain since last I saw you". Now a developed image, describing the attributes of the frost and the grass, and connecting them to an emotion that the reader can relate to. Detail, accuracy, specificity. Try working these things into your images. Also, to make a poem more coherent and to communicate your point more efficiently try connecting your images. Have a running theme. Maybe all ocean images, or industrial, or all about mould, or something I don't know. But try to link three or four or more images together one after another to create a sense of depth. For example, after you introduce the idea of the body being a map and stuff maybe throw in a bunch of other wilderness images to tie it all together. Remember, detail, accuracy, specificity, efficiency. These things make effective imagery.
Speaking of efficiency, that brings me to the thing we have too much of; everything else. Poetry is about efficiency of language; communicating complex ideas in a concise manner. Like I said, this is done through relatable, complex imagery. Everything else is just wasted space. To immediately improve this poem (and every poem you write) go over it with a fine-toothed comb and mercilessly remove everything that isn't imagery, then remove every image that isn't 110% vital to the meaning of the poem. The poem will probably end up half or even a third of its current length, but what you are left with will be much stronger that what you currently have. Good luck.
K.
I really like this poem. I feel like it's very emotional and you have a strong main point to it, but I feel like there are a lot of unnecessary sentences that you could cut to make the poem more concise. Maybe revising each little verse to make it 4-5 lines apiece at the most? I think that you have a lot of excess here, and if you just found the repetitive places in the poem and cut them, it would have a lot more strength behind it.
Keep up the good work! Thanks for writing!
First of all i like the poem I think that you get a good point across. A few suggestions I would give are first, shorten it. You have a very long poem here and it can get repetitive. Here is when you would want to take into account the Quantity vs Quality rule. While you have a lot of excellent words that convey your story, when you overdo it the feeling of the piece gets lost on the reader and the meaning of it gets muddled. This brings me to my next suggestion. I think that your poem would greatly benefit if you were to give better descriptive words than more of them. For example, when you say
"It seems
everything is a 'but' or an 'if' or an 'or'
I come up with excuses
that fly from the tip of my tongue
Only silenced by your tongue,
when I taste the inevitable."
First you shouldn't have "it seems" and "everything is a 'but' or an 'if' or an 'or'" on two separate lines it would sound better if they were on one line. I think that if you were to say instead,
"It seems that everything is an 'if' 'and' or 'but'
I keep coming up with excuses that fly from the tip of my tongue
but they're all sliced by your tongue
and I am forced to taste the inevitable."
it looks shorter and evokes more feeling. Other than these few details I think it is a great start. I look forward to reading another one of your works. I hope you continue writing and I bid you good luck with your writing.
Thanks, your suggestions make a lot of sense! Can't wait to revise it now. Thank you!