You always hated
the rain; it knocked
you to the ground like
a leaf blowing in the
breeze, hanging from
a tree some sixty feet
up.
I hung there with you,
shivering and aching
for the reality of
once more kissing
the earth like
a sailor come home.
I hated the rain with
you, despised its
cool rejection of
the stains we made
together through love,
of the festival we
shared on the lawn,
knowing full well
that a storm was
gathering.
We fucked there, but
not for the mere sake
of fucking—we fucked
there for the sake of
proving to God that,
though sinners we were,
we could still bring us
back to Adam and Eve.
I remember to
act as Li-Young
did, but I do not
compare you to
the moon—you are
the sun lighting
what can be a
cold and forgetting
mind, shrouded
in cavern black.
I do not teach
you how to wrap
and eat a persimmon—
I show you chess,
how to mate a
king with two rooks,
but I know you
are not watching the
board, but rather, watching
me move the pieces.
You are blind, I’m
afraid—you shine,
but no rods pick
it up; you are colorful,
but your cones
cannot perceive this.
We still hang from
a branch, but whether
it exists in this world
is irrelevant; we are here
to stay
and see
who can hold on
the longest,
like a pair of monkeys
who have learned
man's abstractions.
Author notes
I was sitting at my college in between two of my classes and looked out the window at the woods that border the school, and thought this up pretty much on the spot.
Written January 31st, 2006
I believe my poetry is wonderful and this poem is something I am truly proud of. This entry has never won a gold medal before and if at the time of judging it has mysteriously won a gold, I understand it will be automatically disqualified. I also understand that my poem could be in for an absolute bollocking but no matter what is said, I will not complain to the moderators. This poem is exempt, for the sake of brutally honest comments, from policy 2 – “Comments should be diplomatic. Please attempt to make negative comments constructive and gentle”. – because if the judges hate my poem, they will tell me in their own words why they thought it sucked.
(On an added note: I hope I *do* get chewed out for this, because I swear I've been getting too many people telling me how great my poems are when, in reality, they're shit.)
In a list
Comments
1 - 45 of 45
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I like the first three stanzas. The rest, not so much. I was a bit shocked by your sudden use of profanity lol. Not because there's anything wrong with it just because it didnt seem to match with the first three stanza's that I so fell in love with.
Are you sure you're not a masochist? Because if you enjoy comments like the one Cvillelisa gave you well then I'm not so sure.
Speaking of her comments I think I have to disagree with a lot of it. I'm going to defend you. I actually like your pronoun choice. What's wrong with having you speak to the subject of your poem specifically? What's wrong with using the past tense? Why must everything be in the present or future? The past is important. And I surely can't speak for everyone, but I definately was not befuddled by your imagery. I think it came out quite nicely, actually. Lastly, I dont think you have to be so specific in your imagery. If you don't want to, then you definately don't need to tell us if the rain, or wind, or whatever it was, knocked her down. I don't think that's just focusing on something unimportant, personally. The point is, she was knocked down. Besides, poems dont have to be so descriptive, do they? I love it when writers give me the chance to use some of my brain power, and leave a little bit to mystery. I think that's what gives poetry it's charm.
I really dont care for the rest of the poem. I hope that's not mean, just me being honest. So I give my applause for the beginning. Well done. And you definately ARE a good writer
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I'm glad you liked those first three stanzas; the majority of this poem literally was written within ten minutes and I didn't really change much of what was written afterwards, so it's nice to see that spur-of-the-moment stuff still looks good.
And no, I'm not a masochist, though I have a friend who is.
It's just that I don't get the sort of honest feedback for most of my poems that I want, so I'll take what I get. Most of the feedback I get is positive, though I like to see someone rip into one of my pieces if they feel it necessary.
I'm curious though: why didn't you like the rest? I don't mind; just curious. -
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I didn't like the rest because I couldn't identify with the poem anymore. I think after those three stanzas your words just didnt effect me in the same way. They were more for a personal audience, I think, than just any ol' random person (that'd be me) looking for a good read. I guess I just didn't get it.
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Well, here ya go ....
You always hated
the rain; it knocked
you to the ground like
a leaf blowing in the
breeze, hanging from
a tree some sixty feet
up.
You? Are you talking to me? I don't hate the rain.
Am I knocked to the ground? Am I a leaf blowing in the wind?
Am I hanging from a tree some sixty feet up? Does the rain knock her down or does the breeze knock her down? And if she is knocked down, what is she still doing hanging some sixty feet up when we end that stanza??? Argh. Straighten
out that image. It is a mess and your second stanza “hangs” on it. I “know” what you are trying to say – but really look at that stanza, do the words paint a precise picture?
Potentially you could also think about a different pronoun or even a real first name.
Think about providing an experience not reporting. If she always hated it
she must still hate it? Past tense sometimes drags things to the level of old news but that is a personal opinion only.
Example:
Jasmine hates
the rain;
She hates
the rain;
All that was generated from Stanza 1 alone.
And the rest is well, awful mostly. The mention of Li Po was about the only thing that pricked my interest. What is it you are trying to say with this poem anyway? That boo hoo you lost your girl? You've reached some level of distance in your relationship? What? How should any of this interest ME? Your READER? This poem is too sentimental and scattered. Detach yourself and concentrate on the girl who hates rain. Make me like her or dislike her – without getting in the way.
Let people tell you you are good but Christ don't believe them for a minute. THAT is when you should start worrying about writing, when you start believing most of the crap people say around here.
Had I the time, I'd continue to rip this apart and perhaps I'll come back after I get done reading the rest of the dreck in this contest.
Love ya,
Lisa
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Now THAT was the type of comment I was hoping for (I'm not being sarcastic either). You brought up a lot of points, none of which I'd given any thought to because I'd never realized how my poem tends to conflict with itself, so-to-speak. I can't thank you enough for shedding light on its abysmal contradictions; I'll see how I can go about correcting them.
(None of that was meant to be sarcastic; I truly loved your comment).
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Do my eyes deceive me? How refreshing.
Desiree
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It has potential.
I do this, you do that, bla bla bla. There is a lot of good in this poem, but it gets lost in the rather off-putting melodrama that seems to go on and on
and on.
Filter it. -
If it was the japanese drink we'd be better off
But not bad. -
This is good- being a demanding bastard I would have liked it to be better but it is very good nonetheless. And to put that statement into some sort of perspective, apart only two other entries, it is a fucking highway ahead of the others I have read thus far. For starters it is actually poetry and not some plonky bit of bullshit I have be subjected to like a tortured lab rat. There are some lines, images and metaphors in this that are great.
I show you chess, how to mate a king with two rooks,
I love shit like that, it makes my day. And then there is this gem
I hung there with you, shivering and aching for the reality of once more kissing the earth like a sailor come home.
Whoever wrote this actually thinks poetically rather than showing up at the OK Corral ready for battle with a cold sausage in one hand and a paper dart in the other. However, it could still stand an edit but it could also stand a round of applause because it has just saved my soul from a literary numbness that was befalling me. Thank you this is good work from someone who obviously likes and tries to understand poetry as an art form.
David
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Thank you my friend. When I first wrote it, it took me about half an hour or so and it's one of my personal favorites. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, as I know you're probably getting skull-fucked again with bad entries, I'd greatly appreciate it if you could give me a run-down of where those edits could be used. I've always been curious about how I can improve this and would like the chance to know where improvements could be made. Thanks!
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This is a wonderfully done piece. It seduces you as you read it, taking you there. Bravo!
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Fucking shit, this is good.
Savor this moment, because it almost never happens. Here is my critique in its full glory: Fucking shit, this is good. -
Thought this up pretty brilliantly of course. I love that first stanza. And the whole gut of it all. I wish I could just stare out of my college and get my mind to work. It's just a load of spiderwebs if you ask me. But now you... you're someone to be jealous of. So let me be jealous of you. Great work.
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Why, thank you.
Let's just hope Axelle agrees with that.
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There is almost nothing I could say about this that hasn't been said except maybe for the fact that of all the entries...
this had to be the single most inspiring.
Thank you for an extraordinary read. -
my own tastes in poetry is when the words inflict emotions, paint pictures in my minds eye. you succeeded in this brilliantly, thank you .... another gem in my memory now
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this piece is extremily beautiful. I liked the flow and the tone and the overall subject of the poem.
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Nice job on this I guess; it wasn't particularly my type i think because of the stanza:
""We fucked there, but
not for the mere sake
of fucking—we fucked
there for the sake of
proving to God that,
though sinners we were,
we could still bring us
back to Adam and Eve."
I just didn't like that, however I will admit that you have some heck of talent for writing, and I@ll make sure to check out more of your works - see if they are more my style.
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"every phrase and stanza is almost mathematical in it's placing" -- I've been told I'm too analytical about things; perhaps this is an indication of that.
Good comment; thank you. -
"I show you chess,
how to mate a
king with two queens,
but I know you
are not watching the
board, but rather, watching
me move the pieces."
I really liked this section. I really liked the whole poem. Raw and brutally honest, but at the same time almost delicate - with the occasional "outburst".
When it comes down to is that it's incredably well written, every phrase and stanza is almost mathematical in it's placing - but at the same time free-flowing.
(As I'm sensing this critique is gettign a little air-headed and reperitive, I'll stop, lol)
=> Jess Black
Edited on Feb 19, 1:02 because ''. -
Great
I love this its romantic sensual and innocent at the same time wow. -
Psshh, told ya I wouldn't win.
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"I remember to
act as Li-Young"
liked those lines..
interesting write. I likee it.
Nick -
Ack. I surrender. There's no way my poor little 'Luna' will place anywhere near this magnificance.
*is speechless* -
This stanza is just sheer genius and I love it when that happens.
"We fucked there, but
not for the mere sake
of fucking—we fucked
there for the sake of
proving to God that,
though sinners we were,
we could still bring us
back to Adam and Eve."
Terrific poem. Good luck in the contest.
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You know, in ancient times, people used to eat the brains and hearts of their enemies so, they thought, they could gain their intelligence and bravery. lol
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And I believe you are far too generous with your words. lol
Thanks though; maybe in another fifty years or so, I can get my stuff compared to Plath's, or yours, or Darcy's, or whatever.
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I do believe this is the most romantic I've ever read from you, and it puts me to shame. You've reached a plateau with this piece, no doubt about it. The lines about Adam and Eve, and the two following stanzas were totally breathless, and I felt PART of the scene you were painting here. I've always liked your poetry, but you've stepped it up a notch (or five) with this one.
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I am inspired by this, but I am also fearful that my muse is nowhere near as brilliant as yours...wonderful lines throughout, like eating a chocolate bar with nuts, each bite better than the last
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LOVED IT!!!!!
i loved it!
the emotion just seemed to spill out... very raw and very well writen!
i hope to see you win!
x infinity!
...:ape:... -
Lol, nah; I imagine someone else will win.
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2 snaps in a circle!!!
I liked this poem. The imagery is fire! Your use of darkness and light even in the spiritual was awesome! -
wow..nice write. it flows with emotion.
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Excellent
You deserve to win this one. -
And now I FINISHED my poem, and man is it a doozy. Thanks though, for the directly indirect inspiration
.
You're living proof as well.
Ugh, my brain hurts. I need water.
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Being is one of the things contemporary writers attempt to capture, knowing full well that they probably won't be able to. Still, they try, and you're living proof of it.
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Now, you are.
Wow, can I just say wow?
I have this idea for a poem in my head, and you made it explode with this. How much of this did I want to say at some point in my life? Here, I'll ellaborate.
aching for the reality of once more kissing the earth like
a sailor come home <---yup, that.
for the sake of proving to God that, though sinners we were,
we could still bring us back to Adam and Eve <---I wanted that.
You are blind, I’m afraid—you shine, but no rods pick it up; you are colorful, but your cones cannot perceive this <---and this sounds like something someone said to me. How creepy.
we are here to stay and see who can hold on the longest <----and that is what I feel like right now, like I am in this battle of wills and no way am I ever going to back down. Makes letting go of things v. complex. And healing always takes time, but you can't heal as you're dangling. Dangling over the abyss that screams NO! and all that you (I) are (am) is YES!. Ugh, life is more hard now.
And this was more...I don't even know!! Amazing. But I really, really think so. You brought up the bar, and now I totally got my leg stuck on it. I hate track
.
Anyways, just...!!!!!!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeekk!!!
This is why you are!! To do this, and live and stuff .
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Eh, well, I try...
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You know, I think you should just grab a good chunk of your comments and make a poem from them; even your comments are poetry! Oy...I can't compete with that. lol
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I do not teach
you how to wrap
and eat a persimmon—
I show you chess,
how to mate a
king with two queens,
but I know you
are not watching the
board, but rather, watching
me move the pieces.
Damn me, but this was fuckin' hardcore excellent, kiddo! Fantastic imagery combined with a muted intensity that smoked rather than flamed, this had me like a two-bit whore, ginned up and tied up by pink leather straps...lol. This shined... -
this is brilliant
it read so smoothly and was filled with lasting images
excellent
Peace Muddy -
wow, awesome use of metaphors. I totally had to read that again. so much illiteration with your words. Very musical and mix all those words with such a raw word as fuck, man that is just pure poetry, no pun intended, Thanks for sharing
God bless
Tammy -
Fantastic use of mataphors...I especially liked the use of rods and cones...not a whole lot of folks know much about the eyes and what allows us to see darkness and light, color and the lack there of. I really enjoyed this peice!
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This is just beautiful! Great imagery, and it flows well.
I hated the rain with
you, despised its
cool rejection of
the stains we made
together through love,
of the festival we
shared on the lawn,
knowing full well
that a storm was
gathering.
I like this part best, I can feel the emotion. You write well I'll have to check out more of your work. Good luck in the contest!
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I show you chess,
how to mate a
king with two queens
for some reason, i get the impression you are really not talking about chess here. this is good imagery through out the entire write. viyanna langager
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