My high school English teacher was fond of telling us
"If you can’t figure out what a poem is about,
chances are it’s either about writing poetry
or sex, or both."
Frantic attempts to answer the
insatiable question nibbling away at us
syllable by syllable,
synapse by synapse,
as we play like toddlers in the dirt,
absorbed in the designs our fingers trace,
furrows shallower than footprints
and as short lived.
A sudden heavy hollowness in my
stomach as I plunge,
thrashing, trying to bury myself deeper,
coat myself in words and images,
awe and clarity.
Then, somewhere,
a child is torn into chunks of scorched flesh, mid-
step.
And my laughter turns to ash in my mouth.
Yet still tasting futility, I
sputter, choke it back, return helplessly,
willingly. A guilty pleasure
to be swallowed up in anything that can,
for a moment, become all that matters.
Author notes
randomly struck me one bleary morning during finals week.
been picking at it since, still not completely satisfied with it but figured it was time to let you guys rip into it. please let me know what you think! as always, all comments and constructive criticism welcomed!
(may 2008)
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I LOLed at the first stanza.
"syllable by syllable,
synapse by synapse, " awesome alliteration and ideas. I love the repetition.
Interesting reference to toddlers playing after you were just talking about poetry.
"heavy hollowness" - that's the most clever, best alliteration I've seen in a very long time. I love the antithesis here - hollowness is supposed to be the lightest... and yet, emotionally it can be the heaviest.
"coat myself in words and images" - isn't that what all us poetry-writers do?
I don't know if you care about my opinion, but I personally don't think the next line was necessary.
"Then, somewhere,
a child is torn into chunks of scorched flesh" - oh my gosh that's so... horrid and gripping... really makes me go back on it.
"And my laughter turns to ash in my mouth." - how scary and desolate... well-written image, again.
Very in-depth ending.
How come I haven't stumbled upon your poetry before? I love these.
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Every new poem from you is a major event....this is stunning.
So much ...from the simplicity of the first part...the beautiful way you express searching in the second(the putting down of every poet anywhere!)
and then the horror!
and then back to living in in all its glory.
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Yes, I think I understand. Willingly helpless you blanket yourself in the words; the footprints you leave in the dust.
Sometimes I think I may be just the words, or at least I am mostly the words. I wonder what part of me would exist without them.
This is an excellent poem. You are talented indeed.
Garrison
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Hey, I think that’s a hell of a poem. High school, man I taught high school, now I teach middle school, teachers tend to over simplify reality but somebody put you on a good path. They always see lovers in the marsh grass but they’re scared to get in the mud. I teach art and I tire of people spending so much time trying to figure out how to teach, fuck it! It’s art! We don’t have to explain every brush stroke, or comma as the case is. I really liked your poem.
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