Sorry, nothing intentionally silly was popping into my head, so here is this:
(An obscure Parody)
She used a pretend love-
as inspiration and obsession-
not to fuel the purpose of work-
but as a means-
to
feed
fantasy.
She understood that pretend love-
in its true guise was a way-
to keep her heart full-
and to create butterflies-
that flew-
in
her
stomach.
She imagined this pretend love-
as someone who understood-
that when she reached out through words-
She was extending her hand-
to hold his-
over
the
distance.
and,
She dissolved the pretend love-
when its usefulness-
had been dispensed to the pile-
of things once new-
and obsessed upon-
but
then
forgotten.
Author notes
Sorry for not doing the humor thing, I just wasn't feeling funny.
A time in my life that was a definite punctuation mark...before, during and after.
Including myself, there may be only two people, (and probably only me) that remembers the original that I parody. At the time it was the most important poem that I ever read...and later, though ironic, it became the most prophetic. Some definite moments of punctuated life.
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Comments
1 - 32 of 32
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You have described her so well, I believe that I've met her.
Now if you don't mind, I'd like to forget her. -
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Ah this is about 5 years old and was written when still sad. She was a fine lady, I don't think
she really meant it to turn out just as the poem implied, it just did. She could write pages of
my failures too, lol Thanks!
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?????
I recall something or other redux, but cannot track it down. The parody is lost on me. Pretend love, though, that is another affair....
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That is why I called it an obscure parody, lol. It's just a poem someone wrote for me.
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??????
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Reading this again, yes, I read it before, I still see lots of hurt and the woman you describe there seems to be (or have been) a little of a bitch kind. Hope it's about J and not M
Sorry for the crappy comment, have no inspiration to write poems nor comments
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There was nothing pretend about you. I promised you that you'd never read another negative word and I stick by
that. Unless of course you tick me off on something new. In fact now that my lists are done it's time to start removing
that insane January stuff. I'll keep a couple that I like as poems but the rest was unfair to you and frankly to me too.
I don't want that being a last image for either of us.
Welcome to the show. I have no desire to write either...umm, either...see what I mean.
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Hmmmm ... and just one more
to add to the collection of "A Tale of Horror" ... but I have to admit that your words get down to the 'quick' when trimming nails! Do we ever truly forget? I would be interested in knowing what the original was ... as storing of good fodder only last so long until it's replaced with more good fodder to feed a most hungry soul! (inotherwords - an old brain trying to work miracles!) j y
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A poem further punctuated by irony over time, a self fufilling prophecy in a sense of the original which is being parodied.
I can't get past the term "pretend love". I would like to see it in an innocence of form like two children playing house, one being the mother and the other the father. It's hard for me to phathom using love or in this case almost conjuring love for pure use or gain.
We all have those personal "aha" moments that punctuate our lives.
Great take on the prompt and thanks for giving me much to think about. Thanks for entering
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A painful truth is here, for when we are not content with who we are, we pretend to be who we desire. Perhaps it is an attempt to deceive ourselves more than others. We long to look in the mirror and see what we would wish to be. Sadly, that just removes us one more step from ourselves and leaves us with fears of being found out . . . further fueling the insecurity that prompted the pretense in the first place. Eventually, that house of cards has to fall and with it falls the weight of layers of lies.
Excellent write. You give the reader much to think about. The irony is that there is only one of each of us and we alone can best be who we are.
Tens
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I believe this is written below...
"It promises to be the stupidest thing I have ever written, and as you know, I've written some pretty stupid things in my time! "
You lied! I was expecting to be annoyed, dissapointed, left with that tired cliche of "oh no he didn't" mumbled across my lips...but NO, all I get is a really good poem. I can read those on oldpoetry.com. I'm really disapointed in you right now. I need some time to get over this..................................................................................................................................................................................................Okay, that's better. Well this is good... so... I'll be willing to overlook this particular breach of trust...just don't let it happen again, okay. lol
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..breathtaking..i raise my cup to you, Sir Yem..brava!
@-}--
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Thank you kindly.
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Well now, this is something to finally behold! I know nothing of the original you parody, so I look only at what these words say to me.
Actually, as I was first reading through, I read this as a writer, putting myself in "her" place and saying, yeah, I've done that. It works, it can be emotional, but it makes for good poetry.
But as I got into the third stanza I couldn't limit my interpretation like that. It could still apply, I suppose, but the level of emotion just seemed deeper than that. In fact, it was just kind of heartbreaking. I found myself really sad at how easily the dissolving came. It begs the question did the "love" know it was pretend, or only the "she." Or did SHE even know it was pretend. Sometimes when things are convenient we lie to ourselves or others. Not a good thing. You have to wonder what happened to his extended hand at the end.
I like the way the stanzas dwindled away like the pretend love did. The hyphens at the end of everything was a little odd. I assumed you meant a pause at each, so that each line reads almost as if it is being thought of right as it is spoken, a lot of short, related, but somewhat spurratic thoughts. Like some sort of pontification. Otherwise, those little nellies could be distracting.
Anywho, I am not the least disappointed at the lack of humor. I found the poem to reach pretty deep. It spoke to me personally, anyway.
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I'm sorry, I never saw this comment. I just logged into my evil twin and saw it.
Thank you for the wonderful comment...the hyphens were in the original and I kept the same format and tone. They are distracting. She was a good poet but a great story writer...one of the two best I've ever known.
But you ask some great questions, and I've asked myself them over the years. I think she knew she was looking for a fantasy...fell in love based on that fantasy and when she woke up to reality...who I really was (yeah, it's real) she dissolved it. It was quite quick and final...but of course it must have been brewing in her head for months...just I was too callous to notice.
Still, she was a wonderful lady and I remember that, not the hurt. That was all long ago and I hope she is well.
Yem who?
I'm Sir Ima Q!
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Very interesting...! Imagination and fantasies have great potential for harm when left unchecked.... That is not the writer's voice speaking, it is the voice of stark reality.
There's no need to apologize for not being funny, either. People that are never anything BUT funny can grow quite tiresome and seem rather shallow. Life isn't one big joke, and we are not realistic about how we deal with life if we never stop to ponder the serious or the sad moments. It's good to put those feelings down on paper, too; it's somewhat therapeutic!
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First, let it be noted, this is the first comment
about the poem now shown. Comments below
relate to the super-long-place-holding title
that once held its place.
_____________________________________________
No stonger punctuation than this,
a series of exclamations, closing
many descriptive phrases,
breath holding ellipses,
and closed with the black hole
that is a period.
No pretending, this is a dramatic telling. -
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Madam, everything imassee writes is comedy!
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Hmmmmm, if you say so....
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He speaks a lot of gibberish but I have to agree with him here!
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Good grief... there's no poem yet and I'm already laughing! Partly at the long-winded, smart-alec-y title, and partly at the string of comments you already have on this non-poem. I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it!
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I have more fun with comments than I do writing the poems. Thanks for adding another fun comment!
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Running in circles, anticipating...
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You can sit down, this won't be anything worth anticipating, lol I just want to annoy the judges.
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Your turn now---I am all puctuated, illustrated and posted to page!
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The irony, all I'm good for right now!
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Well, now, this is just what the world has been long waiting for! Can't wait to see it!
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Trust me, you can wait! lol It promises to be the stupidest thing I have ever written, and as you know, I've written some pretty stupid things in my time!
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Ah, well in that case, let me be the first to reserve my spot in line... I'd love to witness you making a fool of yourself!
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It'll be a short line. Most folk run miles away when they see me coming with a new poem! lol
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No worries, if it's bad enough, it will catch up with them.
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Good one! lol
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