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Critical Analysis #1
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Friendship (warning: long!)
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Friendship (warning: long!) |
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Aegis Junior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 28 |
I apologize for the length, but maybe the story will make up for that. Just let me know.  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ..... And one December evening, it befell, as haunted stars shone like heaven, that the love I forgot since the sun set came like a thief from the clouds, and even the sun envied me that night. Know ye, that priceless treasure is near, so priceless, deeper than the deepest treasure on earth, ancient as wisdom, young as innocence, a miracle in a sad world as this, renown as friendship. And yea, my heart is cold and comfortless, yet leagues deeper than the deepest oceans, yet bluer than the old sky, and at this I stagger forever, for it is my namesake, my curse. But this starlit night, I was in a church, on Wednesday, for a social dinner, and the spaghetti was savory, the bread was good as home, the water as good as water gets, when I changed my plans for I am young, and subject to change,… instead of playing scrabble with the grown-ups, I told the younger kids, "Want to learn sign language?" "Yes!" shouted one of them, and I say, "Do you know the abc's?" One of them began with A, and I noticed she used her index finger for the D, not the second finger from the thumb. Her friend laughed, then she herself took off, running in circles after her friend…. in the sadness of my heart, I laughed… and I held a pen in my hand, while our conversations were restricted to paper. There were five young kids in the room, and each of them saw me as fascinating but only one or two would stop running to talk to me. Then one of them, younger than the others, came up to me and wrote, "What do you want for Christmas?" I laughed, and shook my heas as if unsure, then wrote, "Books, a lot of them!" Meanwhile, I thought, "Friends, a lot of them!" She wrote back, "Would you like a card with a boot drawing?" I wrote, "Yeah, that sounds like a very good idea! "She moved across from me, and covered the card. One of the other girls ran into a closet and hid, and her friend showed a disgusted face… I said, "What happened," using my voice, and she wrote, "She burped!" I wrote back, "She must've drank too much pop or something." She laughed hard, and I laughed also. Moments later, her friend in the closet came out, running after the girl talking to me, then ran back and grabbed the paper, trying hard to write something really fast, and the other girl says, "No!" The paper gets snatched from her hands, then she writes it again on another paper, because I asked what her friend did, and once again her friend says, "No! Don't show it to him!" And she hands the paper face-forward to me, and away walks her friend in tears, But never once do I look at the paper, never once do I laugh, instead, I look at her friend walking to the other side behind the bulletin boards, and sitting in a corner, immediately it strikes me, and I understand, for it dawns upon me, as her friend is crying, what the reason is… she likes me, and she's crying because of me! Her two friends laugh, and I ask, "Is she ok?" I walk to her and tell her, "I didn't look at the paper. I looked away." But no respond comes, and tears fall over her face, so I go back to the other side, and within my cold heart I feel sorrow, the paper still sits there, but no eye of mine betrays me, and her friends come after the paper, slamming it into the trash. Her sister sits to my right, still making the card, and once again I watch her two friends running, sometimes stopping to learn how to say something in sign language. For hands are my voices, for eyes are my ears, and my ears my memories, forever lost. Once again I walk to the other side and say, "I didn't look at it. I wouldn't. I was looking at you." And she stands up, walks to the other side where the others are playing and laughing. Her sister now sits across from me, still working on the surprise card, and she sits two chairs to my right, silent and still sad but no longer crying. I keep smiling , at her when she looks at me and the others, and in the voidness of memory, I remember myself in her place, but instead I was rejected and laughed at, by fifteen kids I knew… the space ball I got from NASA, and gave as a gift to this girl named Angela, even though the ball was precious to me and because I liked her more than it, rolled under the table towards me during lunch, its transparent blue-green lightness glowing faintly, bouncing higher than any ball, why did that ball have to roll towards me? I picked it up, and saw Angela laughing, the other kids were playing with it, so I gave it back to them, not wanting it anymore, and a wind of 10 degrees tore through the door, announcing recess, and the ball was thrown outside through the doorway, all this I saw with my tears, the loneliness and the cold sting, that stained my heart with madness. With a grateful smile, I look at her and understand, and outside, a boy knocks the window, holding a fistful of snow, laughing at the girls, when that girl jumps out of the chair, writing to me, "HIDE ME!" I say, "Ok! But where?" We hide behind a door, six of us, and I'm given a flashlight that doesn't work. The room is pitch-black, very dark, and sudden the door swings open, and the kids step out, but before long the boys come through the door, laughing at them, and the girls tell me, "Fight them!" I laugh, and say, "Ok!" They come in, and I hold my fists up, so the other boy does the same and we both laugh, because we know each other, and we both know we're just playing,… The younger girl comes up with my card, gives it to me and smiles sweetly, then all the kids run out the room and I'm left alone looking at the card… It says on the front, "Merry Christmas!" And four boots are drawn on the cover! "Gee this is cute," I think to myself, as I realize she has misspelled my name, the rest says: Dear Kayle! Merry Christmas! I hope you have a good Christmas. Do you think you will? God's blessing to you. To! Kayle from: Shelby games to play ---> On the back side, there are four tic-tac-toes, two hangmen games, a connect-the-dots game, and a comment saying, "sorry about the messups." Thinking to myself, I laugh at my name, because Kayle sounds like a girl's name, whereas my name is Kyle. I look at the card longer than I ever intended, for I never had such a wonderful Christmas present in the history of my life. I walk to the dining room, where my step-father sees me and signs, "Are you ready to go?" I say, "Yes, but where are they?" The outside door opens, and the girls come in, and I wave my hands, signalling good-bye. They wave back at me, and run back outside, then my step-dad and I go outside to the car & I see the girls getting into a car, then the one who sat alone in the corner earlier turned and walked to me and hugged me, while everyone watched and smiled. And one December evening, it befell, as haunted stars shone like heaven, that the love I forgot since the sun set came like a thief from the clouds, more priceless than snow, more lovely than spring, and golden above all treasures, a gift called friendship. I looked at the stars gleaming like the waters, and on the ground I laid, looking upwards at the stellar skies-- black as darkness in the forest, clear as water, aching as memories! |
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| © Copyright 1999 Aegis - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Willem Member
since 1999-11-18
Posts 139Inverness, FL, USA |
Kyle: My first response to this story was, why didn't he just write it in prose, it would have more natural and probably just as interesting. But I soon changed my mind. As a poem, in spite of its length, it flows better, the individual scenes come to life more vividly, almost as in a slide show. And how convincingly did it describe the mood swings among the different personae! My male pride seldom allows me to cry, but this poem really made me shed a few tears... With such a message to listen to, who cares about format? Free poetry is free poetry. Willem |
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poetry_kills Senior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 549new orleans |
aegis ~ i like the story, and i dont mind the length at all... the only thing that i found a bit disappointing was the digression from poetic language apart from the introduction and conclusion... it seems as though the work becomes more and more prose-like as you draw towards the center and then there is a sudden shift back to poetics at the conclusion... as a more personal note, i would like to see some internal (if not end) rhyme in the poem... nothing regular or rhythmic, just the occassional internal rhyme to give it more a feeling of poetry... that, of course, is just an opinion... overall i like it i have mixed feelings about the theme... i feel as though you should expound upon the idea of friendship in the story presented more, but at the same time i feel as though the story speaks louder than any analysis could... i'll leave that up to you to decide...sincerely, **jerome the boy with no brain |
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Aegis Junior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 28 |
OOPS! [This message has been edited by Aegis (edited 12-09-1999).] |
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Aegis Junior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 28 |
Willem: It made you shed tears? No kidding? Well, I am one to try new things, and this was written by me last night.. it took two hours to finish but I captured the heart of the story as best as I could. It wasn't mentioned much, but I was hoping that the reader could realize the friendships that were formed that night. For one, I taught sign language. One of these girls stopped long enough to learn a few things like linking verbs: am is are be being been was were ... vital to English usage. And that little girl made me a card, and gave me a sweet smile.. that was the second sign of friendship. The third, where I got a hug at the end from that little girl's sister who had been crying in the corner, that is the third even though I have no idea why she hugged me. Her friends must have convinced her that I didn't look at the paper..... I will never know what it said but when I wrote the poem, I found something unique to ponder: THREE THINGS THAT I PROBABLY WOULD NEVER SEE AN ADULT DO: Sit down from running around, to learn sign language. Write me a card with boots on the cover, and games on the back. Hug me for no reason that I know of, as if convinced by some mysterious force. Yeah, free poetry is free poetry, just as chemistry is chemistry.... it has to be thrown together, fumbled, and tried to see what works. P_K~ I haven't the vaguest notion what internal rhyme is, so can you emphasize that further? Knowing these poetry terms hasn't quite come by osmosis yet so ... it's up to you to teach me what you mean ... i-internal rhyme? Ah, you pointed out the middle was apart from the beginning and end but how do I write dialogue in a poem? I wanted the words exactly the same, exactly in place of the event order, and there were so many, many events that it would be an immense job to put all the events together in poetry form. I am a prose/storyteller/poet therefore the way I wrote poems can tend to be a swirl of all three, and I'm so glad that the length didn't interfere in any way of the enjoyment you experienced in reading it. And then again, I just came up with a thought - this is a drama poem... you know how drama scripts are written... how about letting it rest as a drama poem!? I'm being creative! |
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Aegis Junior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 28 |
I have to admit that I am kind of disappointed that more people didn't read this poem and share their thoughts with me on this subject. I have been depressed and I see poetry as an outlet for my emotions... Willem's comment was most gracious, but I just wish I could see that more people cared. |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
You gotta give us time. I do try to go back and see if I missed anything but I honestly don't have the time to comment on everything. The 'lack of comments' blues is a common affliction among us all -- yeah, I even get it and I probably get more comments per poem than anybody else. The other side of the coin is try to comment on as many poems as you can. Comments beget comments and when was the last time you commented on one of mine. I'll be back (imagine Arnold), Brad |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
Okay, I'm back. The first thing I would say is that I liked the middle part much better than the beginning and the middle: you were showing us what was happening and I thought that worked very well. Yes, I thought the poem was too long but primarily because of the overly 'poetic' usage at the beginning and the end. Actually, the middle part could do with some pruning as well. You can use dialogue in a poem the same way you can in prose. I have an unfinished poem that is nothing but a dialogue (one of these days I'll finish it). Auden said poetry was 'memorable speech' and that's all that matters these days. It may change of course but free verse is the norm not the fringe and has been for at least the last fifty years. Obviously, I think this is a strong poem but as I've already said, I think there is a lot of pruning to be done. While you can write poetry any which way you want these days, I usually ready it a bit differently than I read prose. I pause over words and phrases, I work with the piece, I try to let the words do something for me in a way that I would never do in a normal prose piece (Toni Morrison and Thomas Pynchon are two exceptions to this rule). The length of the piece gets in the way of that experience. For example: The outside door opens, and the girls come in, and I wave my hands, signalling good-bye. --do we really need to know that you mean 'goodbye'; it's obvious or soon will be obvious. Also, I think the 'and' here is not really necessary. They wave back at me, and run back outside, then my step-dad and I go outside to the car & I see the girls getting into a car, --the use of 'cars' here seems a bit tedious. Why not tighten up this image? then the one who sat alone in the corner earlier turned and walked to me and hugged me, Believe it or not, here is where I would end the poem. I think this single image carries more weight than all the rest of the description. It does seem you wanted to bring things full circle but I don't think that's necessary. I'm a sucker for this type of ending by the way because I think it suggests more than you could actually explain. You mentioned you wanted to stress the friendship aspect of this scene but what can do that better than a hug? As I've already said I think this is a very powerful moment and I'm glad you shared it. Brad |
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Aegis Junior Member
since 1999-12-04
Posts 28 |
Hi Brad, I realize that I am running really late commenting back on what you said to me about this.... I'm grateful. But recently I got very busy so I was online only up to 30 min/day......... I'm sorry but thanks!! Even right now I don't have the time.. It's almost my bedtime really.. I've printed a copy of what you told me I could've done about the poem -- and as I looked at the poem, I totally agreed with you about ending at where she hugs me... I just didn't see that one!! After all what am I doing in the Critical Analysis section? I am sory I made the mistake of having a lack of comments blues , and I thank you for clarifying that for me. After all ... someday you'll get a comment from me in one of your posts. You do deserve it after all! Thanks, but I gotta run... |
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