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svandersaar
Junior Member
since 2001-01-15
Posts 40


0 posted 2001-04-07 12:09 PM


A single tear: idiot symbolism.
I am looking somewhere between the blank screen
and my hands – which are catching all the
questions tumbling from my heart, open as well.
Looking somewhere between.
Which is not AT the desk, but beyond,
prying at the space of solids, asking them to bend inwards:
breaking the thin, even film of physical dimensions
spreading them out from a razor slit exact as the edge of water.
Exposing…
Answers?
Release from pain, masochism, or questions?
I am trying to think objectively, or around destructive reflection.
I refuse to wallow.

From the nascent beginning I was his whole.
He needed me before I was even in his hands.
All he was looking for, all his life.
And now, still,
whispers of children and ‘soon’.
Promises meant to be kept.
Promises I know are not empty.
After three months.

How to explain our difference?
One week after ‘hello’
and I am folding his shirts
and putting them away in our shared dresser.
One month
and I am depositing my checks into his account.
Something that other relationships waited years for, but never received.
The aura of marriage subsumed us -- in the space of weeks --
that refused to cover any of our previous affairs.
At night
the settling house,
the wind outside,
washes harder into my heart the idea of ‘togetherness’
this rightness recognized by us and all those around us.

How can I deny love apart from nearly every love I’ve ever known?
And He
blends my face in with his fingertips
blesses this with his sighs and tears
with his words of comparison
telling me
never
  never
has anyone equaled.
Everything before NOW
was less to a miraculous degree.
I taste the victory with indulgence, and bitterness.

She entered his life, made him feel for once, and he gave all.
All.
And her deception, betrayal, and then desertion: death for years afterwards.
And death still, of that last piece of his heart meant for living.
Which needs, (he swears will always need)
to be kept sealed against the very wall of his core: untouched, uncultivated,
at least alive
and out of the possibility of destruction.
He can’t face death again.

So I smooth over his brow and whisper back of children, of forever and ‘soon’.
And he tells me as though it won’t cause some small death of my own,
that I am more than anything ever has been.
But I can
never
  never
have all of him.
He wishes it would have been me there in her place,
because… because he knows I would never…
I would never.
I take the victory and taste it, bitter and cutting.
He can’t take the chance now
despite his faith,
despite my preposterous ‘more’ of three months
against the strange reflective bland of her three years,
despite smiles and preemptive proposals,
discussions of discipline and learning for our daughters (names already picked)
because I missed that damned "naiveté"
four years ago, that let him
open his soul.
An accident of TIME and he lets it rule over love.

Damn me for thinking, for feeling, for hating circumstance and wanting blame.
Questions slowly cease to fall into my hands, ache instead swells outward and touches
the tender trembling palms… inside, a single tear.

[This message has been edited by svandersaar (edited 04-07-2001).]

© Copyright 2001 Stacey Vandersaar - All Rights Reserved
Krawdad
Member Elite
since 2001-01-03
Posts 2597

1 posted 2001-04-07 05:48 PM


Again I'm caught up in one of your stories!
Fascinating!  
Enjoying what you do!

Krawdad

/:-}==
=#===

Severn
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704

2 posted 2001-04-07 06:59 PM


WOW!

This is incredible...into the library it goes...

I notice you don't have the critique flag checked - which is kind of a pity because I would love to discuss this with you in more depth...

wonderful poem...

K

All obscurity starts with a danger:
Your dangers are many. I
Cannot look much but your form suffers
Some strange injury
Sylvia Plath

Dark Angel
Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095

3 posted 2001-04-07 07:22 PM


Oh Lordy this is magnificent, how I crave to read poetry like this.
Please keep writing and I'll keep reading  

looking out for you  

Maree


Love which is not always springing is always dying.

Kahlil Gibran

[This message has been edited by Dark Angel (edited 04-08-2001).]

coyote
Senior Member
since 2001-03-17
Posts 1077

4 posted 2001-04-07 08:12 PM


How I loved this reading.
The flow of human thought and feeling is so very classic and discernible, for we have all been to this well.
Thanks.  

"I hate quotes, they suck!"
I.G. Norance

Jamie
Member Elite
since 2000-06-26
Posts 3168
Blue Heaven
5 posted 2001-04-07 11:14 PM


Well done,, a nice tumbling story without any bumps...

There is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar.
byron

Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley
6 posted 2001-04-08 08:17 PM


Wonderful!!!!!
svandersaar
Junior Member
since 2001-01-15
Posts 40

7 posted 2001-04-08 09:02 PM


Krawdad, Hey, cool! Nice to see you around again.  

Severn, Thanks! And you can discuss anything you want with me. What's a critique flag?

Maree, Sounds like a deal! Thanks a bunch!

coyote, I'm glad you liked it!

Jamie, sounds like you had a nice trip.  

Poet Devine, Thank You!!!  

Stacey

Severn
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704

8 posted 2001-04-08 10:52 PM


I see you have found it!

LOL...I'm short on time but when I have some I'll be back to this remarkable poem...

K

All obscurity starts with a danger:
Your dangers are many. I
Cannot look much but your form suffers
Some strange injury
Sylvia Plath

svandersaar
Junior Member
since 2001-01-15
Posts 40

9 posted 2001-04-09 12:17 PM


I did! Your comment made me curious, and I did a search. Thanks, Severn!     <--- something else I found: 'Smilies'! These are so cool!
Stacey

[This message has been edited by svandersaar (edited 04-09-2001).]

mirror man
Senior Member
since 2001-01-08
Posts 814

10 posted 2001-04-09 02:48 AM


Yes, very good.  
svandersaar
Junior Member
since 2001-01-15
Posts 40

11 posted 2001-04-09 02:47 PM


Thanks, mirror man!
Stacey

Severn
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704

12 posted 2001-04-10 09:42 AM


Well, I have found some time (and when else but in the middle of the night lol)... This poem so enthralled me that I'd like to treat it as if it was in the Critical Analysis forum - because it deserves an indepth look in my opinion AND I haven't gone on a good poetical rant for AGES lol...warning this will be LOOOOOOOOOONG…

Firstly - the poem over all...it's a stunner. It's written with such an aching observation that I as a reader felt myself completely included in the situation. That doesn't happen to me a lot. You have excellent word choice, descriptions and line lengths in most places.

I feel that to increase the weight of the effect you could edit some parts of it that are perhaps needlessly repetitive or overstate the emotion. I've often found that narrative poems like these are best treated as akin to prose - ie, the poet creates the frame for the reader and lets the reader fill in the picture. So - in your case, some lines overfill the frame a little.

Now I'll focus on one verse at a time..              


quote:
A single tear: idiot symbolism.
I am looking somewhere between the blank screen
and my hands – which are catching all the
questions tumbling from my heart, open as well.
Looking somewhere between.
Which is not AT the desk, but beyond,
prying at the space of solids, asking them to bend inwards:
breaking the thin, even film of physical dimensions
spreading them out from a razor slit exact as the edge of water.
Exposing…
Answers?
Release from pain, masochism, or questions?
I am trying to think objectively, or around destructive reflection.
I refuse to wallow.


I adore the first line. Wow. The kind of line I think 'damn, I wish that was mine.'
The next line…I have a big suggestion here that relates to the whole poem. It’s to do with technique – I’m thinking that instead of saying ‘ I am ‘ how about just saying ‘I’m’? In line 6 you could have ‘Which isn’t’ instead of ‘Which is not’ Now I understand the technique here…how omitting contractions slows down the pace and adds gravity and maybe sounds ‘more’ poetic. But often contractions serve to set a tone in a piece. This poem is like seeing into a private mental dialogue of the subject – and I feel that realistic ‘everyday’ language like contractions would aid that.

Line’s 3 and 4 I love. I was wondering about dropping ‘all the’ from the ‘all the questions’ and just having:

‘and my hands – which are catching
questions tumbling from my heart, open as well.’

I just think it flows a bit more..
‘Looking somewhere between.
Which is not AT the desk, but beyond,

I’m not sure the ‘Which’ is grammatically correct when placed after a fullstop/period…

‘prying at the space of solids, asking them to bend inwards:
breaking the thin, even film of physical dimensions’


I LOVE this…one thing…I wonder about the singular ‘film’ and ‘them’ next to the plural ‘dimensions’ … it doesn’t quite fit.  I could be confused but I thought the ‘them’ referred to the ‘space of solids’ which would mean it should be an ‘it.’

‘Exposing…
Answers?’

maybe:

‘Exposing…
answers?’’

‘Release from pain, masochism, or questions?
I am trying to think objectively, or around destructive reflection.
I refuse to wallow.’

Wonderful lines             (Just a perfect example of the contraction thing…’I’m trying to think…’etc.

Phew….


quote:
From the nascent beginning I was his whole.
He needed me before I was even in his hands.
All he was looking for, all his life.
And now, still,
whispers of children and ‘soon’.
Promises meant to be kept.
Promises I know are not empty.
After three months.


Nascent…WHAT a word…writer’s bliss…

I’m uncomfortable with the repetition of ‘his whole/his hands/his life’ at the end of the first three lines…I’m not sure what you could actually do instead of this…I might be inclined to drop the ‘his life’ completely.

I find the ‘after three months’ is repetitive – filling in the frame…I don’t think it’s important to the story and detracts from the impact of the previous line.

quote:
How to explain our difference?
One week after ‘hello’
and I am folding his shirts
and putting them away in our shared dresser.
One month
and I am depositing my checks into his account.
Something that other relationships waited years for, but never received.
The aura of marriage subsumed us -- in the space of weeks --
that refused to cover any of our previous affairs.
At night
the settling house,
the wind outside,
washes harder into my heart the idea of ‘togetherness’
this rightness recognized by us and all those around us.



This is wonderful narrative…
My suggestions are:

Changing “one week after ‘hello’ ”
to:

One week
after ‘hello’ and I am folding his shirts

Having the One week on a separate line creates a rhythm between it and the One month…

‘Something that other relationships waited years for, but never received.’

Perhaps you could take the ‘that’ out of this line? It tightens it up a bit..

‘The aura of marriage subsumed us -- in the space of weeks --’

Sigh…this line is superb.

‘At night
the settling house,
the wind outside,
washes harder into my heart the idea of ‘togetherness’
this rightness recognized by us and all those around us’

Only one minor suggestion for this lovely passage: take out the word ‘us’ at the end of the last line…it’s a bit awkward.


quote:
How can I deny love apart from nearly every love I’ve ever known?
And He
blends my face in with his fingertips
blesses this with his sighs and tears
with his words of comparison
telling me
never
  never
has anyone equaled.
Everything before NOW
was less to a miraculous degree.
I taste the victory with indulgence, and bitterness.


I think this is beautiful … and the format of never/never is great…I don’t care for capitalising the ‘He.’

The last three lines are exceptional…indulgence, and brilliance..sigh...such excellent images come from those words..

quote:
She entered his life, made him feel for once, and he gave all.
All.
And her deception, betrayal, and then desertion: death for years afterwards.
And death still, of that last piece of his heart meant for living.
Which needs, (he swears will always need)
to be kept sealed against the very wall of his core: untouched, uncultivated,
at least alive
and out of the possibility of destruction.
He can’t face death again.


‘And her deception, betrayal, and then desertion: death for years afterwards.
And death still, of that last piece of his heart meant for living.’

Wonderful!

Something I find awkward here are the middle two lines:

‘Which needs, (he swears will always need)
to be kept sealed against the very wall of his core: untouched, uncultivated’

Again there is the problem with the ‘which’ after the fullstop/period. But further to this I find the ‘to be’ as a verb a bit dry…

Also, the last line is repetitious again – overstating the meaning of the passage…

quote:
So I smooth over his brow and whisper back of children, of forever and ‘soon’.
And he tells me as though it won’t cause some small death of my own,
that I am more than anything ever has been.
But I can
never
  never
have all of him.
He wishes it would have been me there in her place,
because… because he knows I would never…
I would never.
I take the victory and taste it, bitter and cutting.
He can’t take the chance now
despite his faith,
despite my preposterous ‘more’ of three months
against the strange reflective bland of her three years,
despite smiles and preemptive proposals,
discussions of discipline and learning for our daughters (names already picked)
because I missed that damned "naiveté"
four years ago, that let him
open his soul.
An accident of TIME and he lets it rule over love.


The first section of this is brilliant I think…
In the second line the ‘would have’ is grammatically incorrect and a simple ‘had’ might be better.          
I would remove the ‘ I would never’ line. Again – it’s repetitious as the following line pretty much says it ‘I take the victory…’
Also preemptive needs to be ‘pre-emptive’

‘discussions of discipline and learning for our daughters (names already picked)’ this is such a great line!

I honestly would think of not full capitalising the word TIME. It interrupts the flow…


quote:
Damn me for thinking, for feeling, for hating circumstance and wanting blame.
Questions slowly cease to fall into my hands, ache instead swells outward and touches
the tender trembling palms… inside, a single tear.


Love the first line…it’s awesome.
I know that you have used ‘a single tear’  to link to the first line of the poem. However, the last two lines are again filling in the frame a bit too much. I really think that one line should stand alone..

Phew…longest critique I’ve done for a time…but it was great to critique such an interesting, enthralling poem.

I look forward to more of your work, thank you for the opportunity to critique.  

K



All obscurity starts with a danger:
Your dangers are many. I
Cannot look much but your form suffers
Some strange injury
Sylvia Plath



[This message has been edited by Severn (edited 04-10-2001).]

Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
13 posted 2001-04-10 06:15 PM


svandesaar,
wonderful narrative piece, enthralling. I liked the way you connected it with a tear.
write on
Kethry

Those of us who refuse to risk and grow get swallowed up by life.  Patty Hansen.



svandersaar
Junior Member
since 2001-01-15
Posts 40

14 posted 2001-04-19 03:38 PM


Thank you, Severn for the wonderful suggestions! I am now putting this in CA for more input.  

Kenthry, so glad you liked it! Thanks!

Stacey

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