Expected a poem called "Scraps." But I'm much more delighted with what I find here. Various little morsels of JM that didn't quite make it to PIP. Kinda like when a musical artist gets blocked up and releases a compilation of "previously unreleased" works.
Okay, opening the preview box and reading them right now. (this is what I always do)
First off, these are scraps, so I'll give you the non-critique version and the critique version of the reply, 'cause I know you might not want critiques on these.
WOW! I'm speechless! You blow me away! JUST WOW
Okay, now the critique. Hope you liked that.
Anyone know the number to
Wasn't he the one that gave
the tin man a heart?
Is there a doctor in the house?
I need a bypass.
You see, I left my heart back
there on the beach and now I have
to learn how to live without it.
Wizard made me think of a brand name, 'cause it's capitalized. That's just me though, no need to take that critically. I like seeing poetry started off with a question, which the poem itself either answers or elaborates (this poem doing the latter). The only problem I have is how short it is. The introduction is a bit disproportionate to the follow-up... kind of like seeing a person whose head is as big as his torso. Freaky eh?
The tone that you end on isn't to my liking. You ask a question and close the poem with the "you see..." that comes afterwards. It doesn't seem to end on a period... more like the person just stopped talking altogether. Or you stopped writing altogether. Who knows.
Just saying it aloud to myself makes me think it needs one sentence after the last one, just so it has an ending tone instead of ending on a side-note to a question posed earlier in the stanza.
In a game of poetic word play came the query,
"Define yourself in one word?"
That's me "in a word."
The proverbial "lonely in a crowd."
I cant ever remember a time
that I haven't felt owned by it.
How ironic now
comes this realization ...
In a lifetime of feeling unrequited,
left behind ... on my own,
(now putting into words what my
heart has always known)
If I cant be with you ...
I'd rather be alone.
It's ironic that you are alone, but you also want to be alone? Isn't that just convenient? Okay there, Alanis.
Just teasing. You know I do that.
I do understand what you mean by mentioning this is irony... that what keeps you weighted is the fact that you are so alone, and in light of this, the only alternative to this one person you address at the end IS complete solitude. Almost contradictory... just almost.
I've rephrased my comment on the content to your poem so many times that I'm just going to say forget it. This was written months ago and I'm not going to bring you back to unpleasant feelings just so I can pat you on the back.
If one could actually die
from loneliness ...
I'd of been gone a long time ago.
As the years go by
I've come to realise ...
lonely is just another word
for dying slow.
You mean, "I'd have been gone a long time ago?" Yeah I'm an evil jerk. I just love pointing that one out.
Now I'm actually going to read the poem. Hold on a second.
Lonely is just another word for dying slow... I actually really like this, saying you would have died but you can't die of loneliness, and thus, the loneliness just makes you ache until you actually DO die. So loneliness just means, slow death. That's pretty powerful... but be patient.
I have to say I'm struck with how much of your scrap writing is about loneliness. I have scribblings too but I don't know about posting them... maybe I'll post a scraps thread after I reply to this... then again maybe not.
Too many people speak of "love" ...
they act like it comes for free.
Tonight I said I loved you
but you didn't answer me.
Another heart spent.
Oh I know what you mean about the first two lines, I know it big time... love is so burnt out nowadays, everyone thinks they fall in love when all they have is sex, an economic unit and a few TV shows they both like watching. Like you, I think love is a lot more rare than that. People don't like to think they're going to die without feeling love, but thinking that love is easily obtained is a step towards losing that chance forever.
I'm trying to connect the first two lines to the rest. I see the connection between "think it comes for free" and "another heart spent..." as if to say - no, it doesn't come for free, it is very taxing, and that's why it sucks to pay the full price of love and get nothing in return.
So, love isn't free, but it also doesn't come with a money-back guarantee. I'm going to think about that for a while now.
Thanks for the scraps, JM. I have to say, I didn't expect to enjoy reading these quite as much as I actually did... nothing personal, but most people's "scraps" usually don't have a lot of depth or value. You surprised me with the overall quality of these.
Just full of surprises, aren't ya, Moth girl? Well, keep 'em coming, my fellow arthropod.
It's amazing the effect ice can have on the world.