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Open Poetry #20
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Horizons
| Open Poetry #20 |
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Horizons |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704
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What would I say tonight? That you reminded me of when my heart was wide open and young – if you could hear, without the locking in and the reflection of misery I even cried. Cried! He does it, and you, and the wishing of my past to catch up and let you chase me like a gorilla down that old street again There was a garage where I used to play, hung with vines and empty air. I remember the parking lot with only a few sad cars – that’s where my doll’s eye fell out and I think I might have cried then Can you remember Diane? She was my best friend: I know because I threw her toy dog on the ground, stamping my feet on the weeds. Seven years old – not too old to fear placing my head next to your heart in case it stopped When I tell you of my hopes I wonder if you listen. Perhaps you only remember the house and the man and the loss of yourself to those demons you heard coming up the path What of the beauty in this: Horizons and you’re free, you’re pioneered, you even dance in clouds with a twilight shawl and red wine There is no song for us, for all our lost days and trips to the shops and happy lunches with friends – there’s only the pang of distanced calls and the too loud tv where you exist Against the skyline I recall all of then. Huge, how I want to duck my head against your heart and feel it throbbing with life But I was asking you – what could I say? I recall that you were Mother, sister, friend and safety, then. Before it all went mad |
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| © Copyright 2002 Kamla Mahony - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Kamla When you write of her, you make the scene so vivid with who you were, then, now, still. I can feel you listening and I understand your fear. This is good writing for those pieces of you that you reveal. Hugs! |
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ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
I can appreciate the searching lines here, and the way that life changes everything. Such a wonderful and wide reaching write. ThisDiamond |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
A very different form of Horizon...how I have missed reading you...how good of you to come in tonight... |
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Duncan Member Ascendant
since 2001-08-07
Posts 5455 |
I even cried. Cried! He does it, and you, and the wishing of my past to catch up and let you chase me like a gorilla down that old street again It's the vulnerability that gets ya. Excellent write, I sit in awe. |
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NapalmsConstantlyConfused
since 2001-05-15
Posts 529 |
this is really good, i like  -Dave |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
Hi Severn  i have some spare time on my hands and i thought i would give you a no-holds-barred reply...just thought you would like to know how a reader feels completely What would I say tonight? That you reminded me of when my heart was wide open and young – if you could hear, without the locking in and the reflection of misery i am intrigued by the "tonight"..makes me sit up and wait for better things to come...it makes me think "okay, so what is it about tonight that makes it so special?" i went "huh" at the "reflection of misery"...mostly because i like to be told things and i felt this phrase was a little too abrupt...i mean, what misery? I even cried. Cried! He does it, and you, and the wishing of my past to catch up and let you chase me like a gorilla down that old street again i liked the metaphor...to me, it sounded tongue-in-cheek and hilarious...i smiled at the mental image of a gorilla chasing me a question though: just why would the author want his past to catch up on him? i didn't quite get that..i assumed that the author's heart was close(hence jaded)..why then the urge to confront(?) his past? There was a garage where I used to play, hung with vines and empty air. I remember the parking lot with only a few sad cars – that’s where my doll’s eye fell out and I think I might have cried then i am missing something crucial about the crying...can you enlighten me?  Can you remember Diane? She was my best friend: I know because I threw her toy dog on the ground, stamping my feet on the weeds. Seven years old – not too old to fear placing my head next to your heart in case it stopped i really liked the seven years old bit..it instantly brought me memories of when i was a young kid and was fascinated with the heartbeat...i used to place my hand occassionally on my friend's chest and marvel at the beauty of it all... When I tell you of my hopes I wonder if you listen. Perhaps you only remember the house and the man and the loss of yourself to those demons you heard coming up the path What of the beauty in this: Horizons and you’re free, you’re pioneered, you even dance in clouds with a twilight shawl and red wine liked that image, especially liked the word "pioneered"...i like to read of someone who seems to have a go-get-it attitude There is no song for us, for all our lost days and trips to the shops and happy lunches with friends – there’s only the pang of distanced calls and the too loud tv where you exist i liked this as well..i thought of awkward phone conversations in which the author and his mother had nothing much to say but sort of persisted on...i think the author might have a better understanding of the tv programs rather than his mother Against the skyline I recall all of then. Huge, how I want to duck my head against your heart and feel it throbbing with life But I was asking you – what could I say? I recall that you were Mother, sister, friend and safety, then. Before it all went mad the ending was abrupt for me...i went "huh" and asked "so what am i supposed to think?"..after reading this again, i came to the conclusion that his mother died...am i right in thinking so? a final question: i couldn't see any link between the intro("what would i say tonight?") and the ending("before it all went mad") you also know how much i admire you for painting life so down-to-earthly and humanely(i mean, some poems seem so stale and artificial..no life in them)...so i shall not repeat myself and bloat your ego... thanks for the chance to read and reply...and i guess i would thank you in advance for taking the time to explain all the bits i have grossly missed...  [This message has been edited by faterider (05-02-2002 12:06 AM).] |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
just to prove that i am a hardworking reader , hmmm, is the author the strong silent type that won't let his tears shed easily? hence, the emphasis on the moments when he couldn't hold it in and cried... |
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coyote Senior Member
since 2001-03-17
Posts 1077 |
The thing about horizons K, whether forward or backward, is they are ever changing stretches of the known/unknown, mirages just out of reach, creating themselves from a bidirectional history we can never let go of. As always,loved this one too. coyote |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
i will come back to this, you already know what i think. i just wanted to say two things: a) bravo for the critique faterider! good to see someone chasing it down in open forum! heh C [This message has been edited by Christopher (05-02-2002 03:27 AM).] |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
Martie - you're always so kind and supportive, and I appreciate you, and your words, very much. Thank you..for your reply, and for being there today and listening. Diamond - thank you so much. Life - and time, and growing up, changes things indeed... Mama K - nice to know I'm welcome Love ya, and thanks..Duncan - cheers. Your words about vulnerability are very appropriate, and the latter ones are very kind... Dave - Glad to oblige. Thank you...FR - Yay bounce! A critique! Yay...I get all excited over those...~rubbing hands~ Okies... First off...to make this understandable about why the 'tonight' leads..nowhere really. Currently, I'm experimenting with Postmodernism (shut UP C - I know you're sick of hearing about it). If you're not familiar with it, the part that I'm playing with in particular is the destruction (heh) of the classic 'parts' of a piece of writing - beginning, middle and end. This destruction can work in two ways: The linear nature of time, and the actual structure of prose/poetry. Because you have given me this amazing critique, I will confess that this piece is autobiographical. Because of that though, there are some things I don't want to delve into too deeply. So - forgive me if in some parts my response seems lacking. It was actually an afternoon when I spoke to my Mother. But I made it a tonight, when I thought about the conversation and how many tonights there have been when I haven't been able to talk to her as I once had been able to. The misery refers to my Mother's misery about her life. The author (me) would want his (her - me heh) life to catch up because then she could go back to how it was...when her Mother was healthy. Not a confrontment - a return, when things were simple, and understood through a child's simpler understanding - without that crashing in of adult concepts. Like peeling back the layers of an onion perhaps...to the core. (My Mum did chase me down the road like a gorilla...it was fun...she must have looked so silly hehe...) While a heart might be jaded - I'm sure it can remember what it was like not to be such. The crying - because it's a hard thing to do. The author doesn't cry much You were right, hard working reader heh.The heart part - I was too scared to put my head anywhere near her chest. It wasn't beautiful to me, it was threatening. Hmm..I like the way you have perceived pioneered, though that wasn't my intent. I meant pioneered as an escape from current reality. And the phone conversation. There is no awkwardness - only that...hm...not awkwardness at the lack of words - there are plenty - but the conversations can't be the same as they were anymore. For the record, my Mother hates tv and constantly asks for the other patients to turn it down (asks? I mean demands lol). I suppose there is a level of persistence - just, not through anything resembling a generation gap. (Heck - I can swear around this woman and she laughs...) The author's Mother is not dead...at least, not physically. Just very eccentric, and very unwell physically also. Now, the ending - has taken us right back to the past - when it went mad. When the author was seven. The Postmodern format for this poem - the beginning takes us nowhere, the end stretches back into the past, but sounds like the present (yet, there are hints through the poem that the 'before it went mad' does refer to the past). The middle leaps from past, to present, to an imaginery wish of the future ('horizons and you're free...' etc). That might explain your query about the lack of connection between the beginning and the end. But you did repeat yourself heh. Don't worry about my ego - it's firmly established LOL...j/k. I sincerely appreciate, and thank you, for your thorough read, and critique. It is a true gift to a writer - to be read through and through, and to be questioned and found in err. How can we grow if we are not pushed, and criticised? There's a website called Post Modern Short Fiction - and this is on the intro page: In our view, postmodern writing is typified by a somewhat de-centered style that doesn't attempt to give the reader everything that's needed for a complete picture. Reading this material often leaves one with the feeling of being pleasurably lost. The reader doesn't always know, for instance, where the story's characters came from or went -the quintessential postmodern effect of dislocation. With so many things undefined, there's more leeway for personal interpretation and elaboration than is the case with traditional logocentric narratives. (http://www.pixcentrix.co.uk/pomo/writing/writing.htm) That pretty much says it all. Coyote - so GOOD to see you around again..and YOU sound totally postmodern hahaha...smiles, and thankyou.. C - sniff. You did that on purpose. There's no B. You did that on purpose!! You HAD a B though didn't you - because you've edited (or maybe you made a mistake hah)..that's just..just...MEAN. Pout. (Will you tell me what the B was?) After reading that cool explanation of PM...do you think you're contemporary, or PM..mind you - you still have to find out if you're modern or not. laughing... Now, go away...I want a B.  K[This message has been edited by Severn (05-02-2002 08:26 AM).] |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
That was great. And sad. And hopeful. And lost. And everything at once. Thanks for the cool thoughts. |
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Dark Stranger Member Patricius
since 2001-03-19
Posts 13631West Coast |
it don't get any better than this view enjoyed it lady |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
I recognized the postmodern style right away. . . from the first line, in fact. . . noticing that there's a time, a place, and a feeling (or rather, many feelings) here. . . but yet, that they didn't fall into what would be considered "standard" places. . . too often, we try to put ourselves in the poem, rather than letting the poem take us where it wants us to go. . . this poem does that. . . it's a journey, a trip. . . one that doesn't start. . . and one that doesn't end. . . or, at least, doesn't end where we might think that it does. . . quote: I took this to mean that once the Horizon is reached (or should I say achieved?) then the speaker is changed. . . for better or for worse, in ways we can't begin to know or understand, unless we let the words show us, which they do. . . the ending just grabbed me. . . it's as if there's nothing else. . . but yet, there is something still there. . . something that remains, as always. . . because there is always something that remains. . . well, I don't know that I've made a lot of sense here. . .but, these are just my observations and feelings. . . hope that they're helpful. . . thanks for the opportunity. . . -------------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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Mistletoe Angel
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
"But I was asking you – what could I say? I recall that you were Mother, sister, friend and safety, then. Before it all went mad"  (big hugggsssssss) I think in some way we can all relate to this kind of anxiety we all face in relation to our friends and family, sweet friend, you speak of her so vividly and such compassion and sincerity shines from your quill here! (sigh) I hope that you and her will continue to share new horizons and levels of understanding together always, sweet friend, God Bless You, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Kamla, thank you for sharing!  May love and light always shine upon you! Love, Noah Eaton |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Interesting and substantial writing...James |
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vandana
since 1999-10-22
Posts 10463USA |
enjoy |
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Jamie Member Elite
since 2000-06-26
Posts 3168Blue Heaven |
I think you made all the right choices concerning the caps etc. quote: still my favourite part, as I swear the blood entering my heart must grow heavier and thicker when I read it. def into the lib JThere is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar. |
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Magnus
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135South Carolina, USA |
I must say that I have learned from this poem and the comments....I would also say that I felt the presence of a lot of feelings expressed and some repressed as well.. Enjoyed! |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
hi again i am a little apologetic for my ignorance and for the time you took to answer my queries but mostly i am relieved that i did ask...Many a time have i come across a poem and have to let it go because i didn't quite get the gist and didn't want to leave a "Wow, great job!" comment...it's very satisying to have all my questions answered, thus having a more complete understanding of the poem..Way Cool For instance, i initially assigned "reflection of misery" to the author, which was why i found it a tad forced...i couldnt justify it anywhere and i felt like the author was trying to force his self-perceived sufferings down my throat..heeheee...now that i realise that the "misery" is that of the mother, i don't feel that it is abrupt anymore Seven years old – not too old to fear placing my head next to your heart in case it stopped my eyebrows lifted at your explanation....i interpreted this the other way..i thought that the author wanted to go back to his childhood, because he wasn't burdened with the things that his adult persona knew and could listen to the heartbeat unreservedly pang of distanced calls when i read this, i leapt to the conclusion of awkward phone conversations...heh...again, i didn't realise that there can be other reasons for "distanced" i agree with John's critique about the ending...let me try to write by i understand about his comment..."before it all went mad" had a finality to it, like a "it's the end" pronouncement...at the same time though, there seemed to be some thing lingering in the air...i think i felt the discontentment of the author..like he was challenging me, the reader to prove to him that "nay, it didn't all go mad" because he was unsatisfied with his verdict and wanted to search for a better answer... hope i didn't just talk crap above.. and thank you for baring your soul, albeit partially...i admire that..i won't have the strength of mind to talk about myself in such a detached tone |
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kaile
since 2000-02-06
Posts 5146singapore |
er, the seven-year-old bit is my favourite, because of nostalgia reasons and now that i understand the background of this poem, i felt for the child who was afraid that his mother's heartbeat would stop while listening to it...it must have been a burden to carry around in his heart |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
I was going to do some good ripping... but faterider did such an excellent job, that i just want to reiterate my favorite/most painful line: quote: for what i know and what i don't. for you and for her - hugs l'il k. |
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Victoria
since 2000-08-12
Posts 5869 |
Loved it severn..i also had a best friend Dianne growing up and still friends with her after all these years..nicely done..hugss ~Victoria |
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