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Anson Beau Cavell
Junior Member

since 2001-05-12

Posts 49
Ohio,US

0 posted 2001-05-29 12:44 PM

For fifty-three years
they were coupled to love.

Now he wanders room-to-room
filling them with thoughts of her.
His rambling whispers trail
discarded shards of pointlessness.

Now he makes the bed in broken sentences,
tracing her formless body on fitted sheets.
His questions fluffing pillows with no reply,
final shadows of what was severed.

Now her smells linger in the air,
a phantom itch prevailing in his mind.
His eyes, candles too wet to be lit again,
well their pain to stain his face.

Now in her absence he sits beneath
their only child, a twenty-two year old tree,
his place to be,
diffused in vapid light.

killed my Buddha, killed my Christ
Killed my karma, paid the price

For 27 years I've carried the welt
Wie kleine ist deinige Welt?

[This message has been edited by Anson Beau Cavell (edited 05-30-2001).]

Kurt Rhys
Junior Member

since 2001-05-08

Posts 23

1 posted 2001-05-29 11:30 AM

A true observation of the next to last interruption of a life (the last being death, of course), unambiguously told, metaphorically imaginative and fluid throughout.....a commendable composition,Mr. Cavell.

Joricho
Member

since 2001-05-06

Posts 56
Australia

2 posted 2001-05-29 09:46 PM

I thought this was superb - insightful and well-written. I particularly liked the structure - the two-line intro and then the four stanzas beginning "Now..."
Your bed-making and candle imagery are wonderful.
The only points I stumbled were with the phrase "too low to be heard" - seemed unnecessary to me. Also the word "phantom" - I think the phantom nature of the itch is implied well enough without making it explicit.
Hope that helps - I don't think this can be improved all that much!

Anson Beau Cavell
Junior Member

since 2001-05-12

Posts 49
Ohio,US

3 posted 2001-05-29 10:15 PM

Thank you Kurt and Joricho for your comments.

Joricho - I agree with your first comment
"I stumbled were with the phrase "too low to be heard"
and will clarify your second
"I think the phantom nature of the itch is implied well enough without making it explicit"

A phantom itch is a medical condition in which an amputee experiences an itch in a limb which is no longer present.
This is obviously very disconserting as there is no way to alleviate the itch.

I'm not sure if it matters that much or not but with those facts I would like some further input.

killed my Buddha, killed my Christ
Killed my karma, paid the price

For 27 years I've carried the welt
Wie klein ist Ihre Welt?

[This message has been edited by Anson Beau Cavell (edited 05-29-2001).]

hush
Senior Member

since 2001-05-27

Posts 1653
Ohio, USA

4 posted 2001-05-29 11:08 PM

For the most part, this is wonderful- I love the wording and imagery, especially
"Now he makes the bed in broken sentences,
tracing her formless body on fitted sheets."

My only problem was "His eyes, candles too wet to be lit again,
dripping hot wax to stain his face."

First of all (and this is just a stylistic observation) I got an image in my mind of wax stubs sticking out of his face, which was ludicrous. Also, if the candles are too wet to be lit again, how are they dripping hot wax? I got the impression the candles were out- and non-burning candles usually don't melt...

Other than that bump, I think you have a great poem. You did a really good job of portraying the emotions of loss through images, and you kept it frsh and unique.

If I had a soul I sold it
for pretty words

-Allen Ginsberg

Anson Beau Cavell
Junior Member

since 2001-05-12

Posts 49
Ohio,US

5 posted 2001-05-29 11:15 PM

Hmmm, good point.
any ideas?

killed my Buddha, killed my Christ
Killed my karma, paid the price

For 27 years I've carried the welt
Wie klein ist Ihre Welt?

Jamie
Member Elite

since 2000-06-26

Posts 3168
Blue Heaven

6 posted 2001-05-29 11:47 PM

Outstanding poem, minus those things already mentioned..

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

Kirk T Walker
Member

since 2000-01-13

Posts 357
Liberty, MO

7 posted 2001-05-30 12:28 PM

"Now he makes the bed in broken sentences"

Wow. Thanks for the explanation of phantom itch--I think it adds a lot to the poem. Not much left to critique, but good job.

Disclaimer: The preceding statement is just my opinion.

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