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Teen Poetry #6

Forgetting

Allysa

Senior Member

since 1999-11-09

Posts 1952
In an upside-down garden

0 posted 2002-12-06 11:25 AM

Dirty hands desperately grasp
at the mud-covered hem of a
worn T-shirt.
He shrugs her off so she grabs the ground.
She stands, wobbles slowly,
paintbrush in hand as she calls out
Wants to hear him talk
about all the things she can't
seem to remember anymore.
Downward spiral and she's
trapped, their hands grab
relentless claws of pain
ripping her memories from her
stealing the fruit of her mind.

Remember a time, when time
was nothing more than a constant?
With a wheelbarrow affect on the world,
she dries her eyes, lifting things up
moving them downward, dropping them
on others, drowning herself with them.

The text scroll in her mind
is nothing more than continuous stock
numbers now, limited intelligence
has brought her to a place
where all that she paints
is the things in her mind that
she couldn't bear to forget.
The honey trees left,
and she wants to go with them,
she seals the deal with a swing of her hips.

The past no longer present
etched into her mind
she surrounds herself with the paintings
on the wall.
Take me back
to a time of contentment
where the evil was only present
in my mind.
I want to go back
to a time of normalcy
back when I would not
forget to remember.

"Wie ein Quadrat in einem Kreis, eck' ich immer wieder an obwohl ich doch schon lange weiß, daß ich niemals ändern kann." ~Wizo

Local Parasite

Member Elite

since 2001-11-05

Posts 2527
Transylconia, Winnipeg

1 posted 2002-12-06 12:08 PM

NICE. As usual, your descriptions are superbly well thought-out and impressively creative. There's a lot that I love about this poem, but mostly it's the metaphors. Lots of cool, very confusing imagery that made me really want to keep reading.

quote:
Dirty hands desperately grasp
at the mud-covered hem of a
worn T-shirt.
He shrugs her off so she grabs the ground.
She stands, wobbles slowly,
paintbrush in hand as she calls out
Wants to hear him talk
about all the things she can't
seem to remember anymore.

I love how you describe that helplessness, that feeling of being tiny.

quote:
Downward spiral and she's
trapped, their hands grab
relentless claws of pain
ripping her memories from her
stealing the fruit of her mind.

I think you could have broken this up with a bit of punctuation at the ends of the lines, just because you have so many enjambments in other places in the poem... it would be beneficial to the flow and not make the reader have to figure out for themself whether or not a line enjambs.

Claws stealing the fruits of her mind, that is a good visual... makes the "ripping away" seem more real and understandable, like some clawed creature picking all the apples from an apple tree.

quote:
The text scroll in her mind
is nothing more than continuous stock
numbers now, limited intelligence
has brought her to a place
where all that she paints
is the things in her mind that
she couldn't bear to forget.

I know this feeling as well. I like that, the text scroll is just continuous numbers now... like there's nothing in her life anymore that can be worded, it's all quantifications and numerals that have been seen before. Life just becomes boring and uninspiring. So the only things worth "painting" are the memories. I think this stanza is my favourite because it mentions the importance of memories, instead of just saying, the memories are being lost. Gives the rest of the poem a lot more purpose that way, I like it.

quote:
The honey trees left,
and she wants to go with them,
she seals the deal with a swing of her hips.

I'm not sure what the swing of her hips is for... it seems this is the first time you've described her body, rather than her mind. It was a bit of an awkward transition for me because I'd been picturing the mind so vividly, and now I have to stand back and look at the body instead, to get the swing of the hips. Maybe it was just me.

The honey trees left? Again with the tree image... I like that connectivity. Also the description of a time in one's life that was rich and fulfilling as "the honey trees." Puts them in a very desirable, but dependable sort of position. They're leaving, and she wants to go with them. I think this is the first time you describe a longing for that previous time in the poem, after "she wants to hear him talk." It's refreshing to see you introduce it again at a late point in the piece.

quote:
The past no longer present
etched into her mind
she surrounds herself with the paintings
on the wall.
Take me back
to a time of contentment

I would have somehow signified the transition into first-person, using italics or something maybe. I do like it very much, you set up the character and then give her words at the very end... but I would have signified the transition to keep the reader from thinking it was the narrator talking all of a sudden. Could be a little confusing.

quote:
where the evil was only present
in my mind.

I like that. Where evil is something make-believe and doesn't have to be worried about. Strange how we have things imagined that we willingly imagine, but would never want to become a reality.

quote:
I want to go back
to a time of normalcy
back when I would not
forget to remember.

I think that could use a semicolon at the end of the second line. Very nice finish, though. In the end it's a longing for that state of normalcy, where she has everything she wants, all of the thoughts that feed her paintbrush, and she knows enough to be able to remember them.

This is a very intriguing piece and it definitely kept my attention throughout. I'm glad I got the opportunity to read it. Hope to see you posting more, Allysa.

Parasite

Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
~Aldous Huxley

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