watching the faces
in the mirror above the bar
red cheeks underlining shallow eyes
magenta lipstick trying to hide
wrinkled lips
I think up metaphors
to quantify their sadness:
miles of birdless telephone poles
beneath an absent sky,
five unreturned phone calls,
or maybe it’s just one brother
with dreams of scarred elbows.
I don’t know.
but I think that
sadness cannot be quantified. it just pours
out of you like a liquid mouth
and one look at my own face and I see
that no metaphor can
fully measure
the reality of a quiet girl.
I want to go home.
but I don’t want
to leave the friends at my side
and this is when I know
that everything, the way I smile incessantly,
even at people I despise, the way that I kiss,
the way that I hide myself
in my walk,
this letter to you,
is born out of my
insatiable desire to be loved.
3 responses so far ↓
1 mackenzie // Jul 27, 2008 at 9:24 am
I like the uncovering that happens in this poem, how it moves from observing the loneliness in other people to watching it in yourself.
I was thinking maybe drop the first line, go straight to the mirror and the faces.
and maybe skip “can’t be quantified” and go “I think that sadness just pours out of you like a liquid mouth.”
also the friends seem like a distraction, maybe just “I want to go home
but I don’t want to”
But all the rest is real trim, moves fluidly. You ever send out poems to journals?
2 mackenzie // Jul 31, 2008 at 5:17 am
Yeah, it doesn’t send an email out to anyone but the post’s author, but I’m pretty diligent about checking back on posts I commented on. It was actually worsty who came up with the challenge this month so I didn’t get emailed from that comment either. I feel the same, I think I get a lot more from comments from you guys, maybe because we’ve known each other so long and everyone has a bit more interest vested in each others work. so what are you going to grad school for?
3 Liz // Aug 18, 2008 at 4:49 am
Hey!
I tried to post a comment like two weeks ago but it didn’t work… anyways here it is weeks later and maybe a little shorter. I love where you get to by the middle and the end of the poem but i think the begining is weak and needs some work. The first five lines seem all too familiar to me. OR maybe it is really the “red cheeks.. shallow eyes” line that really bothers me. it just seems dull, and i know it is supposed to seem that way but it is too dull or something. Are you aware that you only discribe women here… that part i think is cool. maybe you could play it up…And you dont need five lines…. do this familiar description in three or four lines, pare it down! Plus the bird telephone wire thing is also over used…. if you are trying to think up metaphores and you declare it then think up one that i am not so familiar with (i think birds on a phone wire is like an actual graphic symbol of our generation or something). For instance I love the five unreturned phone calls. Familiar without it being a trope. From there the poem rocks for me! I love the self doubt of “I don’t know.” following a rather strange almost incomplete metaphor and then the conclusion is right on.
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