1.) Do you dream about me?
2.) When I found my diary open on my bed
was it you who read it?
3.) When you hear my name in conversation
do your insides flutter?
4.) Was it you who sent the flowers on my birthday?
5.) When you saw me crying why did
you stay hidden behind the cherry tree?
6.) Do you remember the first time we met?
7.) Have you ever carved our names
into the bark of a tree?
8.) When you said I love you did you mean it?
9.) Why did you leave?
10.) Are you coming back?
1.) Every night. Every day. Always.
2.) . . . Yes. I was looking for answers.
Turns out I never really knew the questions.
3.) It's as if butterflies are going to burst from my stomach like bullets.
4.) Yes. Damask roses. Your favourite.
You always smelled sweeter than they ever could.
5.) I was afraid it was I who had caused the tears.
And my words, so desperate to comfort, would only create greater pain.
6.) Could I ever forget? You wore a lavender dress.
You thought you were invisible. But I saw you all the same.
7.) A thousand trees could never say as much as I ache to.
But if you asked I would decorate all the forests of the world.
8.) Every single syllable.
9.) Fear. Rejection scared me so.
10.) Do you want me to?
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | September 15, 2008 - 17:27
An original idea for a poem, that works very well. Loved the answer to question 7)
"... But if you asked I would decorate all the forests of the world."
Tina:-)
MistakenMagic | September 15, 2008 - 17:32
Thank you Tina! I was a bit concerned about the response I would get to this poem as it is very different in structure to what I normally write. Glad you liked it :P
john_silver | September 15, 2008 - 18:10
A pleasingly inventive poem. I would encourage not leaving this as a one-off but looking for more "alternative" formats like this as they work very well (Linda Cash wrote an absolutely wonderful one called "Test Paper" in the homonimous pamphlet; it has some similarities to yours if you want to check it out).
But I think you need to dry up a bit of the gushing/melodrama in the tone of this poem. The answer to 4.) in particular is waaaay too soppy. :)
MistakenMagic | September 15, 2008 - 20:01
But I think you need to dry up a bit of the gushing/melodrama in the tone of this poem. The answer to 4.) in particular is waaaay too soppy. :)
I am thoroughly ashamed - most of my love poems are about the brutality and pain of love - for a line to fall into the soppy category, geesh, better sort that one out. Any sugestions?
tamara | September 15, 2008 - 20:52
You always write love as you feel it with your real heartfelt emotions.I always share an affinity to your work,it makes me feel human,Fantastic piece as ever.x
john_silver | September 16, 2008 - 10:59
"I am thoroughly ashamed - most of my love poems are about the brutality and pain of love - for a line to fall into the soppy category, geesh, better sort that one out. Any sugestions?"
The idea itself of someone having a fragrance sweeter than roses is ok, but you should be aware that it's an old and (potentially) cliched one, so it needs to be handled with care. I would suggest looking for more original and/or indirect ways of stating it (for instance by means of a creative metaphor or image - look at your own answer for 3., which is much more memorable), rather than simply stating it flatly. Besides, the idea is metaphoric in the first place so expressing it literally is a bit sterile (linguistically, at least).
As for the tone in general. I feel it occasionally lapses into gushing, melodrama or the dreaded "soppiness" :D, for instance in the obvious hyperbole of the answer to 7. I'm going to leave you with a short poem by Rilke which gives an example of a tone which, to me personally, seems more appealing; note how the richness and dramatic power of the imagery and language is not at all 'tuned down', merely expressed in a voice which sounds calm and in control rather than overzealous to please or anxious about its own message. Enjoy!:
How can I keep my soul in me, so that
it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise
it high enough, past you, to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among remote
lost objects, in some dark and silent place
that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you,
takes us together like a violin's bow,
which draws *one* voice out of two separate strings.
Upon what instrument are we two spanned?
And what musician holds us in his hand?
Oh sweetest song.