mackshere
All Messed Up
like a virgin
Posts: 129
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Post by mackshere on Sept 28, 2009 22:24:05 GMT 2
Riverside #42
I remember the day I was supposed to die
You were there to say goodbye
I felt your presence in my sleep
Maybe you were just a dream
But my pain disappeared, it seemed
The vision of you helped pull me through
Your appearance left a flicker of hope
Through it all it helped me cope
I waited to see your face again
But for some reason you never came
I rationalize and decipher the blame
You buried me during my attempt at recovery
In time my love was filtered out
The spaces replaced by cobwebs of doubt
Eventually I cleaned out all my suffering
You are my dad
There is no other
But from your absence
I cannot recover
I'll never understand why
Once again you let me die
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Post by The Curmudgeon on Sept 28, 2009 23:30:50 GMT 2
Another first for the Fortress, surely? I don't remember ever having a poem before. Interesting.
I studied poetry for a year or two and I understand how difficult and complex making good poetry actually is. I remember having to write a poem in iambic pentameter, as well as discuss i.p in other poems, and if there is one thing that's going to suck the fun out of poetry its iambic fucking pentameter. As I said to my tutor, unless you talk like Robocop it makes zero sense.
For what its worth, though, I actually really liked this poem. It could be smaltzy and twee, but its not. In fact, it doesn't give you the whole story, it does make you re-read it a few times and try and get the meaning behind it, which is the sign, for me, of a good poem.
There are a few lines I wasn't keen on, though; the first four lines in the last stanza seem too small and, well, cheap, compared with the rest of the lines.
Still a nice bit of work, though. So what's the inspiration behind this poem, Mackshere?
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Post by trashcanman on Sept 29, 2009 1:20:38 GMT 2
Great job again. Is this a recent one? I don't recall it being in your book. Fathers can be spectacularly thoughtless people at times. I read stories and hear songs about all the fathers that just abandon their children and it assures me that I will never, ever be that man. No matter how my son turns out I will ALWAYS be there. This has got to be about your time in the hospital, right?
I always take a freeform approach to poetry (not that I write any anymore). To me, any artistic constraints like form and length are exactly that: limitations on your personal freedom of expression. Haiku is fun, though. That's awesome that you told you prof that, Curmudgeon. I was a terror in high school lit. I talked trash to my teachers about everything from Shakespeare to The Grapes of Wrath. Poetry too, of course. I actually liked most of the stuff, but any way to get under a teacher's skin is a good way.
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mackshere
All Messed Up
like a virgin
Posts: 129
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Post by mackshere on Sept 29, 2009 4:43:33 GMT 2
Oh Curmudgeon, how could you forget my immortal poem CHAMP? This one is in my book Trashie. I explained the inspiration on the pain thread. It was fueled by my memory of my father's presence after waking from the coma. Then the subsequent sadness, anger, guilt, and disbelief of his absence.
The title is derived from my ealiest childhood memory with my dad. I loved when he took me to the Riverside Racetrack, and we both cheered for car #42.
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