Description: this is a rewrite...
the whole middle section (ii) is different.
still to, for and about my dad. maybe ill show him one day... i prolly wont though...
letters to a lady * -------------------------------------------
i.
he thought of me and sang.
i have that effect on people
even myself.
especially myself.
"if i were a carpenter
and you were a lady
would you marry me anyway..."
i never said the songs were appropriate
i never could be a lady
alcohol makes us believe.
he believes he sounds like Bob Dylan when he sings when in reality he makes Dylan (who sounds like a tractor out of oil at the best of times) sound good and i believe i could build him a throne from the tower of babel and call him god...
i believe
i never said i was appropriate
ii.
i never said i was appropriate
history hides the lies all too conveniently
in laws laid down dictating who should be loved and how [much]
...sighs added like an epitaph
as we sat there looking at the wall that was once a door
one day i'll love somebody
and we wont promise each other anything
but me-
i have had years to master the interpretation of your speech-without-spacebars mumble...
and all the grieving voices within grew silent
iii.
and all the grieving voices inside grew silent
"if i were a carpenter
and you were a lady
would you marry me anyway..."
i still believe though the tower of babel throne has been worn down by life and time i still believe, though dreams of grandeur have been lead astray by alcohol and rumours of epitaphs i still believe
and i catch him singing every now and then though his lungs now betray him
i still believe
the same world that elated and enchanted me also left me broken
i never said i was appropriate
he never said i was a lady
The poem makes me feel so much sympathy. I'm not quite sure if that's the emotion you wanted to portray in this piece, but it's addictive and sticks to your mind like velcro.
There's nothing to say that hasn't been said already.
wow... very good! it flows very good! and i got so many images while reading it. and it made me remember some passages of my life and when i was with a girl years ago... good!! well keep writing and have a nice day! take care!
Victor
There is so many strong points as to why I dig on this poem.
1. You mention Dylan and I love Dylan as you know.
2. The way you set up and split the parts kind of made a nice pause almost like a changing thought or a passage of time but still connected everything to a nice whole.
3. The selection of song that was sung, but the audience was slightly wrong for the audience. Like trying to impress somebody but saying all the wrong...or less correct things to say.
4. How you portray building someone/something up into godlike stature, looking again, and then seeing them for who they really are. Just human.
5. Best line that slew me : "as we sat there looking at the wall that was once a door". I don't know how you meant for this to come across, but i took it in the sense that doors open and close, but walls need to be torn down. Blocked communiction/feelings what have you. And the fact that you mentioned looking at a wall as opposed to touching/something else, gives it a very hands off spectator not participator vibe to it.
What talent you have! I could see this material expanded into a longer story or even book. I must stop back again to read when my time is not quite as limited. May I ask if this is muse? :-) Sharon
Hi there. I’m fine thnx and how are you? Enjoy the work I hope. Well I’ve not written a poem recently but am working on it. I read and appreciate this beautiful piece of impressionist thought so very deeply nurtured in your essence of spirit. The thoughts you share in the words do also stir me in a way I have forgotten. Life do take it`s pound of flesh or is it kilogram of essence? Glad to hear from you and keep well. Joachim
Well, tis true that you already have a [censored]load of comments, so I'll make this one short (which isn't that hard considering how longs the other comments are). This was a beautiful piece, and just my opinion but i think that you should show it to your father. Sigh. I have nothing major to say, just wanted to comment on such a beautiful piece...Peace and inspiration!
You already have a gajillion comments on this piece so I feel like anything I saw would just be redundant or stupid or inappropriate or something.
But I'm going to comment anyway.
This piece is really effective in that the reader can really get into your mind...I think poetry is all about exposing yourself to the world, and here you do it. It doesn't have to be pretty, feelings usually aren't. And I applaud your courage in letting your true feelings come out.
In that vein I would suggest you -not- to show this to your father. I once found a piece by my sister about me...I don't think she meant for me to see it, but in any case I saw the frustration she felt with me. It confirmed what I *thought* she thought about me, and it really moved me...but in a way it also disturbed me, and told me things I didn't want to know. Sometimes I wonder if I'm strong enough to take it. It's very hard to be confronted with your problems, even if you know you have problems...so I think this piece would be very difficult for your father to read...just my two cents, obviously this is your poem and your father so you can do what you feel is fit.
Anyway that aside, I also just want to say that I totally disagree with Thomas' comment. He said, "the sexual inuendo is just weird and wrong." Well first off, I don't think there is necessarily a sexual innuendo. And even if there were one that I'm not exactly picking up on, to say that you shouldn't write about something just because it's inappropriate is a ridiculous idea. Like I said earlier, writing is all about putting down your feelings raw. Why should you censor yourself just to please others? Yes, sometimes writers need to be "appropriate" - take journalists or writers of children's books, for example - but for personal writing, what is the point of putting down words if you're not feeling them? I saw, always write for yourself first.
I think my favourite part of this piece is that it characterizes both you and your father really effectively in such a short piece. You said so much about a complex relationship in so little. I admit, I don't always understand everything in poetry. But I get the essence, which is what matters the most, I think. Good job...you make me feel good about writing some of my more cryptic pieces. Your un-obviousness is awesome, even if that's not a word, still.
"alcohol makes us believe." --> it does. Yes it does. "I'm king of the world!"
"he believes he sounds like Bob Dylan when he sings when in reality he makes Dylan (who sounds like a tractor out of oil at the best of times) sound good" --> not everyone sings well. And if you were drunk you probably wouldn't sing that good either. And you'd probably also laugh and giggle and slur your words and throw shattering objects into the solid reality of now...
"as we sat there looking at the wall that was once a door" --> is this referring to a door that had been boarded up? Or is this symbolic of not being able to escape?
"and i catch him singing every now and then though his lungs now betray him" --> I only sing when I'm sure that no one can hear me. But when someone walks by or hears me singing, I usually shut up immediately. I don't want people to hear me sing. I'm self-conscious.
I bet he is self-conscious too, but when he isn't sober, you know how your inhibitions slip away...
Interesting allusion to the tower of Babel. But how does your father fit the throne? Is he like Nimrod, who organized the building of the tower and did what was bad in Jehovah's eyes?
I like how you wrote more on this in "this is [not] home #1-4". And isn't it crazy that I made the connection to Bob Dylan without first reading this one?
I guess I'm just very intuitive. Or crazy. Or just a thinker.
It's so sad. Drunken songs from listless dads to grieveing daughters, mumbled incoherence. and yet we love them. thanks for sharing. a beautiful write definitely a fav...
This is not an appropriate poem for a parent...sure, who's lucky enough to have appropriate parents?
I must have read this ten times, dropping by your page to comment and seeing it faved, never really knew how to comment as this hits close to home and I have no idea how to translate the emotions I feel reading this.
Jealousy. Relief. Communion.
There was a point, a few years ago, caught up in spiritualism and deep contemplation of the lives around me, that I began to wonder if our parents gave more than egg and sperm in creating us, if they also gave part of their souls too. That by merging two souls into one, we become ourselves while remaining our parents. Because it can be very hard to love oneself, to hate the ones we love, and parents, (especially inappropriate ones) seem to be a catch-all for the love and hate we cannot master alone.
It's beautiful that he sings to you and that you can sing yourself. I gauge my own happiness by days spent singing; on good ones, I can't help but peal like a bell, my kids hate it and moan that I'm obscuring the tv, and so I'll sing even louder, directly to them. It feels good to know I don't need a drink for that.
I am rambling somewhat here; my own hugely, incongrous parents were cast in the most inappropriate mould of all and no poems from me would ever feature singing. I think the singing here is a bittersweet thread that binds you closely, a sad lament for the eventuality of your relationship but not a bad one, no!
I like the short segments leading to a tumble of words; they give the impression of building up courage to speak truthfully, then pouring in a rush.
The throne from the tower of babel, would it be because he knows your language, or because you wish he'd sing in a clearer tongue?
I like the lines about conveniently hidden history and speechwithoutspacebars, they're unique and add extra wallop to the tone...and strangely, repetition normally drives me mad but it works so well here!
I still can't capture my exact sentiment I feel on reading this...but tried. You've done well here and I hope it brought something special to you, when you wrote it...
wo, this is excellent...the strang images were interesting, and it had excellent flow. I agree with the above ee cummings comparison...mostly it's the lower-casing of letters and the organized/unorganized ideas... goin on my faves, due to the pure poeticism of it (can't really relate, but it isn't always about relating)
In summary: Excellent. A perfect example of poetry.
NOw this is a fine piece of writing here. "Speech-without-spacebars mumble" is one of the most unique phrases I've read when mixing physical and technological mumbo jumbo that is this world of ours.
This write had great words to it and nailed the particular sentiment and feeling on the mark. letters to a lady written by a lady.
All relationships are fraught with risk, turmoil, trauma etc, but also all the positives as well. A father daughter relationship is no different. I have two daughters and I have no doubt that they view my relationship with each of them very differently.
I am sure your father would read this piece with interest. If your relationship with him permits, share it with him.
hmmm this piece inspires thought ive actually enjoyed reading the comments about as much as the piece hehe, just seeing how each person interpreted the work in his own way, which in reality is a sign of a good piece of work because it challenges the reader to rise above what the writer wants to say and see himself or herself in the poem and reflect part of their lives into ur work. very nice write overall some beatiful imagery that both challenge the mind to understand them and the imagination to recreate them :) well done
my favorite epiphany, how you have aged and grown into your voice! and what lovely and unexpected things you say. if there is something i've always known about you, its that though your life takes you far and wide and you have so much to be doing with your life, you don't linger in the past the way i'm wont to do. you don't let your pain maim your talents and your sweet smiles. and though this piece is heavy with thoughts, the past and perhaps pains, i know you don't let them tie down your ever moving feet. i've always admired that about you, thought you should know.
but to the piece. i like the way you've broken them up but managed to keep the commonality in check with a thread of appropriateness and ladylike demeanor. this reasonates and sings like Dylan made good, hun. i had to stop and let each part sink in, making sure to see what you've painted before moving on to the next. i can't get over at how much your writing has improved and taken on a life i could never imagine belonging to someone other than you. i'm sorry, i'm incapable of saying anything further that would of critical value to you. it's all praise and sunny days and the sadness that it's been too long since we've talked ... probably my fault, as fond as i am of hiding under a rock.
this poem reminds me of my relationship with my own father, who happens to be an alcoholic...translating his drunken speech, knowing when to ignore and when to walk away...
this was a very heartfelt piece, and i enjoyed it very much. i liked how you wrote it, and i think it was very well done. i look forward to reading some of your other things.
Dtermined to make an intelligent comment about this poem, but it's the sort I find difficult. Except it's telling me that it's a god poem and I ought to be able to read it.
It's very compressed, saying things about stuff that has not been described - about a long long story which the reader has to guess from the poem's comments about it. I like writing verse and I ought to be good at reading it, so gimme some time while I try & learn something ...
I love Mr Ordinary's comment below : "fricken role modle" ! and "un-fricken beleiveable" is brilliant; Jimmy oughta give awards for that sort of reviewing, whatever it's called!
Really very nice. I especially liked every bit with the word "epitaph." For some reason reading that word has just put me in really good mood...and made me thing of rain, and grass, and cemeteries, and old times. Anywho, terrific write. I really enjoyed it.
un-fricken beleiveable, i love this..this...i dont know what to call it but i love it, wow, you are like a frickin role modle, i wish i knew more of what to say but i dont, just wow, which is what i voted this. i normaly dont read long thinigs but this caught my attention and i am very very glad that i reaqd it, wow
This is gonna be an important poem for me because it looks like good free verse! I have to study poems before I understand them .. a lot of poems are just as enjoyable if I can't understand them! But here's one that I need to study, thank you!! I'll do another comment later ... Why did you feature it? Because of that?
Epiphany says it refers to her life. Thaat means it's a good poem by my staandards if anybody cares about those!
"Arudhati Roy transmitting from the corn belt" is so good but I absolutely don't know who that is!
"if i were a carpenter
and you were a lady
would you marry me anyway..." '
That sounds like a lyrical line out of a Dylan tune and I loved this piece - it has a more intimate and tender yet subtle yet somehow alludes to a relationship that surfaced through sometimes, dysfunctional means but Love was the driving force underlying. The things we say to ourselves or think but somehow have fear to share with those for whom we think them?
I really enjoyed this and good food for thought in my own father/daughter relationship.
it's like arundhati roy transmitting from the corn belt...
you know what i mean reader and yes;
it will always times be the way that love is subject to being rationed.
and it is always the way that some who should maybe not be loved up - are.
and it is always the way that some poor feckers must manage without...
but that's life.
no apple lodges.
you chronicle well poet and for what it's worth and for what i know, this is a good and worthwhile pom...
take it easy.
and relax...
k
What would a throne made from the ruins of the tower of babel represent? The king of misunderstandings? The king of trying to be god? The king of finding his own way to heaven? The king of scattering? Or are there more than kings that sit on thrones...?
Carpenter... allow me to read too much into this. If "I" was Jesus, if "I" was your savior... but you couldn't be a lady. Could "I" be Jesus? I don't think so... that's why you're building "me" a throne from babel's ruins, to be god.
But you believe "I'm" god because of it. But that doesn't make you right (or appropriate).
I don't know... I don't think you meant any of that, but that's what I see when I dig this time. Excuse all those "'I'"s... it just felt weird typing "he." I don't know...
I don't know.
I recently read an interview with author who said if she could only have one book to read on a desert isle, it would be a book of poetry, because good poetry can be seen differently everytime you read it, and has different meanings when read at different times.
What the [censored]? I think the guy below me just hit on you or something. Or he's a very closed-minded person in serious denial about human nature.
Yes, some of this goes against socially accepted behavior-- it's very aware of this, though. It's part of what I love about it.
"if i were a carpenter, and you were a lady"
seems innapropriate at first because it comes out of nowhere, and then
"i never could be a lady"
ouch. and believing in things that go against everything taught but the idea behind it is so loving... the conflict here is just.... no words.
the repeated lines at the end/beginning of each part are awesome. it takes one part of the thought and expands upon it, and then the next takes the resolution of that and builds upon it...
"who should be loved and how [much]"
awesome. who and how dictated, who and how much didctated, of course everyone should be loved MUCH but...
and your sighs are a bit like epitaphs.
you link everything together in here so perfectly...
the "grieving voices" and the "left me broken" don't really have a context. they read fine enough, and they hint at something beyond... these read like someone's thoughts, perfectly linked and and and cyclical, inescapable...
my only criticisms are these:
the tower of babel throne--- maybe just the throne? people might be like "what throne?!" but you've already said it and, well, they can just go shove it.
It's clear that you've put a lot of time and thought into capturing the essence of your relationship, and the reward is that this rings like the absolute truth bell. I don't know what that bell looks like, but I do know that it vibrates at the same frequency as bone marrow.
So you have the sort of effect that effectuates singing if you are thought of, especially on yourself, so then, if you are you and are thinking about yourself you start singing.
Thats just wierd. but ok.
So this is about your dad. Ok. Look I am sure this is sentamental and close to you and everything but the second stanza is just wierd. A father talking about marying his daughter is just wierd. No, not apropriate doesnt even begin to cover it. Its sexual. There is no way around it, and for me makes the rest of the peice unpleasent.
I find the repitition of the last line of each stanza with the first line of the next stanza just that, repetitious.
If never been a fan of building towers to false Gods, and I think, what to me seems blatent, the sexual inuendo is just weird and wrong. I dont know if it was intentionally so or a subconcious thing on your part, but you should know how I read it.
So you have the sort of effect that effectuates singing if you are thought of, especially on yourself, so then, if you are you and are thinking about yourself you start singing.
Thats just wierd. but ok.
So this is about your dad. Ok. Look I am sure this is sentamental and close to you and everything but the second stanza is just wierd. A father talking about marying his daughter is just wierd. No, not apropriate doesnt even begin to cover it. Its sexual. There is no way around it, and for me makes the rest of the peice unpleasent.
I find the repitition of the last line of each stanza with the first line of the next stanza just that, repetitious.
If never been a fan of building towers to false Gods, and I think, what to me seems blatent, the sexual inuendo is just weird and wrong. I dont know if it was intentionally so or a subconcious thing on your part, but you should know how I read it.
As usual, Epiphany, you leave me in awe. There is something so ecummings about this. So mysterious and blatantly beautiful and harsh. I don't think I really found anything to nitpick so for now I will just point out what I enjoyed...
"i never said the songs were appropriate
i never could be a lady "
"...sighs added like an epitaph"
"i have had years to master the interpretation of your speech-without-spacebars mumble... "
The flow of one poem to the next, creating a single poem...a supre poem if you will...is absolutely beautiful. Congrats on a wonderful piece.
I like the interesting breaks in conventions you make with this.
My only criticism (I hope you capitalized nothing on purpose) is maybe to capitalize all of the I's. It'll look a little bit better, and keep with your style. (just my 2 cents)
Submission Name: letters to a lady *
