This reminds me of how we wake in the morning to a host of fears. While no one is talking, they want to get us moving on our day. They begin to speak when we are least able to silence their efforts.
and even while when we capture them in jars along the wall,
they speak anyway
as for Jesus, I'm no expert but a priest told me that it was a greater sacrifice to leave the Father and be born than to die.
just saying that seems odd to me as though we've gotten the whole story wrong...
how did these lines find their way into the same poem?
hmmmm, interesting, and I feel the anguish
It vexes me when I can't grasp poems, especially ones of merit! That is why I still haven't readed T.S.Eliot's The Wasteland and some of his other poems- densely incomprehensible. I really love your poems, but I can not understand them. Forgive me. Could you explain how to get a foothold on your poems?
The title of the poem is reminiscent of a line in Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven, "only this, and nothing more."
[queue alarm clock : sleep invasive blearing
"nothing's been as hard
as you've been on yourself lately"]
I can't understand the usage of queue.
forced from bed like a hostage
by this cold and hostile morning
Then Night would be the rescue team?
yesterday screaming like a prophet
The blazing freshness of these lines is invigorating! Often we look back and see that yesterday had signs which predicted not only how yesterday would turn out, but also how today and the rest of our lives will be played. So to some extent yesterday does predict tomorrow.
smiles fracture the air
Smiles can fracture the air by being synthetic, or too numerous or...?
while ninety flavours of trouble
compete on his tongue
I like synaethesia.
dreams line the walls
like organs in a jar
Lovely imagery! Dreams decapitated, mutilated, sold for hire. shriveled, up for public inspection ...
and this is [nothing]
more than an ode
to a life lived without a plumbline
A life without plumbline would be crooked, awry and unmeasured. Excellent mental image!
[perhaps Jesus just nailed himself to his cross
before anyone else could...]
Are you suggesting that life is so dreary that Jesus could have commited suicide?
loneliness is [nothing]
more than a social disease
I would think that you mean that loneliness is the remedy to the social disease?
I did not understand the use of the brackets, and the italicization. This was a wonderful poem to read. Thanks.
I agree with the past couple (LOTS) of comments. I always read your stuff and kind of blink to myself, because it's not really what I was expecting, or it's just so fresh. The formatting on this piece was very good, with italicized stanzas and line placement. It made the two separate ideas clear and powerful. Not gonna lie, though, this, and really all your pieces, take a very smart person to get thoroughly. You're language is amazing, and diction is wonderful, but sometimes I have to read three or four times before I even get an idea of what is going on. This is great when I'm looking for a read. Like Now.
Often I will read you and smile to myself thinking "she is so good, so fresh..." and there is nothing tired or reused in your best work and it makes me so proud and feel well accompanied to know you (somehow). It feels good. I guess I love that feeling of being knocked on my ass by words. It was always like this, I would read a poem by one of the greats and it would either do it for me or not. Certainly subjective, but I could see an intrinsic worth in the words, but more so a clever and powerful mind at work in constructing something that crystallized an idea or emotion or state of being or condition of life. I remember the my next thought was I want to do that, I can do that. It's crazy good to read good stuff.
Thank you,
Marco
ps - I love these lines most of all -
"[perhaps Jesus just nailed himself to his cross
before anyone else could...]"
I could see us burning to the stake just for thinking it never mind writing it...
You know, normally I really hate the inclusion of [] brackets in a poem. I feel like screaming at the screen "well, which is it? Is that word included or not? Why can't you just write something without overformatting it??"
But here, that's kind of the point, isn't it? The uncertainty is an integral part of this piece.
This is never going to be one of my favourite pieces, because I find the hopeless tone running through it really depressing. On the other hand, you have captured the drifting emptiness of loneliness pretty well, so in that sense it is a good poem.
I don't understand this bit at all:
"while ninety flavours of trouble
compete on his tongue"
because (apart from Jesus!) there is no mention of another person anywhere in the poem, so this doesn't seem to fit. Unless it refers to the narrator? It's unclear.
If this reflects your mood, I hope you've cheered up since writing. I know it's so hard to function in that lonely, depressed state of mind; it's like sleepwalking.
"nothing's been as hard
as you've been on yourself lately"
Ok, so as soon as I read this, I'm thinking that you've written this just for me...I think we must be emotional twins at moments such as this, for we've both nailed eachothers inner-self in ways where ( at least for me ) I'm staring at this screen, going Whoa...
I always enjoy reading your stuff Jay...though I may not comment on them often, there are the ones like this one where I just have to say I love reading you...
I know this isnt much of a helpful comment, nor one that provides suggestions...I just wanted to say I'm feeling ya on this one...
Perfect metaphors from daily life... like the alarm clock that's a good symbol for the whole days burdens, responsibilities, conflicts, misunderstandings... it also becomes the representation of the force that snatches us out of the warmth into the field of action where we try to find bliss in general confusion.
The image of
dreams line the walls
like organs in a jar
is absolutely surreal.
You have used unusual and original images to bring home your point, the overall effect is dark, anyhow somewhat familiar.... because this is what most of us have to go through... yes, loneliness is somewhat like an non-preventable, incurable disease.
Of course Jesus nailed himself to his cross long before anyone else did. Martyrs always make themselves more than well enough known and seem to carry such huge persecution complexes.
Or, I mean, you could say he was destined to end that way but we both know how I feel about destiny.
Loneliness is nothing more than a social disease...
"[perhaps Jesus just nailed himself to his cross
before anyone else could...]"
Wow...
Im very impressed,even from you who seems to have an endless supply of excellent lines,that was something special me thinks...
Really,I almost cant say anything else but I have to because the rest was good too.
I get what you mean about having to leave the bed,taken hostage by morning is a great way of putting it,Ive been trying so hard to fix my sleep pattern lately cos it was driving me mad and when you want to stay in bed but know you HAVE to get up or itll be another wasted day its...well its damn right depressing!
(and I sound so lazy now...)
Im guessing both the anguish you show in having to get up and the epic sense of loneliness that leaps from this are because of your injury at the moment,I hope you feel better soon:-)
Anyway great piece (again!)
One more thing,
when you say "yesterday screaming like a prophet"
That sounds like your looking back at yourself when you were healthy with both admiration and a sense of
scrutiny (I think),
But I dont get this part:
"and this is [nothing]
more than an ode
to a life lived without a plumbline"
Its saying to me,its more than an ode,and that its not more than an ode,
That conflicts with me,but Im sure I have it wrong or Im taking the brackets wrong or something,maybe you meant to show something there like "Im neither here nor there" or something to that effect,Im not surre..
Anyhow,that line I mentioned at the start was spectacular really,
-Craig
Im commenting while I have time,someone died nextdoor and my grandparents are gone in to help out the husband so Im on their PC at the moment.
look at all the comments! You see, all these people.... I mean, you see all these people? They wanna tell you what they think, because it makes them think of something.
first, before I get all philosophical:
the [nothing]: brilliant! I mean, by puting "nothing" there, you add... something. The something's that's the whole 'nother layer that's the whole subject of the poem (sort of. it's the top of the layer cake.)
And this
nothing
has been as hard
as you've been
on yourself lately.
you say you can't pull off double meanings, but they're there.
the dreams line the walls like organs in jars
This, for me, is the saddest bit. All the dreams, preserved in foetal state. Preserved, because they never grew into something beyond just dreams, and they're surrounding this person (well, I guess "this person" is you, but I wish it wasn't).
I think you make the connection clear enough to anyone who's familiar with the movie-esque science classroom or study/ experiment/ collection.
loneliness is (nothing) more than a social disease.
And here's where I might get all philosophical and reference various geeky anime series you've probably never seen. I mean, IS loneliness a result of the way we've structured our society? Is there a better way, weher we won't be lonely? Personally, I think there's a better way, but I'm not sure if it'll work, cause last time it came close to happening, Franco took Spain by force. We're constantly trying to reach out and communicate with other people, to find something in another mind we can relate to, but is this just a part of being human (and more than a social disease)? Are our attempts at intimacy and communication simply ways to forget that we're fundamentally alone, or are they the cure, and a society structured around working as a whole, where people are more like interlocking gears working towards the better good of all (instead of all the me! me! me! capitalism and self-gain motivated, rat race, climb-to-the-top [censored])... would something like that really ease our loneliness, or is it something caused by the fact that we can't ever be connected to the mind of someone besides ourselves?
I must say, you summed it up better than I did just now, but I thought I'd say it anyway, cause we all desperatly want to believe that we can really know what someone else is talking about, even if we can't really know them. Even if we can't really know ourselves...
This wirte struck me a s rather cynical of course no one like wrenching themselves out of bed. I have to a night before i go in and sometime i have tried on vain to sleep. I liked reading the different elements independently. Smile facture the air. Screaming like a prophet. Those two lines are wonderfully visual. peace
What I like most about this amazing post is probably the shortest line...
"Smiles fracture the air"
You can meditate on this simple line for hours on end and for me it symbolizes the entire heart of the poem.
I don't pay too much attention to grammer and punctuation myself so don't take the nitpicking feedback too seriously... as long as the message comes through and to me this happens... in clear brilliant writing.
forced from bed like a hostage
by this cold and hostile morning
yesterday screaming like a prophet
smiles fracture the air
while ninety flavours of trouble
compete on his tongue
dreams line the walls
like organs in a jar
and this is [nothing]
more than an ode
to a life lived without a plumbline
Interesting assumption, that Jesus would allow Himself to be nailed to the Cross to not only fulfill prophecy and deliver mankind, but to escape the ceaseless depression of a multitiude convinced their day is like a hike through hell before they've opened their eyes. Fulfilling the inverted proverb, where there's no hope, there's no life. It must have been a rough day when this was written, or perhaps it was the mantra of a past bad day echoing in your mind.
...each one stands alone it seems: even the stage directions (you're just missing [she exits stage left, with a barely audible sigh])...
yes: 'cue' alarm clock and invasive 'blaring' i think but blearing has a degree of charm to it anyway.
to rattle between something and nothing, depending on your mood; on your state of mind is not unusual but when the sensation is mapped out in this way with the nothingness delivered in parentheses well, it somehow underscores the stark reality of not wanting to get up in the morning. after all, there are dreams (of the preserved variety) to go back to.
i'll tell you what i feel about this: it is stark and bleak and reminds me of the sort of rain that soaks you to the skin even though it is not particularly heavy: it is all down to the angle it comes in at - and the particle size...
and this is another step in the right direction mate because as we all know, the rain stops eventually and friends pop 'round for tea (if they're invited).
...each one stands alone it seems: even the stage directions (you're just missing [she exits stage left, with a barely audible sigh])...
yes: 'cue' alarm clock and invasive 'blaring' i think but blearing has a degree of charm to it anyway.
to rattle between something and nothing, depending on your mood; on your state of mind is not unusual but when the sensation is mapped out in this way with the nothingness delivered in parentheses well, it somehow underscores the stark reality of not wanting to get up in the morning. after all, there are dreams (of the preserved variety) to go back to.
i'll tell you what i feel about this: it is stark and bleak and reminds me of the sort of rain that soaks you to the skin even though it is not particularly heavy: it is all down to the angle it comes in at - and the particle size...
and this is another step in the right direction mate because as we all know, the rain stops eventually and friends pop 'round for tea (if they're invited).
Hmmm...loneliness as a social disease. Interesting concept. I was kind of bummed when they said on NOVA the other day, "Galaxies and stars come and go, but black holes just get bigger." That sucks...literally and figuratively.
Anyway, to me, having the words hostage and hostile close together like that sort of read strange.
"smiles fracture the air
while ninety flavours of trouble
compete on his tongue"
Interesting way of describing a long worn out relationship. At least thats just how that read to me. Ships in a jar.
it's chilling and almost clinical, yet definitely not with a lack of emotion.
excellently illustrates the difficulty of simply getting out of bed sometimes. sort of reminds me of the brilliant song "the jitters" by the dismemberment plan (now that's a band with amazing lyrics). also captures the feeling of loneliness, of solitarily stumbling around uncertainly in an unanchored life that sometimes doesn't offer much, that is [nothing] more than, well, anything.
"nothing's been as hard
as you've been on yourself lately"
while ninety flavours of trouble
compete on his tongue
great lines.
as for suggestions, i'd say maybe change
dreams line the walls
like organs in a jar
while it is a strong image, i don't think the comparison really works here. but maybe that's just me.
loneliness is [nothing]
more than a social disease
Hey Jaydee! I haven't left you a comment in years.
Years.
Okay. I like the quote in the first parenthetical stanza, but not the first line. It's so...clunky. I mean, I suppose that could be an effect you were going for, but "sleep invasive blearing" is just...too much, I guess. I can't swallow it. At the very least I think you need a hyphen, to make it "sleep-invasive blearing," which smoothes it out a little.
What do you mean by "dreams line the walls/ like organs in a jar?" Like jars of organs on a shelf, that's how they line the wall? I like this, but I really can't see the comparison. But I do like how it sounds.
And of course you couldn't leave out the individual word brackets! So it something or is it nothing? I don't know which you say it is. Are you unsure, or do you just like it being able to be both? I just don't understand the significance of the brackets. Is it a whisper, that despite the fact we're being told it's more than an ode, it really is just an ode?
I love the Jesus line. Spectacular.
!!!
And I like the ending, but I again is it or isn't it a social disease? Is it whatever the reader wants?
Okay. I feel like I was really harsh. I like the poem a lot, it just leaves me confused in several spots. It has the trademark Jaydee voice, which you for some reason want to escape. It's a unique thing, hang on to it. Voice is why people read a particular person. It's not about the story; it's about how you tell the story. And I think your readership would testify to the fact that you can tell a story quite interestingly.
So yep. I like it, but I want to understand it more. Tell me!
I think your lack of puctuation, from a gramatical perspective, is totally fine. Your line breaks puncuate adequetly enough, the rest is superfluous. Onward.
Your first stanza exquisitely encapsulates the phenomina of waking up from a horrible previous day, except my alarm clock just calls me mean names. anyways...
yesterday screaming like a prophit
great line. this is like the old hindsight is 20/20 line backwards or something. But yeah, great line. so true too. Definitly my favorite line from the peice.
The jesus line has me a little confused. Why? because he was lonely? Maybe you are trying to get the reader to see that when you are looking through lonely eyes, or sad eyes, depressed eyes ect, that you see the world in a different light, or maybe I should say a different darkness. Interesting. I dont know.
This is awesome! incredibly powerful and scintillating at the same time. It seems as if you were ruminating over many existential issues and the way you did it was great. Your wording is astounding and brutally telling.
It occurs to me that you wrote this possibly after having undergone severe pitfalls in your personal life and you woke up one morning fed up with everything and everybody and created this ...
I have to admit that I've often felt like this way:
"forced from bed like a hostage
by this cold and hostile morning"
and I just bloody hate it.
Moreover, I think that you have some unique phrasing here for instance:
"dreams line the walls
like organs in a jar"
As for the imagery, I feel that this is the best feature of this write. You chose some pretty intense lexis to create pictures that at times appear to be disgusting but brilliant nonetheless..... Probably disgustingly exquisite!
As to the ending, it was just striking, intense and well - thought out!
Congrats,
I just loved this!
As for criticism I'd suggest you to revise the last word in the first line coz it appears to me that you meant "blaring" rather than "blearing" which does not make much, at least to me. Likewise, the format seems a bit convoluted but probably is your own style and if that's so just wave aside what I've said!
[queue alarm clock : sleep invasive blearing
"nothing's been as hard
as you've been on yourself lately"]
Firstly argh typo! I think you mean "cue", which is an interesting word to use because it makes it feel like you're trapped in a movie or play where the day follows a necessary order, objects cued at the appropriate time to invade your existence. And then the quotation marks and the speech as if the alarm clock is sadisticly yelling at you because the simple act of waking up instantly reminds you of things you'd rather not be reminded...
As a start (to both the day and poem) it's really bleak and this atmosphere obviously permeates the whole poem, but there's more than that. The whole piece feels disjointed, each part on barely clinging onto the others, there's barely even a character or narrator for the emotions to attach themselves to, just Jesus and a mysterious he with a trouble-flavoured tongue. This all gives a feeling of something missing, a day that yesterday has left empty, lonely, floating as lifeless as the dreams that are now [nothing] more than organs (dead blobs, floating bits of people, long gone). Gah this poem really depresses me.
And you know what? I honestly think you underestimate this poem... And even if it doesn't say what you wanted or needed it to say, I think there's plenty enough in it to justify its existence.
to me, this peice seems to sum up the feelings of drudgery of everyday existence, strong annoyance (the blairing alarm-clock among other things) -- more with loneliness than with other people...
the words in quotations seem to be your own thoughts but they don't sound too condoling.
the dreams on the walls could be like pictures or paintings, but if juxtaposed with such an oddity as a specimen on display, they seem unlikely?
anyhow, the second to the last stanza about jesus hanging himself to the cross for personal glory reminds me of that song by tool, eulogy.
well, as far as the last stanza... loneliness is a disease itself whether inflicted by choice or circumstance. i don't think people themselves are the disease (although some do have signs of being 'diseased'--)
yeah, i personally choose to be a loner for various reasons. it's not always the best thing to do -- to stay to yourself cuz then you start getting weird thoughts... hehe, guess that's just part of the disease.
Well. Just where does one begin to break that down?
Over all I liked it. I really liked it. Its got a style to it that I haven't seen for a while. Reminds me a bit of Bruce Dawe similar kind of approach to getting the reader to relate to the poem. Also I liked the way that with so few words there is such strong imagery. Its not often that someone can come along and in a few words set up such a scene.
There is a lack of punctuation and grammar but honestly I will overlook that on most poems. I have a general problem with the dratted stuff myself.
The italics used to highlight certain points and change the tone momentarily is a very nice touch. Its good to see that people have not forgotten how to throw new things into the mix on elite.
Nothing really to set against it except the general lack of punctuation. Nice work. Very nice work
Submission Name: and this is [nothing] more...
