4/20 by Magnolia

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Submission Name: 4/20 dots

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Author:	Magnolia
ASL Info:	31/ F
Elite Ratio:	6.14 - 402/377/27
Words:	202

Class/Type:	Poetry/Misc
Total Views:	602
Average Vote:	No vote yet.
Bytes:	1300

Description:

4/20

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sat on the porch with you-
we watched the traffic,
the screen door banging in the wind,

we laughed like kids as
the man with the big dog
that took the big dump,
scooped away the shit with a scowl--

the walking girls went by,
swinging their arms to raise
target heart rates and
you offered me a brownie,
grinning wickedly over ingredients
not suggested by Betty Crocker-
I waved it away with a smile,
lamenting inside
about how things never change.

as you played me the mix tape
you have worked on all week,
calling in sick,
and smoking too much dope...
I realized--

you get high on drugs and
I get high on these little moments
that make me want to scribble
in my composition book so I
don't ever forget.

I am high right now.

"Call before you come next time-
I'll shave," you say
as I kiss you goodbye
on the cheek.

you will never change-
and neither will I.
and the saddest truth of all
is that though I have never asked
you have never offered.

Submitted on 2005-04-21 15:46:02 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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1: >_<
2: I dunno...
3: meh!
4: Pretty cool
5: Wow!

||| Comments |||
  even in suburbia, there was an undertow, a menacing prescence, a no-last-name drugged up and out youth, drifting...

i love this for two reasons

a) the imagery. the way you set the stange and the tone with the opening stanza perfectly.

and
b) the ending. why? because there's something not right about it. change is the underlying theme throughout the poem, but never expressed or discussed as the subject matter until the last stanza, as though finally coming to the point where you have to admit something personal. and the narrator's words are revealing. the saddest thing of all perhaps subconciously leaves out the idea of the narrator changing as well.

anyway, thanks for a great read on this drizzly day.
| Posted on 2005-12-10 00:00:00 | by lukewarm | [ Reply to This ]
  umh..i didn't just read this because of the title ..
honest ..
well . .at least i'm not commenting on it just because of the title ..
this is really well written. It's like seeing the other side of a well known coin. The language you use gives a mood that is amusingly familiar.

Particularly that last stanza made me think .. or reminded me ..that perhaps those well known coins, Coins that i've looked at over and over, coins i know like the back of my palm have blindspots that I never saw.

It's amazing how we can push things around in circles sometimes for ages, wondering what the confusion is all about, forgetting to flip it around and see it from the side that the other pair of eyes are looking from ..

anyways ..thanks for a good poem

| Posted on 2005-08-28 00:00:00 | by x-ianhoyskolt | [ Reply to This ]
  Though I can't relate this is another well written piece. I like the fact that you can write about your life so easily. I have a very hard time wrting about life. I'd rather write what I feel about life than what's happening in it.
Well written.

HUGS,
Mike
| Posted on 2005-08-20 00:00:00 | by sageeriol | [ Reply to This ]
  my heart kinda went up into my throat as i read on. i relate very well to this blah blah blah... but its a little more. it was like being with the person i once dated seriously, but then just being so relaxed and high that everything makes me happy, and their presence is enough to make your day. i think the only things i caught besides the puncuation were "laughed" was missing a h. this is by far one of the best read poems i have ever had the pleasure to come across, and im not going to lie the title was what got me. thanks again, i wish i had more to ghive you for criticism
| Posted on 2005-06-25 00:00:00 | by Josh | [ Reply to This ]
  it's nice to meet your little anchor in so gorgeous a setting. you know, the anchor, the one whose weight in your memories you at once regret and are relieved the ties aren't strangling around you quite so tight these days. mine is called "will" and he's the reason i'll never again believe a man when he tells me i'm beautiful for the first time.

honestly, there's nothing about this i would change. this makes the bottom of my stomach drop out at a crucial moment, makes me need to stop a foot in front of the finish line for that sweet breath of air that sweet because it is savored, because it isn't sucked in and given out as carbon dioxide before it had a chance to make itself at home. it was just perfect of you to mention change and then echo it at the end, the wistfulness so much more acute the second time around because it has come full circle, the cycle of incompatability that defies heart tugs and what the mind wants so bad to hold onto that it commands hands to write down scooped up sidewalk dog foul in composition notebooks and a dusty cut of Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujuah" on a mix tape.

quite possibly the most meaningful thing i've read all week:

you get high on drugs and
I get high on these little moments
that make me want to scribble
in my composition book so I
don't ever forget.

I am high right now.
{...}
you will never change-
and neither will I.
and the saddest truth of all
is that though I have never asked
you have never offered.

but don't worry; my mind wants badly, too. so a fave. thanks for sharing. =]

grace
| Posted on 2005-05-06 00:00:00 | by blueorchids | [ Reply to This ]
  I liked this well enough, up until the end, and that I found a bit at odds with the rest of the poem. Up until there, it seemed to be about two people, gone different ways, but still amicable and able to enjoy each others' company. In the last, there is a trace of something, -almost a little unctuous, or holier-than-thou, that made me re-read it to see if I got it wrong.

Then I noticed that you say "You get on high on drugs"- yet you were partaking of brownie delight yourself. Do you consider MJ a drug?-or do you mean that he does other substances, that you find objectionable, and if it were just pot you wouldn't mind? In the second last strophe, you show that you dropped by unexpextedly, without calling, -and his words reveal that he feels a little apologetic about his appearance. Why is that? Does he feel he doesn't meet your expectations, or standards somehow.? You are very careful to point out that you kiss him ,"on the check", and I get that impression that you don't want us (and him) to think there is anything between you other than sharing some chit-chat and ganga.
"Call before you come next time-
I'll shave," you say
as I kiss you goodbye on the cheek."

I get the feeling you are drawing lines here, placing distance between you and he because his priorities are different than yours, and that you feel somehow a litle sad about that, -like "if only" he would change, and that for me spoils this, because its not how it started out. It's not that you said "he'll never change"-it's the way you said it There is a bit of judgement there, and when you end with "and the saddest truth of all is that you have never offered", that too makes me sad, because this isn't supposed to be a sad.
People don't offer to change, just to please others,-or if they do, they are just trading one unhappiness for another, because they have to want to change.( besides he offered to shave-lol) Many would not view hanging about smoking doobs, recording tapes as an uncommonly bad thing , -some will regard it as the worst of all low-life styles, but most won't care either way. If you are his friend, then you accept all aspects of his lifestyle,-no?.
Why on earth did I start at the end lol, I liked the beginning! It was a fun slice of life at 4:20, and I liked the way you described how everything seemed so funny. I also liked how you showed that your high, was different than his, that you enjoy the creative apsects, and try to record some of it, where he is content to just get stoned. (though apparently he gets high on music as well )

I think the stanza about the doggy doing doo, could be improved on a bit., I would leave off the brackets for one thing, and work on the syntax there, -it reads as though the man picked up the dog rather than the goodies.( use another adjective for the second "big"?)Perhaps say "scooped"? ( works weell with scowl too)

we laughed like kids as
the man with the big dog
that took the big dump,
picked it up with a scowl-
Anyway, didn't mean to take this long. I was attracted to a poem entitled 4/20 lol, and for the most part I enjoyed it. I just didn't want to come down so fast.

"The answer, my friend is blowin' in the wind-"
Sally
| Posted on 2005-05-01 00:00:00 | by Silverdog | [ Reply to This ]
  so this is what it is like to sit on a porch with the screen door banging.
I was immediately minded of joni mitchell's hissing on summer lawns with its spaceiness and non sequiturs and, importantly the assumed fug of herbal exhaust hovering 'round about head height.

but for all the dancing around the weed and the narcotics of moment, there is a certain wistfulness in this. nearlies and almosts and a need to cling on to memories by going 'round the buoy again and again. it's sad in its way.

whatever.

and just a couple of suggestions for the sake of presentation and continuity and other such poop because I just see some of your line breaks as a little bit arbitrary...

we laughed like kids
as the man with the big dog
that took the big dump,
picked it up with a scowl
(you said he should have used a trowel)

you get high on drugs.
and I get high on these little moments...

I think that you could take a passing glance at the construction and finesse it a little to read more smoothly.
if you want to.

Take it easy,
K
| Posted on 2005-05-01 00:00:00 | by Awkward | [ Reply to This ]
  This poem relates with ease and artfully too your recent experience. Just my impressions follow with perhaps a suggestion or two...
I like this humor and the bonding you describe between the two of you.
Then your segway through the walking girls, walking by, evanescent as your guy offers you some sinful brownies. Like other commentators i like how even in flagrante delicto you exhude innocence with your rather venial sin.
The guy's industriousness is restricted to a mixed tape, which if one had any doubt about the low order of his feat, he's a smoking truant.
You are so different, you are the reasoned dreamer, he the stultified stoner.
That stanza was beautifully insightful!
His only redeeming quality that he offers is that he'll shave: he really doesn't get it.
You pound in the reality in the last verse, laying the fault at his feet, leaving you without an option except to take that "backdoor". Honestly this poem was great. Each line had its purpose, and the purpose deserved each line. Well done. :) Peace
| Posted on 2005-04-29 00:00:00 | by razmohin2 | [ Reply to This ]
  as a .....smoker.
I liked this, as a writer...i liked this..(hold on I have to pack a bowl so i can think better)....okay..i'm good now.
i agree with alia about the feeling of innocence here...
only i feel the innocence in the images of the stoned front porch moments....felt like the first few times you get high..and it does feel like a old flame.. like maybe the guy who was lots of funny and trouble and really not much else.

and he didn't share...???
What a bogart.
i liked this a lot and will have to read more of you. :P
CC
| Posted on 2005-04-29 00:00:00 | by C. Starr | [ Reply to This ]
  doobie dookie it could have been called -not bad mags -I really liked it and there is just nothing more to say about this piece now
lamemansterms
| Posted on 2005-04-28 00:00:00 | by LameMansTerms | [ Reply to This ]
  This is so sad and bittersweet. I like that you wrote it on the date 4/20 *I'm guessing*. Makes sense. I get the connection. I like the simplicity of it up until the end. It really gives a big bang to it. Like a realization. I enjoyed this. Sry it took me a while to comment. hehe And this isn't much of a comment but there's only so many ways to say Great job! hehe Great job! :)
*hugs!*
-blt
| Posted on 2005-04-25 00:00:00 | by borderlinetears | [ Reply to This ]
  ah, if only we could all live in a THC induced haze, then we'd all have an excuse (explaination i should say) for being less-than-human. this was a very very well written piece. it flowed along, it consistently told a story and you told it beautifully. poetically this is, as Napolean would say, flippin sweet.
| Posted on 2005-04-25 00:00:00 | by treybur | [ Reply to This ]
  Right off the cuff you move us into reality and I like that touch here. The dog is making artful sculpture and the girls want aerobic satisfaction. Then you're sharing magic brownies, funny I had a friend who ate them once, not knowing, she was truly funny.
All of us have a friend like this, if you stay the night, they are rolling a doobie for morning coffee. We are lucky that our addiction became art, and so it is. Very well done, glad to see you writing again.
peace and love,
Nan
| Posted on 2005-04-24 00:00:00 | by nansofast | [ Reply to This ]
  This is nothing if not honest. It reminds me of this guy I used to date. He was high nearly all of the time, and to be honest, I couldn't stand him if he wasn't at least drunk. He was all aggressive, but chemicals made him sweet. I feel like a horrible person for liking someone better like that, but I'm sure you'd have felt the same way.

I think I'd add a subject to "sat on the porch with you," or I'd make it "sitting on the porch with you." In "Call before you come next time-
I'll shave," I'd put a semicolon instead of a hyphen.

the walking girls went by,
swinging their arms to raise
target heart rates and
you offered me another brownie,
grinning wickedly over ingredients
not suggested by Betty Crocker.

as you played me the mix tape
you have worked on all week,
calling in sick,
and smoking too much dope...
I realized-

I like how you're eating the special brownies while the racewalkers charge past. That's really humorous and ironic. God, that sounds like the ex again. He'd kill himself doing a painting only to throw it in the trash as soon as it was dry. He'd get fired from so many jobs, but they'd give him jobs (that didn't require drug tests) because he was so cute and sweet when he went into interviews high.

you get high on drugs and
I get high on these little moments
that make me want to scribble
in my composition book so I
don't ever forget.

I am high right now.

Aw, you're high on love. I like how you say those moments make you want to immortalize them in your notebook.

"Call before you come next time-
I'll shave," you say
as I kiss you goodbye on the cheek.

you will never change-
and neither will I.
and the saddest truth of all
is that you have never offered.

Somehow I see the implication of a sacrifice that you've made, and he won't even offer to make one.

I hope you're well. Hugs and brownies (whichever kind you prefer), Amy
| Posted on 2005-04-22 00:00:00 | by cuddledumplin | [ Reply to This ]
  men never change and women always change. even though women always try to change men or expect them to, they don't usually. and really, how can we expect anyone to change to fit how we think they should be. but that's all relative I guess. the poem/journal was really personal and specific and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I don't know if it's your ex or an old boyfriend or whatever, but sometimes the best times with people are those that are not planned and those without expectations. high or not! funny you named it 420.
| Posted on 2005-04-22 00:00:00 | by sierramuse8 | [ Reply to This ]
  i'm glad you posted this little story about visiting with your ex. you have a typo in the beginning... "lauged" should be "laughed." speaking of which, i laughed about the dog. it sounds like you are saying he picked up the dookie with a scowl (like a trowel?!). perhaps you could re-word it to say "he had a scowl on his face as he picked it up..."

getting high on the moments in life is so much more satisfying that the weed. i used to be a big smoker and all it ended up doing was making me lethargic and brain dead... it's too bad that is one of the things that tore you apart.

thanks for posting this Mags!
| Posted on 2005-04-21 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
  This felt like a story about visiting the ex. The result of one of those "amicable" divorces where you stayed friends, but know it will never go back to being anything more than that.
I realize it may not be about that at all, but that is what it felt like to me. Especially at the end. Until you mentioned sadness, it actually felt like a rather comfortable relationship.
Enjoyable,
Dave
| Posted on 2005-04-21 00:00:00 | by Sandburg | [ Reply to This ]
  Well, this just goes to show that there are as many opinions as there are people. I loved the last stanza. I thought the contrast in mood and emotion between it and the rest of poem just made the impact ten times stronger. Its a wonderful 'our life' piece, with just a hint of a melancholy breeze - and then the ending just grounds it back to reality.
Maybe this is because I can empathise with the last stanza, maybe this is just personal preference - but I wouldnt change it. To me, it made this poem :)

The only thing I would think about it 'the walking girls went by'. Somehow, I feel it would be stronger if 'the walking girls walked by' - it enhances their image in my mind...

Thats just an opinion, though :)

All the best,

Katia
| Posted on 2005-04-21 00:00:00 | by Katia | [ Reply to This ]
  I was with you on this most interesting and honest poem,but your ending seem to be out of place. A sudden left turn to nowhere.

Up until the last two lines,it was crazy fun,honest playful and adventureous.

If you would please pm with why you choose to go that route.

good write with some insightful honest fun
| Posted on 2005-04-21 00:00:00 | by edthepoet | [ Reply to This ]

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