Description: I hope this doesn't need much description to be deciphered, I actually wrote it when I couldn't get to sleep and was looking around my room wondering how it defined me.
Any comments are appreciated, particularly suggestions on which 'type ' it should go in.
My room -------------------------------------------
Sometimes when sleep is running late,
I huddle under the duvet,
scratching your name on my palm with
a click-pencil. It’s ‘living art’
I suppose- and it tickles.
Lying there, I wonder if you’d
enjoy glancing up to see
Van Gogh’s 'Sunflowers'- posing for
us on the calendar hanging
from my wall. And maybe you could
smile at my stodgy slippers and
open schoolbag, smeared over the
carpet like fig jam on whole-wheat toast.
Perhaps you’d bring a stereo,
and together we could sing
"Girl from the North Country" with Bob
Dylan and Johnny Cash. Maybe
then we’d sit on the mattress, and
you could see a half-glass of water
become full in the lamplight.
I wonder if you’d like my room-
all those pieces of me, just lying
all over the place. Perhaps if
you did, I’d find a red biro
and sketch your name on my palm again.
Like this poem. Can't say anything that hasn't already been said. You have the makings of a true poet, and I wouldn't hesitate to get your published work. It has a sort of honesty and simplicity that works really well, without having to overdo it. We need more Aussie poets like you ;) just don't escape to England... lol... 'When sleep was running late', an excellent line really... the school bag being compared to the jam on wheat toast I particulary liked..nice touch. Definitely a favourite of mine. (except I don't know how to add them. It's just not there on my page. argh..) Cheers.
I didn't read all the other comments to get a feel for what was said and what was left to be said, but....It's very special in its freshness, it's so kidlike, but not a desperate attempt at eliciting pathos from the reader. I mean it's so me back in the day. I like your opening line: "sleep is running late". Original, humorous and it makes sense. Your poem is replete with uniquely hewn gems. Your "living art" tickling raises the bar on communicating the heartfelt earnestness of the boys love while garbing it with a light touch of humor. It's often hard to avoid patronizing when writing a satirical piece, but you pull it off with unassuming flare and ease. My favorite line has got to be those "'Sunflowers'-posing for/us". It's so cuute. Btw why the caesura right there after "for"? Actually that would perhaps be my only doubt is the at times random appearance of breaks in your lines. That "half-glass of water becom[ing] full" is also quite precious. And you close with a "red biro" this time. The kid is getting serious and taking out the big guns. lol. Great piece:) Peace Raz
Hi. I enjoyed your poem. It was clear and easy to follow. You knew what you were writing about and you used the factual details of your room to give a clever insight into your thoughts and feelings. I seem to remember having pulled a certain cherry-tree to bits. Hell, this is so much better, I don't have anything to criticise. (Must be losing my touch!) Well Done.
Wow, I've found a new favorite! It's been a while since I've found a poem that I enjoyed as much as this one.
What I really like about this poem is the offhand, casual tone of it... as if you were simply having a conversation with a friend. There's not really a lot of embellishment, just simplicity and honesty that I seem to lose a lot of times in my poems. You would probably enjoy reading poems by Frank O'Hara... he's one of my personal faves and writes a lot like this. I guess the only metaphor I didn't just love was the idea of your school stuff being smeared across the carpet... maybe something more along the lines of "strewn" across the carpet, like marbles your little brother spilled... or something like that.
I guess the thing I really like is that you've got the essence of "love" really captured. I think that this culture has put a lable on love that makes it look so far-away and romantic and idealistic that people forget that the most beautiful things really occur in the everyday - that's what love is about to me, being able to find the beautiful in normal occurences and scenes with another person.
Okay, enough romanticizing for one day. Thanks a lot for sharing, this is a great write!
Well, I like "Sometimes when sleep is running late" because I'm an insomniac.
I huddle under the duvet, scratching your name on my palm with a click-pencil. It’s ‘living art’ I suppose- and it tickles.
I used to write my crushes on me too, but it was usually on my arm because I have this insane germ phobia that entails washing my hands way too often, so it wouldn't last long on my palm.
I think you're confused about the use of the dash (You have a hypen anyway; a dash is two hyphens typed together, and in some word processors, if you hit enter, it will convert it into a proper dash). You generally use dashes as an alterate way to set off parenthetical material or items in a series, or to indicate a sudden change in thought. Anyway, I'd make sure that you have dashes instead of hypens and make sure they are used correctly.
I've also noticed that you use single quotation marks to punctuate the title of a painting. They're italicized or underlined. Song titles get enclosed in regular double quotation marks.
And maybe you could smile at my stodgy slippers and open schoolbag, smeared over the carpet like fig jam on whole-wheat toast.
Those are nice mundane images. That's paints a vivid picture in my head.
"you could see a half-glass of water/become full in the lamplight." I like that you included something quirky like that. I thought I was the only one who noticed such things.
You asked what I might suggest in way of a title, or even what it should include. To me, this is a poem written to your friend. Twice you speak of writing a name on your palm, once with a click pencil, once with a red biro. I think this calls for a more descriptive title as opposed to a one or two word summary. Perhaps something as wordy as:
"Red Biro, Four A.M. (I wrote you on my palm again)"
But I think it should mentione something about the relationship of this late night wondering to the friend.
Perhaps others could leave suggestions as well. Take care, Dave
Wow, I never thought about a room like this... I mean a room is somewhere you sleep, also possibly a place to hang and to stay in when you have no where else to go. Meaning you are feeling sad, and depressed.
The imagery, I was really impressed with. I felt like I was there, and thats what is so great about this poem. It seems that your room is a piece of art.
Our rooms are like the visible extension of our personality.
For example... my room is a [censored] mess, and so I am... j/k (am I really?)
I loved this from top to bottom. It was sweet in the way it was spoken to the friend/lover; almost childish, but in a sense-very adult. You don't invite just ANYBODY into your bedroom (hence, your soul).
My favorite? 'Sometimes when sleep is running late, I huddle under the duvet, scratching your name on my palm with a click-pencil. It’s ‘living art’ I suppose- and it tickles. '
i have to take the whole stanza there. I love this... I wish I could eat it (weird, huh?) I'm having a bad day and that was the kind of thing to just ease the horror of a (oh my god) Saturday.
I liked the way you described your room. The fact that van gogh wasn't hung in a glorious frame, but on a callender, that was choice. And the stodgy slippers, those were great too. I think mentioning how a half glass of water becomes full in the moonlight was interesting as well. In the U.S. we would say the calender hung "on the wall" and I'm not sure if "from the wall" is just the way it's written in Australia, or if it should be looked after. Also, although the title does fit the poem, I think you might try to think of a title that refers to what you are really discussing here. It's not about the room now, is it? But all in all I thought this was a nice poem. Dave