Jump to content
Poetry Magnum Opus

A Box to fill up


JoelJosol

Recommended Posts

-------------- revision --------------------

Once in this room, one afternoon,

while rain water dripped on the window glass,

 

and the room was deprived of daylight,

I kept peering at the ceiling for no reason.

 

Signs of you were in every corner:

that small picture frame that kept your smile,

 

those magazines you asked me

to buy regularly,

 

that graffiti you wrote on the wall

with your lipstick,

 

and the laptop full of logs

of our chat when I was away.

 

Today, at 36 degrees Centigrade, I've got a box

I can't get myself to start filling up.

 

 

 

------------ original ----------------

Once in this room, one afternoon,

while rain water dripped at the window's glass,

 

and the room was deprived of daylight,

I kept peering at the ceiling for no reason.

 

Signs of you were in its every corner-

that small picture frame that kept your smile,

 

those pile of magazines you asked me

to buy regularly,

 

that graffiti you wrote on the wall

with your lipstick,

 

and the laptop full of logs

of our chat when I was away.

 

Today, at 36 degrees Centigrade, I've got a box

I can't get myself to start filling up.

 

[/size]

Edited by JoelJosol

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

Link to post
Share on other sites
Aleksandra

Wonderful, Joel. Nice and passionate poem. Emotions, memories and reality. Very well done.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

Link to post
Share on other sites

Not sure how hard it was for you, Josol, to write this poem, but I am certain the ink would have been smeared by my tears if I had to do it. Most excellent poem.

 

I do have a few minor, though not insignificant quibbles best described by an edited re-write and a single note re English usage.

 

Once, in this room, one afternoon,

while rain water dripped at the window's glass, ~~~~~~~~~~~ *see note below

and the room was deprived of daylight,

I kept peering at the ceiling for no reason.

 

Signs of you were in its every corner---(?) ~~ a sentence w/list follows; 'poetically', a period/semicolon is OK .

that small picture frame that kept your smile,

 

those pile of magazines you asked me ~~~~~~~~~~~~ either “that pile” or “those piles”, your choice

to buy regularly,

 

that graffiti you wrote on the wall

with your lipstick,

 

and the laptop full of logs

of our chats when I was away.

 

Today, at 36 degrees Centigrade, I've got a box

I can't get myself to start filling up.

 

* The preposition “at” normally appears after verbs denoting/connoting rather specific, if not, say, more ‘violent’ actions. We can yell, shout, throw, scream, rail, shoot, peer [L4] etc. at something (the list can be quite long). Of course, I do love poetic license and liberties, but there is a limit. In this case “drip” is strongly associated with a relatively slow action and, specifically, one whose objects are more like horizontal, which a windowpane is definitely not, though a skylight’s glass would.

 

One could say “dripped on”, but this poem is not about wimpy or silly feelings, and I would recommend “pelted or whipped at” because that water, i.e., rain drops are most likely to be wind driven.

 

IN L5, the "its" is most likely superfluous (what else has corners but the room) but could be a misleading dissturbant, because the closesst likely sintactic referent is the "ceiling" and that is not whose corners reminders of her are found.

 

I hope you see I cannot resist being sad and compassionate when a fellow poet’s good poem may loose its full impact die to tiny oversights, and I hope others here let me know when I do. I would appreciate if you respond to my temerity, no matter if you agree or disagree.

 

BTW, the main clause [in S1] seems to be, “Once…….. I kept peering at etc.” The comma, after “once”, helps reader to immediately see you are inserting several {most interesting and illuminative] phrases which, theatrically, would be called “asides”, or “interjections” to a grammarian. I find that technique as the most effective that make the start of your poem strong enough to be reflected at but not overwhelmed by the heartbreaking closure.

Edited by waxwings
Link to post
Share on other sites

Hi Joel, You certainly know how to tug at the heart. I am always impressed by the easy flow of your words, you a master of rhythm.

 

I have only one suggestion and I think Ike may have already mentioned it, but I haven't fully read his comments...

 

those pile of magazines you asked me

 

Grammatically I believe it would either have to be those magazines in a pile or the pile of magazines...

 

However you want to word it, this is a moving piece.

 

~~Tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

Link to post
Share on other sites

JJ,

 

an excellent work- I have read it several times and each time it comes down: solid. As poetry nit encapsulates a certain perspective on a very pure emotion- it makes me cry.smile and appreciate your amazing poetic ability-half truth half sense and half sensibilty- brilliant!

 

 

DC&J

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

Link to post
Share on other sites
Larsen M. Callirhoe

i agree with every comment made so far. i love poems like this.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

Link to post
Share on other sites

Thanks guys for the feedback. I welcome the corrections waxwings and Tinker.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

Link to post
Share on other sites

Joel, I read this a number of times. Everything's just right from the undisclosing title to the heart wrenching content. "Deprived of daylight" and your mention of the chat logs and the temperature strike a particular chord with me.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

Link to post
Share on other sites

Thank you, Tony. Nothing like this actually happened to me. It is just the thought that graced my head and painted the scene.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

Link to post
Share on other sites
Thank you, Tony. Nothing like this actually happened to me. It is just the thought that graced my head and painted the scene.

 

If you were to think only the thinkable and write the possible, you would not be a poet, nor would there be any poetry at all if the few did not dare to do it.

Edited by waxwings
Link to post
Share on other sites
I agree, waxwings.

 

You humble me, JJ. Not everything I see is sure to be the only way, just smething that hits me as best for me, not you or other obviously talented writers/poets.

 

One more thing (see, I missed that the last time around). The underlined part in "Once, in this room, one afternoon" is a separate qualifier, one of many, tothe main clause that starts at "I was peering etc." and should be set off by commas (I added the leading one).

Edited by waxwings
Link to post
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines.