You

 

Seeing you, it doesn’t kill me.

Hearing you still makes me smile.

Learning more about you thrills me,

understanding your artistic style.

Sharing with you all things new,

figuring out your bemused thought,

comprehending the shifting hue,

watching as each bright shade fought.

 

The color of your name has dimmed,

the letters comprising it grown smaller;

now my idea-you is only skimmed

and your name inside’s no longer hollered

with exuberance and jubilation;

instead, it’s dropped, as if in passing.

Oh love dimmed by blown expectation,

snared by dark thoughts that are massing,

why, good sir, your change of heart?

Why on earth’d you change your mind?

I’d rather you said at the start

you were not wanting to be mine.

 

Do you sense the problem here?

Much as I’d love to say I’m fine

I cannot stand to have you near

for just a little bit more time.

I want to break you, yell and scream,

but touching you could cause me pain;

these thought should remain just dreams,

not acted upon, leave soul unstained.

 

So pardon my mild craziness,

but it is YOU who causes my distress.

Reviews

[Katherine Wyatt]

I have one of these..brilliant..how I loved to exchange ides and listen to him he was so brilliant..Fortunately he has been gone years now..As we tried to be friends I had to eliminate that as he was so cruel at times..
You have caught something universal and very intimate here..what wonderful piece!

[Kal]

very nice poem... strong feelings and creative

[Solst Rapture]

Forgive me, for you do not have any idea of me, and this may be misconceived;

The Poetry is complete. There is nothing I can say about the Poetries completenesses. It poses questions that I can answer, it causes me to think about you, ironically, and how I might have been the YOU in this poem; the object...the Subject...

How does it make me feel? I feel responsible for yet more turmoil and I know you do not know me, so it is not personal. I know that, but such is the design of poetry - we step in, take a look around and step out...without ever really knowing whether we caught a glimpse of the person writing or a glimpse of our selves. It confuses me, but then again I am one person in a vast abyss of confused people...I feel repelled by you...this poem is repelling. It is bold, it is stark. You know all that anyway. There is no revelation there.

What is my analytical prognosis? Is that what you want? I'm sure you probably don't. After all, you are simply using poetry to communicate, like most people use it for, which is......what is that? Is it great, is it too late? I don't know.

I find it so hard to know how to do anything other than give you my self, and for the record, I slightly know that it is no pleasure of yours to be given me, by me, yet I am compelled. I'm the monster that cannot leave. So, I hope that this is received with the least amount of real consideration - it might feel ugly. I always see ugliness in my writing, like it's oozing with disgusting split letters; anti-vandal paint over the top with glass spleens inset, with the blood of a thousand escapees dried in the crevices. I know, I know, am I a REAL writer who has a secret identity, or am I another dreamer, or am I just a man who has problems? I cannot answer that for you, but you have my words and they're not free, they are already paid for by your own. You write, so I am indebted to you for writing...that is the way it works. Do you know why? It's because I become communication. I become your meaning, his meaning, their meaning, I become hazy, displaced, and quite a rambler. On that note, I'll move forward ever so slightly. Is that MY problem; that my natural expectation is to not be really considered? Interesting!

I have considered you. You are a stranger on a hill, looking out over the vastness of the land you always fail to trust but hope to continue to love. I wish you more than vague pleasure. I hope you construct meaning around your life and escape the torment of never being satisfied.

Take care, Molly,
Kindest regards,
A stranger.

[Jessie]

I liked your poem alot. You put alot of emotion and, i think, a bit of yourself into it. It was strong, andgry ,painful, but writen in a way that felt like a whisper. Good job.

[Anya]

its a very nice work and i think the best thing about it is that you managed to express emotions that i'm sure we all have felt at least once in our lives...
congats for a job well done..

[melancholia skies]

Woah, great job!
There was so much visionary, and so much expression, it was very charismatic! I enjoyed it alot!
It's automaticly become one of my favorites!

[Irfan Shah]

Beautiful. My favourite lines are:

"The color of your name has dimmed,
the letters comprising it grown smaller;"

I also like the way you have expressed the angry and pain in a way which is mild and soft yet very effective. Well done!

[Chiquita]

This is revealing of your pain. It seems that you are struggling to be ok and get over htis individual. Time is the only balm. Your heart will heal but first you will hurt and cry.

[lizzie]

Sometimes that is a strange feeling, love being an addiction that you can't rid yourself of it...but when you're finally free you know that it was never really love...or maybe it was...love is strange, isn't it? (Understatement) I don't know you yet by the way, I'm Lizzie.....Hi. :] I think we sort of think the same way, and I really relate to your style of writing.

By the way, I really like the part where you spoke of the name not being exciting anymore, that it's only dropped now in passing. Thank you for writing.

[mandy]

very well written.

[doctor's diagnosis]

All I can say is the rhyme is a little overpowering. I like it, don't get me wrong, but there's just A LOT of rhyme. I can relate to this though. Too much.