I am collecting fragments of myself
not knowing how to piece them together
image by image or word by word
delicately
constructing me
like a first kiss.
Let’s begin with:
blond hair back-lit by the sun and how
I lost myself in the malachite patterns
of half-closed eyes and papery skin that
glowed like a Chinese lantern when we kissed
on Thursdays we listened to Elliot
Smith, that CD you told me was too
depressing to play in the car
I’m sorry I was relieved when you left
me, even though indelible white lines
across my thighs tell a different story
a story I keep
in a tent
in my heart, a story
that time can’t touch
a kitchen scene
a brutal script
of words that stick to skin
and then the counting of sugar cubes in
an attempt to stop the slow sinking of
what you said into marshmellowy membranes
that shelter my brain –
but I know now that life can be cold, I wait
for the moments that aren’t, moments of
transit, of bliss when a laugh becomes a cackle
I’m sorry that you don’t understand the
things I write, I like that you try though
especially the poem where I talk
about myself as an empty space
existing only to fill
but I’m not
sure with what
I feel stuck beneath this silent sky
impenetrable and tight like my father’s
office shirt, maybe tomorrow there will
be time for me to say the right things
but for now, could you take me home?
Because nobody else will.
Comments
seashore | May 17, 2011 - 15:17
For me, every poem you write is better than the last or am I just getting `hooked' on your work? I like that this isn't a `diary', I like that it is very accessible, beautifully expressed with exactly the right word choice and I couldn't possibly pick a stand-out stanza as it works as a perfect whole for me.
One to come back to.
Highhat | May 17, 2011 - 15:47
A very fulfilling poem to read. Rich with metaphores that zap straight into the brain. In short=brilliant
;)Pia
maggyvaneijk | May 17, 2011 - 16:31
thank you both so much
skinner_jennifer | May 17, 2011 - 16:42
Wow what wonderful descriptive words you have used
here, like seashore said, I also cannot pick out a
favourite stanza, the poem as a whole, really grabs
you. Great read.
Jenny.
Nathan Bednarek | May 17, 2011 - 21:04
"delicately
constructing me
like a first kiss."
Oh yes, this is the kind of poetry I like. Very honest, tender and vulnerable and yet it speaks with a certain kind of strength. This poem knows the speaker's feelings and expresses them with confidence, but remembers to be respectful too. It charms me, the reader. Hats off to you Maggy. Awesome work. Well done.
"I’m sorry I was relieved when you left
me, even though indelible white lines
across my thighs tell a different story"
Just too good ;-)
Nathan.
insertponceyfre... | May 17, 2011 - 21:11
there's always so much in your pieces maggy - this one is beautiful!
seannelson | May 18, 2011 - 00:31
Maggy, I like this poem pretty well. You reveal your femininity in an interesting way with good poetic technique. Personally, despite the often depressing lyrics, I don't find Elliott Smith very depressing. Most of the depressive content in his songs is balanced by wit and love of life, which he often seemed to intentionally suppress, probably much to his ultimate misfortune.
- Sean
shoe | May 18, 2011 - 08:54
Stunning, it has breadth and depth yet is very accessible, very much enjoyed.
tcook | May 18, 2011 - 12:47
Another cracker - the only word that jarred a little with me was 'marshmellowy'. It may be a deliberate play on words, in which case OK (but I don't think it works), or it's a misspelling of 'marshmallow' so I think it could just be marshmallow membranes - which works better for me. I may well be wrong of course!
maggyvaneijk | May 18, 2011 - 12:55
Thanks for your comment Tony, it's definitely a deliberate choice but I understand your point, ill give it a few more reads
RachelPatricia | May 18, 2011 - 20:26
'I feel stuck beneath this silent sky
impenetrable and tight like my father’s
office shirt'
- I love the imagery and claustraphobic effect of this line, maggy, it brings a panic to the piece that wasn't there before which only amplifies the crescendo of the final line, leaving you reeling. If I ever see you at an Abc meeting in the future I'd like your autograph please - it'll make me a fortune on ebay one day!
Another stunning piece I really enjoyed this, brilliant stuff :)
Rachel xx
Dynamaso | May 19, 2011 - 05:35
Maggy, the opening stanza has a magnetic pull leading the reader onward in to the sheer brilliance of this piece. It is a journey I want to take again and again.
So good, so very good...
barryj1 | May 19, 2011 - 15:18
I read a powerful poem like this and can only think that poets have a more difficult job than us writers scribbling prose. This poem isn't just good. You have taken it to the next level by skirting the easy imagery and facile phrases. You didn't whine or get pathetically lachrymose. One senses the emotional maturity (i.e. and dignity) of the narrator.
There is so much honesty here that the poem stays with the reader (or at least it does with me) long after he/she/I steps away from the computer screen.
MistakenMagic | May 22, 2011 - 19:22
Your imagery is simply fascinating, Maggy! This is a beautiful, touching, and heart-wrenching poem. Well done!
Magic xxx
Cavalcaderl | May 25, 2011 - 20:22
new maggyvaneijk
Congrat's well deserved cherry!
What a very awesome poem
the words are exploding I like
stanza.
blond hair back-lit by the sun and how
I lost myself in the the malachite patterns
of half-closed eyes and papery skin that
glowed like a Chinese lantern when we kissed.
It's a gem.
julie x
Beeme | June 7, 2011 - 22:28
I agree with all of the above. You will become a successful writer Maggie! You're so talented xx
kirincnj | November 3, 2011 - 06:04
"I feel stuck beneath this silent sky
impenetrable and tight like my father’s
office shirt, maybe tomorrow there will
be time for me to say the right things
but for now, could you take me home?
Because nobody else will."
I've been holding off on reading all of your work here, like one hesitates to finish a book they don't want to end.
Lines like this are why.
maggyvaneijk | November 7, 2011 - 08:37
Thank you.