Past Obsessive Explorations of Meaning

[Dunedan]

These are some of what you might call poems. You can give me feedback if you want, I don't care that much I just felt like putting them up. I don't expect that they're works of genius either... I'm not really a "poet" or anything.

The Struggle

One foot in front of the other
The dance, the fight
Death and life intermingle and for a second
Eternity becomes your essence.
You are the stream of history
The sum of all humanity.

The locking of eyes
The shift of weight
Sweat on handles glowing red
From the light of hell
Which absorbs all warmth.

In this instant all is the same
Your destiny hangs in the balance
Of a second’s action
One blink, one misstep
And dreams and hopes fade into abysmal depths.

Extension of limbs
Flailing and a clash
As steel and steel collide in sparks
That fan and blaze
Burning away innocence and confidence.

Your faith means nothing now
Your knowledge means nothing now
Your strength means nothing now
The only thing that matters
Is living for one more second

That frame in reality
That fraction in time
That split second that determines
Whether you live or die
And how is it determined?

Only a second
Not even a second
The moment you feel it inside you
You are going to win
You are going to live

And then you are dead
And then you have lost
M’dear



The mirror is swirling away
Destroying reality with reason

I thought that feelings were real
Silly me; they have no effect

I thought that love never failed
Silly me, I guess it wasn’t love

And if it was I don’t want to live anymore
Because it is too cruel to still breathe

I though that we had it figured out
Silly me, it seems that never happened

Words were said; m’dear, but words mean nothing, m’dear

The sky is glassy still
Lulling us all into sleep

I thought we ate food to stay alive
Silly me, it’s only there to close our mouths

And thank God, because every time they open
More evil comes pouring out; the oil of lies

I didn’t think that pain could come from presence
Silly me, what could hurt more?

I didn’t think that anything could possible make it worse
Silly me, I should have known

Words can kill, m’dear, but words can make us live, too.

The reflections of light are everywhere-
Only a gilded age of forgetfulness

I thought there was more!
I thought that there was love, and power!

I used to know it would be alright, that it would be made right
Silly me, it’s only ruin and ignorance at the end

If only words meant something
If only love meant everything

I feel physically ill
I hate you; I love you

Your words are empty m’dear.
With all my heart I would fill them
If they could ever be filled
They can’t anymore
Remember?


I am going to remember- close your eyes and ignore
Try to forget me- it’s the only way for you

I am going to recall it- every thought
You can destroy the images and conversations

I am going to keep them- to remind myself-
You can burn them, burn the bridges

Burn them so that you don’t have to feel pain anymore…
You fool- you can’t delude yourself forever

I am going to remember how I was so in love with you
Remember every time my heart melted at your glance

Remember every story you told me- every nonsense letter
Remember how I hung on every stupid word

Remember how I embarrassed myself time and time again
Just to make you laugh, smile, say you missed me

I am going to see you often still- I am going to dread every moment
I am going to remember every time I see- maybe just a little

Maybe too much. But I will remember- and not forget
You, you are going to pretend you don’t know me

I- I am going to be forced to follow your charade, or maybe just ignore you
Not what you were, but who you are now- the liar, the frightened girl.

Running and hiding is your occupation
That other one your accomplice

Accomplish what you will- run far and hide
Hide who you are from me

I can’t bear to look anymore! But I can’t stop either.

Battle Hymn From Under the Sun (working title)


One wish, and this it
Be it gone, diminished, destroyed, abolished
This thing, only one
Love

Destroy it, yes
Make it be gone forever from this earth
It has destroyed enough
Itself

Burned us, lost us
In woods unfamiliar, in dark paths
In blindness of madness
Love

Let this essence feel
The pain it has brought, the shadow of its existence
The cold it brings
Cold

That breaks us apart
Us on the other side of love, hidden
From the beauty
We

Are that shadow, the cold
Where the warmth is deflected
The negative
To the positive

We will destroy it, yes
It is the only way; call us crazy,
Try to stop us with half a heart
You know we’re right

Let us make it all go away
All the fighting, all the fear
You know you hate it like you hate us and like we do
Together

We can destroy it
Let us destroy it tonight
Burn the effigy down
Tonight

Kill the warmth that makes us cold
Freeze the fire that froze our hearts
Thaw again the heat that molded
Our hearts

They are gone, we are lost
Now our only revenge is in this
The breaking of the system
Be with us

Join us, the Love-Smashers
Breaking mailboxes for the sheer exuberance
The thrill of the vacuum
Abyss

Is our banner; death, a funny side effect
Immortal in thought, immutable in sound
Silent as a tomb full of the living
Undead

We yet live; but are incapable of living
In killing we seek redemption
In philosophy we seek water
Deserters

And deserted we are unsated
And bathe ourselves in our uncleanness
Laughing at the living
Loving

Only ourselves, and hating those too
We seek death, we are as fey as they may be
We mock the mirage of a miracle
And embrace a lie.

We drink, only to be thirsty again
But so do you, for what is this love
But provisional and temporal?
Drink with us, drink deep, and forget.

She is Why

A mystery sparkling diamond and rain
Leaping hiding seeking knocking laughing
Blue and silly, gray and black and serious
Cutting and blunt, difficult and comfortable

An adventure lush marble and wilderness
Blowing yelling fighting punching climbing
All a joke, just a funny game
Beautiful and elegant, liberal and ambivalent

Rustling leaves, auburn threads rattling
Crackling brown soft and wavely
Just a crown, the mountain summit
Princess departing and paupers creeping

Sad smile, short goodbye, small glimpses
Lingering briefly slowly quickly glances
Now a stolen stare; then a locking of lives
Burning of memory, promise of love

[Zarn Ishtare]

You really need to put more stuff up on here: I am a SERIOUS fan ever since "Free Association".

[Anna Mae]

I like your imagery in "The Struggle" as well as your cryptic meaning.

I also take a liking to "M'dear." My favorite part was the first two lines of the last stanza. I appreciate the fresh (or at least new to me) take that you have on society and life.

I was struck by the first line of "Remember?" There is a part of the poem that I do not understand, though: "Running and hiding is your occupation / That other one your accomplice." So there is a third item? What is it?

"Battle Hymn From Under the Sun" is a fine title. You are truly a poet. Your poems have a certain ring that is delightful to my ear, especially.

[Dunedan]

I like your imagery in "The Struggle" as well as your cryptic meaning.

I also take a liking to "M'dear." My favorite part was the first two lines of the last stanza. I appreciate the fresh (or at least new to me) take that you have on society and life.

I was struck by the first line of "Remember?" There is a part of the poem that I do not understand, though: "Running and hiding is your occupation / That other one your accomplice." So there is a third item? What is it?

"Battle Hymn From Under the Sun" is a fine title. You are truly a poet. Your poems have a certain ring that is delightful to my ear, especially.

I haven't been on for awhile, so I didn't notice that you had commented on this... I'm really glad that you mentioned specific things...

This is the first time that I've read these poems in a month or so, and the meaning of them is really just beginning to grow on me. "M'deare" (Yes, I just decided to add an e on the end for personal random reasons) was just a sort of sarcastic, really an angry outcry when I wrote it... but when you noticed those lines, I realized what was meant by them... it actually made me sad, I'd forgotten that I'd wrote words like that. I'd forgotten why I'd written words like those.

"Remember" is about two people who were in love, and written by the one estranged... the other has found love again, and so must forget the love that could not continue. At east that's what it seems like to the speaker. "The other your accomplice" was a sort of awkward grammatically allusion to the third party, the new lover. And of course, it allowed for a forced consonance in the next stanza. The speaker is expressing a sort of bitterness at being replaced.

"Battle Hymn From Under the Sun"was named when I put this stuff up here... Ideally I'd have it read by Andy Serkis... I'm glad you think I'm a poet though. I've been wanting to write a novel, but my attention span and work ethic have been a problem... all I've gotten away with is a short story and several half-done stories... half-baked as well I am afraid...

I might put some more up tonight (this morning?). I feel like writing I suppose. Yes, yes I do. But thank you (both of you) for your feedback and comments.

[Dunedan]

Okay... I found a couple... they're a little emo and perhaps a tad melodramatic as well... in addition of course to being mostly incomprehensible, even to me... just imagine the ones I'm not showing... and one of them was written in the last hour... but I won't tell you which off the bat...


Cracks in the Earth

The headphones are a needle
Dripping oblivion into my veins
Projecting happiness, or sorrow, or courage
Into my soul, who cries for more
Without feeling any of it

I throw myself into cracks in the earth
Willing my fury to mean something
Wanting so desperately to be loved
Not knowing what it is; still,
Throwing away everything I have; nothing.

I’m bursting into a small flare that ceases to exist
I’m wasting what little I have
To gain the illusion of what I cannot possess
And it isn’t enough
And I want so much more

But I can’t see at all
And a smile on the wall
Means nothing more than the wall it hangs on
Plaster and promises
Illusions of nothing, of everything I have

I’m crying for it to be enough
Just for tonight, just to stop bleeding for a moment
Just to forget what it was I used to see
Just to be as blind as I was
Just to see everything in nothing

To die in a dream, but what does it matter?
Dream or no, it’s more than I have now;
Nothing, an illusion, memories
All still nothing, so why not the illusion?
A drunken slumber, goodnight but no kiss

Just to die to warmth
Just to forget what I thought love was
Just to sleep in a blue sky
Just to never see
I’m praying for what I hate to happen

Dying alone.(sic-melodramatic and emo ha ha!)


The Big Words May Not Be So (Big That Is)

Love…. Real… Never… Forever…
Big, loaded words we use
So much strength in them,
You’d think it could overflow
And the words themselves become real

We use them as a substitute for sincerity, I guess
Or maybe because we’re afraid
Afraid that it isn’t enough to live
We need the big words as a label
Telling us that life is Life

I guess it started when those adults
Those towering colossi
We feared and awed as children
Taught us to speak and read
Showed us a world we already knew

We thought that they would show us everything
But soon it became more and more clear
That they were children too
Blind leading blind
Making us forget the world we already knew

I believed in Knowledge
A big word itself, and when I was older
In Wisdom, bigger still
But both have failed me
And bled me bitter

It used to seem that answers were there for the asking
A trip to the library
A question to the Colossus
And there you go; the answer
Not.

It seems to me that the bigger words are the smaller ones
My “Yesâ€

[Anna Mae]

[It's good that you admit the incomprehensability.]

Cracks in the Earth

The headphones are a needle
Dripping oblivion into my veins
Projecting happiness, or sorrow, or courage [Already I look forward to seeing how the title fits with the poem.]
Into my soul, who cries for more [It's interesting that, grammatically, you give your soul the status of personhood.]
Without feeling any of it [Without feeling that for which it cries? Does it receive?]

I throw myself into cracks in the earth
Willing my fury to mean something [I like this line.]
Wanting so desperately to be loved [An unexpected line to follow the previous one.]
Not knowing what it is; still, [Does "it" mean "fury" or "love"?]
Throwing away everything I have; nothing. [I do not quite understand your parallel structure here. I also ask a pedantic clarification. The way this line is punctuated, "nothing" is not necessarily what you threw away. If you replaced the semicolon with a colon, the line would directly state that you had nothing, but you threw it away anyway. Either way, it's a good line. It brings up another muse, though. If you throw away nothingness, does that mean you become filled? If so, with what?]

I’m bursting into a small flare that ceases to exist ["Flare" strikes me as a very vague word here.]
I’m wasting what little I have [You are wasting the nothingness that you discarded, or that which entered you to dispell the nothingness?]
To gain the illusion of what I cannot possess
And it isn’t enough
And I want so much more [Good.]

But I can’t see at all
And a smile on the wall
Means nothing more than the wall on which it hangs [If you're worried about dangling prepositions.] [I don't know what you mean here.]
Plaster and promises [I like this line.]
Illusions of nothing, of everything I have [Great line for this poem!]

I’m crying for it to be enough [it=nothing, or it=illusion]
Just for tonight, just to stop bleeding for a moment
Just to forget what it was I used to see
Just to be as blind as I was [Your sequence is perpetuated well by this line.]
Just to see everything in nothing [I appreciate the contrast between "everything" and "nothing" in this poem.]

To die in a dream, but what does it matter? [Have you read the Wheel of Time series (what's out, anyway)?]
Dream or no, it’s more than I have now; [Death is more than you have now?]
Nothing, an illusion, memories [Ah, but what constitutes illusions, and in what way are memories linked to them.] [It is interesting that you have "illusion" singular and "memories" plural.]
All still nothing, so why not the illusion? [Interesting line.]
A drunken slumber, goodnight but no kiss [What?]

Just to die to warmth
Just to forget what I thought love was
Just to sleep in a blue sky
Just to never see
I’m praying for what I hate to happen [Are this line and the previous one intended to come together as one sentence?] [Do you hate it because it's wrong, or because your emotions are not aligned with God's Will?]

Dying alone. [The second period of the poem] [Is this phrase a continuation of the sentence formed by the previous line (and possible one before that also)?] [I like your title. I find it interesting that the title is a little piece of an obscure part of the poem. Is it picked because of its sound, or because it is an over-arching theme?] [I also find it interesting to compare the beginning of the poem to the end, and ponder the journey that connected the two points.](sic-melodramatic and emo ha ha!)

[Anna Mae]

The Big Words May Not Be So (Big That Is) [Good title.]

Love…. Real… Never… Forever…
Big, loaded words we use
So much strength in them,
You’d think it could overflow
And the words themselves become real [reality v. size]

We use them as a substitute for sincerity, I guess [Words? How else would a person express sincerity?]
Or maybe because we’re afraid
Afraid that it isn’t enough to live
We need the big words as a label [Odd choice of words]
Telling us that life is Life

I guess it started when those adults
Those towering colossi [Blessings to you just for using that word.]
We feared and awed as children
Taught us to speak and read
Showed us a world we already knew [Interesting thought. How did we previously come into knowledge of it? Do you mean that they put our perceptions into their mold of reality?]

We thought that they would show us everything
But soon it became more and more clear
That they were children too
Blind leading blind
Making us forget the world we already knew

I believed in Knowledge
A big word itself, and when I was older
In Wisdom, bigger still
But both have failed me [Will the situation be explained?]
And bled me bitter [Interesting word choice.]

It used to seem that answers were there for the asking [I like this line.]
A trip to the library
A question to the Colossus
And there you go; the answer [This semicolon should probably be a colon.]
Not.

It seems to me that the bigger words are the smaller ones
My “Yesâ€

[Anna Mae]

THIS IS NOT A NONSENSE ADVENTURE! [I am amused that I immediately doube the sensibility of the adventure.]

As I have said twice already, this is a nonsense adventure [Huh?]
There is no time or place for it; few will stand for it
I will sit for it, or perhaps crouch Indian style [Amusing sequence]

For the tenth and final time, this is a nonsense adventure! [Is there a mathematical equation that I'm missing here?]
Get out your spades, the time has come! [What?]
Hearts are breaking, diamonds are being scratched, clover blooms! [Nice puns. Odd sequence, though. I wouldn't think that the breaking of a heart would correspond to the scratching of a diamond. And what's with the clover?]

The sun is shining all for us, you and me and Sergio [Who?]
(The fat thin man about yea high) [Don't know him, sorry.]
We are digging for treasure in the middle of the ditch-creek [Just the narrator and Sergio, or is the reader included also?]

You are hanging back on the edges… why don’t you join in?
Sergio laughs and begins to play the fiddle
His fingers are strong enough today [I really wish I knew who Sergio was.]

It is a dance on the clover banks of the great river [Instead of the ditch-creek?]
(Which has dwindled to a rather puny size as of late) [The river turned into the ditch-creek.]
Bees are stinging me and Sergio- you are covered in mosquito netting [Interesting, yet confusing.]

I am singing songs that have nothing to do with mustard [Is this a reference to "cutting mustard"?]
Sergio harmonizes in a negative sort of way
You sigh and check your watch, wondering if we’ll miss the show [What show? Does this line exist only for the next?]

You don’t see, of course, that the show is right here [Saw this line coming.]
We are the actors, and critics, and impressionable audience all in one [It is interesting that these three roles are not assigned to the specific characters but instead attributed to all of them together.]

[Anna Mae]

Natural and Unnatural History

So apparently there are other people in the world
Somehow I’ve always suspected, but never believed [Are you writing from the U.S.A.? I'm not trying to pry, it's just that with a first sentence like that, I'd like to know your general frame of reference.]

I see you, and I hear him, and they believe this about me;
But it’s never seemed real, you see…

One of the imaginary people once told me she was really controlling us all in her mind
What could I say? I agreed with her. [One of the imaginary people in which you now believe? Or did you not necessarily mean to imply that you do believe in them now? Either way, it is an interesting line.]

Sometimes I’ve imagined I was someone else
It’s amazingly depressing no matter how you approach it [Hm?]

It used to be my consuming desire to understand the other people
The imaginaries, I suppose, if I am in a sufficient state of mintery to coin a phrase [Great line. It made me chuckle.]
Or at least to know one imaginary person, really, really well
Until I forgot which one of us was imaginary and why it should matter [This poem is very interesting, in a very good way.]

Sometimes in these dreams kissing was involved
Though now the whole process, kissing, I mean,
Seems vulgar and awkward and useless and indeed frightening
And has somewhat put me off the whole idea

Sometimes we come very close to finding what it is we want [Noted: present instead of past tense.]
And then realize we only thought we wanted it
Maybe we were too afraid, maybe we didn’t really believe
Maybe we were lost and dreaming all along

I came very close one time [To getting what you thought you wanted but actually don't?]
There was no kissing involved
Just looking, terrible, terrible eye contact
And a sort of thinking in unison

It was marvelous. It was beautiful. [Yet terrible?]
It was very close to what people might call love
Except I think I remember something about love outliving a weekend [I don't get the allusion.]
Well, we can’t all actually find what we think we want [Oh. So that which you came very close to obtaining is the knowledge of what you thought you wanted but was actually false. So you are trying to find the flaws in your perception of reality.]

Some of us just have to imagine that we could’ve found it
Imagine the imaginary in a satisfying way
Give into a sad, sad dream [Do you really mean "into" instead of "in to"?]
Realize we’re the ones who are imaginary [And all of the others are the real ones? Do you mean this as a commentary about who lives a full life, or as a hypothetical actuality? Or something else entirely?]

The rest of the world is flesh and blood real
Red blood and patriotism and jogging and sex appeal
Hunting and flirting and laughing and worship [Nevermind. You answered my question. I would caution you not to put that which you do not fully know onto a pedestal.]
But some of us have slipped through the cracks [Some are counter cultural?]

And so the imaginary imaginary people wander like uprooted ghosts ["Imaginary imaginary people." I like it.]
Across a real world in which we can’t participate
Laugh at jokes that aren’t funny
Listen to sermons we can’t really believe anymore

Because everything we thought was love has turned into fear [Intentional wording to bring God to mind?]
And we can’t dare to believe that maybe-
Just maybe-
All of it might be real. [I like your ending. I would appreciate as much of an explanation of this poem as you can render.]

[Anna Mae]

The Yelling at the Fan Game [As in, there is a game called "Yelling at the Fan," or there is yelling at a game attended by fans? I could interpret this in several different ways.]


Given sufficient pause for effect [Good opening line. Now follow it up.]
Having considered the options to the obstacles
A head for heedless heresy
And a brittle path that will shatter as you tread on it [This is a sentence fragment, and thus I am confused as to what your meaning is.]

Stepping lightly on eggshells over easy
Over medium; well done; failed
Asking to take the test again
Only to be turned away

An office with paper acting as windows- behind those
Glass panes so transparent they’ve ceased to exist [Hm?]
Airing the room never felt so ironic
Steel frames have improved the process [What?]

Quality is job number one
What’s job number two?
Four, five, six?
Ten ninety-seven

We’re on the scene
But it’s not set [This wording is awkward.]
The props are hidden away
The setting is perfectly abysmal
Mainly because there IS no setting
We’ve made this place
But lost interest somewhere in the middle
Before lights, camera, and action. [Before they existed, or before they were brought into this situation?]

I change it into a cooking show [With imaginary props or real ones? Where did you get the lights, camera, and action? Or is it merely a sad reflection; it's not actually on the air?]
A cakewalk of necessity
A steaming hot plate of guilt
Lit candles and an extra chair doomed to be left empty [Unless the cakewalk and plate performed the action of lighting the candles, you should change "lit" to "lighted" or even "burning."]

You are a nature documentary
Somewhere in somewhere you
Are stalking this and observing that
I hope you found what you were looking for [Come to think of it, an abandoned, half set up movie set is pretty creepy.]

I am NOVA, I am PBS, I am the telethon
Begging for money I don’t deserve, to buy things [Your grammar implies that NOVA, PBS, and the telethon want the money in order to buy things. Your transition in and out of the role of a television program feels a bit choppy.]
I don’t understand how to use
But boy, it looks cool, doesn’t it?

You are the angry conservative
I tried to be your FOX News, but you called me a moderate [I am not quite sure why, but I like those two lines.]
In anger I decided to start a fake war
Involving a large amount of pudding [Wait, what? It's a cool line, but I do not understand it.]

In the end it’s all about our stomachs
I couldn’t sink my teeth into the thought of stealing you [Who? The pudding?]
You couldn’t stomach a belief in me [So "you" in this poem has never referred to the reader.]
But it’s okay as long as we can change the channel
Or walk out of the theater in a tizzy [Good word choice.]

It doesn’t solve anything, but this isn’t an infomercial for solvents [I like your play on words here.]
Or Solve-O, or The Solution
And I can’t take out stains or clean your carpet
And I guess we’ll never really be friends [Is "I" still the television stations?]

But late at night, when I surf the frequencies,
Or maybe just when I turn on an electric fan [Hm?]
-For whatever reason- I will remember you, and laugh, [Again, I am not sure who the speaker is here.]
And wonder what you’re doing now, what you would say about such and such
And feel a little lonely for you, in a twingy sort of way…
I hope that we play the Yelling at the Fan Game again someday. [Intriguing poem.]

[Dunedan]

Okay, I'm going to got through these and respond to your comments and questions (my voice in italics). First of all, thank you for the punctuation/grammar comments. I really am unsure of how to punctuate my specific brand of poetry.

This poem is not on of my favorites, most of it doesn't make sense and it is not complete. The main theme of the poem is the uselesssness of trying to gain happiness on your own. Also, when I write I usually feel like I'm just channeling part of my personality, so I can be a lot more bitter or evil sounding than I actually am. This also can explain some of the problems with voice. Some of them, though are intentional, as are some of the vaguenesses in grammar.



[It's good that you admit the incomprehensability.]

-this poem especially

Cracks in the Earth

The headphones are a needle
Dripping oblivion into my veins
Projecting happiness, or sorrow, or courage [Already I look forward to seeing how the title fits with the poem.]
Into my soul, who cries for more [It's interesting that, grammatically, you give your soul the status of personhood.] my soul is what makes me a person, in my eyes
Without feeling any of it [Without feeling that for which it cries? Does it receive?] it receives what it cries for, but what it cries for(desires) is unable to satisfy it.

I throw myself into cracks in the earth
Willing my fury to mean something [I like this line.]
Wanting so desperately to be loved [An unexpected line to follow the previous one.]
Not knowing what it is; still, [Does "it" mean "fury" or "love"?] it means love here, perhaps I should try to make that a little clearer
Throwing away everything I have; nothing. [I do not quite understand your parallel structure here. I also ask a pedantic clarification. The way this line is punctuated, "nothing" is not necessarily what you threw away. If you replaced the semicolon with a colon, the line would directly state that you had nothing, but you threw it away anyway. Either way, it's a good line. It brings up another muse, though. If you throw away nothingness, does that mean you become filled? If so, with what?] it should definitely be a colon, I just didn't realize it. And it's an ironic statement: you can never throw away nothing.

I’m bursting into a small flare that ceases to exist ["Flare" strikes me as a very vague word here.] not sure what to say to that...
I’m wasting what little I have [You are wasting the nothingness that you discarded, or that which entered you to dispell the nothingness?] both. Everything "I" has is little and nothing at the same time.
To gain the illusion of what I cannot possess
And it isn’t enough
And I want so much more [Good.]

But I can’t see at all
And a smile on the wall
Means nothing more than the wall on which it hangs [If you're worried about dangling prepositions.] [I don't know what you mean here.] it's talking about a picture representing a person. I'm not sure whether I care about dangling prepositions in poetry.
Plaster and promises [I like this line.]
Illusions of nothing, of everything I have [Great line for this poem!]

I’m crying for it to be enough [it=nothing, or it=illusion] the illusion is nothing
Just for tonight, just to stop bleeding for a moment
Just to forget what it was I used to see
Just to be as blind as I was [Your sequence is perpetuated well by this line.]
Just to see everything in nothing [I appreciate the contrast between "everything" and "nothing" in this poem.]

To die in a dream, but what does it matter? [Have you read the Wheel of Time series (what's out, anyway)?] [I will look it (them) up.]
Dream or no, it’s more than I have now; [Death is more than you have now?] the dream, the illusion. The illusion is part of the nothingness, but nothingness truly becomes the illusion when we believe in it above all else
Nothing, an illusion, memories [Ah, but what constitutes illusions, and in what way are memories linked to them.] [It is interesting that you have "illusion" singular and "memories" plural.]
All still nothing, so why not the illusion? [Interesting line.]
A drunken slumber, goodnight but no kiss [What?] I really like this line... basically its talking about the intoxication of the soul, the desire for oblivion, and then death, but there is no love to save you in an illusion... the goodnight is death.

Just to die to warmth
Just to forget what I thought love was
Just to sleep in a blue sky
Just to never see
I’m praying for what I hate to happen [Are this line and the previous one intended to come together as one sentence?] [Do you hate it because it's wrong, or because your emotions are not aligned with God's Will?]

Dying alone. [The second period of the poem] [Is this phrase a continuation of the sentence formed by the previous line (and possible one before that also)?] [I like your title. I find it interesting that the title is a little piece of an obscure part of the poem. Is it picked because of its sound, or because it is an over-arching theme?] [I also find it interesting to compare the beginning of the poem to the end, and ponder the journey that connected the two points.](sic-melodramatic and emo ha ha!)

Okay, to sum this one up, it's manic and depressing. That explains some of the frantic, half-crazy thoughts happening in it. The first lines should probably be changed, they were written mainly to get me going, and I don't think they really relate to the rest of the poem. The periods, well, yes, I need to add ém. This was only the fourth poem I ever really wrote, about eight months ago. I hadn't read much poetry and I forgot that you still need periods.

[Dunedan]

The Big Words May Not Be So (Big That Is) [Good title.] glad you thought so... I thought that maybe The Big Words May Not Be might've been enough.

Love…. Real… Never… Forever…
Big, loaded words we use
So much strength in them,
You’d think it could overflow
And the words themselves become real [reality v. size] yes, in a way. Big never really refers to size in this peom, but magnitude, effect, weight.

We use them as a substitute for sincerity, I guess [Words? How else would a person express sincerity?] and here you've brought up the key point of the poem... words are not enough. You need to fulfill what you say or it's meaningless. If you say you'll do something and you don't do it, you're a liar. If you say you love someone a thousand times but that is never communicated in reality, what is it worth? This relates to what Jesus said "Let your yes be yes and your no, no" I can't remember the reference for that but I'll try to find it.
Or maybe because we’re afraid
Afraid that it isn’t enough to live
We need the big words as a label [Odd choice of words] Incidentally I work at a label factory
Telling us that life is Life

I guess it started when those adults
Those towering colossi [Blessings to you just for using that word.] it is a real word then? Good. MS Word wouldn't recognize it but I figured it was a right plural usage...
We feared and awed as children
Taught us to speak and read
Showed us a world we already knew [Interesting thought. How did we previously come into knowledge of it? Do you mean that they put our perceptions into their mold of reality?] We are born with innate instincts and desires: language, knowledge of God, desire for companionship, fulfillment, love. These desires are often corrupted by people trying to teach us... basically it's talking about innocence..

We thought that they would show us everything
But soon it became more and more clear
That they were children too
Blind leading blind
Making us forget the world we already knew

I believed in Knowledge
A big word itself, and when I was older
In Wisdom, bigger still
But both have failed me [Will the situation be explained?]
And bled me bitter [Interesting word choice.]

It used to seem that answers were there for the asking [I like this line.]
A trip to the library
A question to the Colossus
And there you go; the answer [This semicolon should probably be a colon.] ah, my nemesis, the semi-colon. We meet again.
Not.

It seems to me that the bigger words are the smaller ones
My “Yesâ€

[Anna Mae]

If you do rewrite the first lines, keep the old ones and use them elsewhere, because they are good.

The Wheel of Time is a Tolkein-esque series written by novelist Robert Jordan. It's really long (and still going). In it, there is a world of dreams into which some people are capable of traveling. If you die there, that is the end of your existance. Period. So, when I read that line, the context of the Wheel of Time was what immediately lept to mind for some reason.


I thought that maybe The Big Words May Not Be might've been enough.
I think that the parenthetical statement is a good addition. I would add a comma after Big, though. (Big, That Is)

[reality v. size] yes, in a way. Big never really refers to size in this peom, but magnitude, effect, weight.
I meant to draw a contrast between the title, where you question the validity of their appellation, and that stanza, where you seem to question their existance.

[Words? How else would a person express sincerity?] and here you've brought up the key point of the poem... words are not enough. You need to fulfill what you say or it's meaningless. If you say you'll do something and you don't do it, you're a liar. If you say you love someone a thousand times but that is never communicated in reality, what is it worth? Ah, so this is an "actions speak louder than words" thing. This relates to what Jesus said "Let your yes be yes and your no, no" I can't remember the reference for that but I'll try to find it. Alluding, of course, to the later part of the poem.

You work at a label factory? What type of labels do you make?

Yup, colossi is correct.

I find it interesting that you list language as an innate instinct. I am thinking of feral children.

I say yes, you say no, I say stop, and you say go go go... why not?
Alright, then. I was just wondering if there was a specific question that was being answered there, but now I see that you were referring to general dissidence.

And in the end, a yes or a no is better than a "but" followed by a longwinded explanation that means the same thing.
Even so, your ending seems too superlative (by "superlative" I mean exclusive).

[Dunedan]

I'm not even going to say anything about Nonsense Adventure. Please forward all complaints to the late Rev. Charles Dodgson.



Natural and Unnatural History

So apparently there are other people in the world
Somehow I’ve always suspected, but never believed [Are you writing from the U.S.A.? I'm not trying to pry, it's just that with a first sentence like that, I'd like to know your general frame of reference.] I am an American. but that is in no way relevant to this poem. The line refers to all the other people in the world besides the speaker.

I see you, and I hear him, and they believe this about me;
But it’s never seemed real, you see…

One of the imaginary people once told me she was really controlling us all in her mind
What could I say? I agreed with her. [One of the imaginary people in which you now believe? Or did you not necessarily mean to imply that you do believe in them now? Either way, it is an interesting line.] Well, this whole concept goes back to a lot of very complicated philosophy, which I will not pretend to understand, but it is based on the idea that it's impossible to know whether most things are real or just figments of your imagination. For future reference all people referred to in the poem are real(to the speaker), but sometimes he doubts.

Sometimes I’ve imagined I was someone else
It’s amazingly depressing no matter how you approach it [Hm?] this stanza was most irrelevant, I had meant to follow it up but didn't. This was the one written and posted in one hour.

It used to be my consuming desire to understand the other people
The imaginaries, I suppose, if I am in a sufficient state of mintery to coin a phrase [Great line. It made me chuckle.] thank you. I think I invented the word "mintery".
Or at least to know one imaginary person, really, really well
Until I forgot which one of us was imaginary and why it should matter [This poem is very interesting, in a very good way.]

Sometimes in these dreams kissing was involved
Though now the whole process, kissing, I mean, good catch, thanks
Seems vulgar and awkward and useless and indeed frightening
And has somewhat put me off the whole idea

Sometimes we come very close to finding what it is we want [Noted: present instead of past tense.]
And then realize we only thought we wanted it
Maybe we were too afraid, maybe we didn’t really believe
Maybe we were lost and dreaming all along

I came very close one time [To getting what you thought you wanted but actually don't?] yes, and also to forgetting whether or not I was real
There was no kissing involved
Just looking, terrible, terrible eye contact
And a sort of thinking in unison

It was marvelous. It was beautiful. [Yet terrible?] yes. That is implied. Ironic.
It was very close to what people might call love
Except I think I remember something about love outliving a weekend [I don't get the allusion.] if there is any allusion, it was personal. The line was meant only to say in an overstated way that it was temporary and did not last
Well, we can’t all actually find what we think we want [Oh. So that which you came very close to obtaining is the knowledge of what you thought you wanted but was actually false. So you are trying to find the flaws in your perception of reality.] Yes. Reality and love are the main themes in my poetry, and the reason I write is to better understand myself and use that understanding to try to help others to understand.

Some of us just have to imagine that we could’ve found it
Imagine the imaginary in a satisfying way
Give in to a sad, sad dream [Do you really mean "into" instead of "in to"?] you are right. Another good catch.
Realize we’re the ones who are imaginary [And all of the others are the real ones? Do you mean this as a commentary about who lives a full life, or as a hypothetical actuality? Or something else entirely?] It refers to the thinking behind the first lines. You can take it many ways. Maybe it means that we're all just someone else's illusion of us. Maybe it means that in the end we're really just the creation of God's mind, and in that way sort of imaginary.

The rest of the world is flesh and blood real
Red blood and patriotism and jogging and sex appeal
Hunting and flirting and laughing and worship [Nevermind. You answered my question. I would caution you not to put that which you do not fully know onto a pedestal.] all pedestals are temporary. I rarely fully believe what I am writing and I wuld warn anyone against taking anything I say as Gospel unless of course it is Gospel
But some of us have slipped through the cracks [Some are counter cultural?] Remember "Cracks in the Earth"? Well, they came back. Here the theme shifts to disbelief in the Church... odd. But perhaps that statement is an oversimplification. Here we see the heirless, those that desire love (and because of that love really desire God) but for one reason or another have trouble accepting him as real. They are imaginary Christians. They sit in pews and nod their heads but they can't sing. They have lost track of what they thought was real... they have lost faith but cannot believe anything else either. They are blowing winds. They are lost children. And for some reason they can't find their way home. [/]

And so the imaginary imaginary people wander like uprooted ghosts ["Imaginary imaginary people." I like it.]
Across a real world in which we can’t participate
Laugh at jokes that aren’t funny
Listen to sermons we can’t really believe anymore [I] Here the incompatibility with other people is related to their incompatibility with God

Because everything we thought was love has turned into fear [Intentional wording to bring God to mind?] [I] Indeed.
And we can’t dare to believe that maybe-
Just maybe-
All of it might be real. [I like your ending. I would appreciate as much of an explanation of this poem as you can render.]

So there that is. Very complicated. Much is hidden in it. It is extremely desperate, but the end implies that there may be hope. I hope.

[Anna Mae]

Maybe it means that we're all just someone else's illusion of us.
So that's the whole "You are who you think other people think you are" thing.

Maybe it means that in the end we're really just the creation of God's mind, and in that way sort of imaginary.
An interesting perspective.

[Intentional wording to bring God to mind?] Indeed.
In that case, I am not entirely certain how that works. We are suposed to fear God. We are also to love Him. Do you mean that they got out of balance and were too far to the fear end of the continuum?

[Dunedan]

The Yelling at the Fan Game [As in, there is a game called "Yelling at the Fan," or there is yelling at a game attended by fans? I could interpret this in several different ways.] It's talking about yelling at an eletric fan, which is mentioned in passing later on. This was something I always did when I was a kid.


Given sufficient pause for effect [Good opening line. Now follow it up.]
Having considered the options to the obstacles
A head for heedless heresy
And a brittle path that will shatter as you tread on it [This is a sentence fragment, and thus I am confused as to what your meaning is.] Ah, I love fragments. Sometimes I think in them.

Stepping lightly on eggshells over easy
Over medium; well done; failed
Asking to take the test again
Only to be turned away

An office with paper acting as windows- behind those
Glass panes so transparent they’ve ceased to exist [Hm?]
Airing the room never felt so ironic
Steel frames have improved the process [What?] This stanza is irrelevant and nonsense. It could probably stand (or sit) to be deleted.

Quality is job number one
What’s job number two?
Four, five, six?
Ten ninety-seven This means "on the scene" in certain squawktalks

We’re on the scene
But it’s not set [This wording is awkward.] refers to "setting the scene". You're probably right.
The props are hidden away
The setting is perfectly abysmal
Mainly because there IS no setting
We’ve made this place
But lost interest somewhere in the middle
Before lights, camera, and action. [Before they existed, or before they were brought into this situation?] This means "Lights, camera, action"as "the beginning".

I change it into a cooking show [With imaginary props or real ones? Where did you get the lights, camera, and action? Or is it merely a sad reflection; it's not actually on the air?] {I] It is indeed, a sad reflection... most of the early half of the poem is plays on words [/I]
A cakewalk of necessity
A steaming hot plate of guilt
Lit candles and an extra chair doomed to be left empty [Unless the cakewalk and plate performed the action of lighting the candles, you should change "lit" to "lighted" or even "burning."] Well, I guess they could've, but I don't think going all Beauty and the Beast would improve the comprehensibilty of this poem. I would prefer to change it to "candles lit"

You are a nature documentary
Somewhere in somewhere you
Are stalking this and observing that
I hope you found what you were looking for [Come to think of it, an abandoned, half set up movie set is pretty creepy.

I am NOVA, I am PBS, I am the telethon
Begging for money I don’t deserve, to buy things [Your grammar implies that NOVA, PBS, and the telethon want the money in order to buy things. Your transition in and out of the role of a television program feels a bit choppy Probably is choppy. But they do buy things with the money(that is why people usually try to get money), and some people do debate over whether or not they deserve it.
I don’t understand how to use
But boy, it looks cool, doesn’t it?

You are the angry conservative
I tried to be your FOX News, but you called me a moderate [I am not quite sure why, but I like those two lines.
In anger I decided to start a fake war
Involving a large amount of pudding [Wait, what? It's a cool line, but I do not understand it.] FYI I am not trying to be political in this. But if there's one insult that a conservative uses for another conservative, it's "moderate". Or "closet liberal". Or "John McCain". And I was tring to defuse any tensions created by mentioning politics with a little nonsense.

In the end it’s all about our stomachs
I couldn’t sink my teeth into the thought of stealing you [Who? The pudding?]
You couldn’t stomach a belief in me [So "you" in this poem has never referred to the reader.]
But it’s okay as long as we can change the channel
Or walk out of the theater in a tizzy [Good word choice.]

It doesn’t solve anything, but this isn’t an infomercial for solvents [I like your play on words here.]
Or Solve-O, or The Solution
And I can’t take out stains or clean your carpet
And I guess we’ll never really be friends [Is "I" still the television stations?] "I" was always the speaker. He is yelling comparisons to himself to try to help the person he's talking to understand. He is not talking to the reader; the entire poem is a play. We are seeing the etrangement of two friends.

But late at night, when I surf the frequencies,
Or maybe just when I turn on an electric fan [Hm?]
-For whatever reason- I will remember you, and laugh, [Again, I am not sure who the speaker is here.]
And wonder what you’re doing now, what you would say about such and such
And feel a little lonely for you, in a twingy sort of way…
I hope that we play the Yelling at the Fan Game again someday. [Intriguing poem.]

I hope my last comment helped clear up the speaker/meaning issues. Thank thank you thank you for your in-depth comments.

PS... I work in a small place. The other guys print them and I cut, splice and roll them. We do medical, food and the ever popular "Cuidado" labels.

[Anna Mae]

It's talking about yelling at an eletric fan, which is mentioned in passing later on. This was something I always did when I was a kid.
Oh! You mean how the fan distorts your voice.

This means "on the scene" in certain squawktalks
What is a squawtalk?

[Dunedan]

Squawktalk... like on a police scanner. It's like "10-4" and stuff like that. 10-97 means ön the scene".

Yeah, it's a lot of fun if you do it right. Weird, simple, clean fun.

The poem has nothing to do with television really, it just uses it as a comparison... I'll definitely leave the third stanza out of the final version.

You've been a big help in several ways. Thank you. Now I am going to feel guilty until I check out your thread, so that's what I'm going to do now.

[Anna Mae]

Sometimes, in poetry, cryptic nonsense isn't all bad.

Well, my intention was not to guilt you into looking at my thread, but I do appreciate feedback on my work. I am glad that I have been of help to you.