finding my poem
(after Susan Hawthorne)
after a voyage
across piles of book
big words that drove me
to look for their meaning
in the thick dictionary
I still cannot find my poem
I find it waiting in my bed instead
in the second before I close my eyes
or the first grunt in the morning
a blink and miss moment
I find it waiting in my vibrating phone
all the words I typed in my messenger
the complaints I blurted through skype
or yellow faces lining up in the chat
my poem lies awaiting
in the simplicity of life
that I fail to see in favour of the old texts
*I am still trying to figure out how to write the ending for this poem. Any suggestion would be welcomed :) *
I think the problem with the ending is the lines
ReplyDeletemy poem lies awaiting
in the simplicity of life
not enough work for the reader to do there!
you need to show this by example somehow I think
and the last line is confusing ... not quite clear what you mean here, Chrys ...
I think it's better to post in Indonesian as well as English because a lot of the problems a poem might have could be solved by working across the languages
Yes please Chrys. Post in Indonesian also.
ReplyDeleteMy poem lies awaiting
ReplyDeletein the simplicity of life
I fail to see in favour of the new
but a poem is the last breath taken
and the next one hardly bears a thought
I think you just need to keep writing longer, I think it's the final line that is problematic, could be deleted. I know in my own case, I often attempt closure too early and that creates awkwardness or even cliché.
ReplyDeleteDear all, thank you for the suggestion. Here is what I could come up as the revised version.
ReplyDeletefinding my poem
(after Susan Hawthorne)
after a voyage through piles of books
big words that drove me to look for their meaning
in the biggest dictionary...
I still couldn’t find my poem
I thought I should find it waiting in my bed instead
in the second before my deep sleep
in the first grunt after the sunrise
a blink and miss moment
would I find it waiting in my vibrating phone
all the words I typed in my messenger
the complaints I blurted through Skype
or emoji lining up in the chat?
I suppose the poem has always been waiting for me
during my lunch break or at dinner
in my walk to the office, on my sweaty jog
next to my cup of tea and Oreo packets
I suppose it was there
but I failed to notice it
I was too busy, too absorbed
in the accomplished grandeur of old texts
Rob, the last two lines that you suggested are beautiful. I think they deserve their own poem :)
I came back to suggest the personification of the poem - as opposed to the object poem was there under your nose - then see - here you are! Also the blog threw the word personification right at me. But I think that the tension between the poem ( as an item to be lost) the poem ( as a concept) and the poem ( inside you the person, the poet - thus the poem personified) might be the story here.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kerri. I will try to write that
Delete