Oh nothing much at all.
Well, you must have been doing something?
If you insist . . .
I’ve juggled lovers amidst emotional turmoil,
undercurrents of tension, break-it-off overtones,
& either/or ultimatums,
for marriage, matrimony & monogamy, or else,
each time opting for singleness and memories.
Wandered deserted streets, dirt alleys, empty malls
& obsolete railroad tracks, with no destination.
Taken refuge in Alano Club’s resembling sanitarium day rooms,
sat in libraries searching for magic books, drank coffee in
dreary donut shops, conversed with stroke victim who never
remembers my name & other lonely lunatics.
Laid semi-paralytically on couch
furiously clicking unreliable remote
watching Seinfeld re-runs for seventh time
amidst a lifetime of debris
dirty dish proliferation
clothes strewn in geometric defying randomness.
Microwave burrito, Top Raman nutrition
a foregone conclusion I am The Anti-Martha Stewart.
Moved beyond religious fanaticism & pop psychology
to embrace New Age pseudo-sciences
meditated for chakra activation & white light inspiration,
spread Tarot cards, read daily horoscope & consulted psychics
hoping for happily-live-ever-after-phenomena.
Checked mail for cash and rebates but found mostly bills
checked answering machine for girls, answered phone for same,
hung up on collection agencies.
Dropped in on friends that wanted me to leave.
Fantasized on winning lottery & made list of phonies I
wouldn’t buy for.
Fantasized beautiful women at my beck and call & most of all
fantasized elaborate ultimate revenge scenarios
against all those who’ve scorned me.
Mentally turned back time &
righted every wrong, zigged instead of zagged
as though armed with destiny defying white-out.
Always struggling to straighten this tree
of twig bent limbs.
Cultivated tender shoots of hope among
branches of despair.
Fanned tiny sparks of faith
against rising tides of doubt.
Shouted from roof-tops & mountain-tops to
a thousand deaf ears.
Carried on audible dialogues with self
stopping only to yell obscenities at
inconsiderate drivers.
Got wrists clawed reaching out to angry best friends
who maintained their right to drop into the abyss.
Incurred the wrath of schools, employers & institutions
for non-conformity after vain attempts to fit in.
Did not sit still for one second even
while sleeping.
Rode rollercoaster until nauseous.
Spun tires at 1000/RPMs until treadless &
wound up in exact same spot I started.
Reviews
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I know you never edit but.....
Nothing worse than asking someone how they are and actually being told. By the third stanza I was losing the will to live! Which presumably was the idea. It's a little long even given that premise, but remains enjoyable for all that and it's definitely worth getting to the final stanza. On a re-read, it struck me that the tense in which this action is being played out (I think it's the past perfect but I could be wrong about that) gets lost as the 'list' grows longer. And that injecting the odd 'I' or 'I've' here and there, as sort of a refresher, actually does have a refreshing effect. I'd do it at the beginning of each new stanza myself, but if you only do it in one place, do it in the final stanza, thus
I did not sit still for one second even
while sleeping.
I rode the rollercoaster until nauseous.
I spun my tires at 1000/RPMs until treadless &
I wound up in exact same spot I started.
That stanza changes the mood of the whole poem for me, moving it from a litany of futility to a sort of plea that, goddammit, you've been doing your best. It makes me, the reader, root for you again. Funny how you always manage that.
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hey john
thanks for the comments and suggestions. as i told Lad this was sort of a break out poem for me hence i probably think its better than it really is. glad you where able to hang in till the end.
dave
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I love that Dave...If you insist...I’ve juggled lovers amidst emotional turmoil,
undercurrents of tension, break-it-off overtones,
& either/or ultimatums,
for marriage, matrimony & monogamy, or else,
each time opting for singleness and memories.
Awesome, clever way to say this is why I am back to being single, but I have my memories
This one I enjoyed, just how much it is packed with imagery--Dirty alleys, empty malls -- drank coffee in dreary donut shops
I like your referencing to Seinfield, a favourite show of mine, that never should have ended.
I think if anything something I enjoyed with this piece was the LIFE feel to it, the normality behind lines like checked mail for cash and rebates but found mostly bills and so on....
In so degree I felt like you were writting my life in parts lol, just becuase of those things...we can never seem to avoid
That last stanza stood , the going around in circles feeling, to me is also an appropriate closer
I enjoyed this from start to finish Dave, longer but as reading I didn't notice because it flowed through so well
Cindy
. Rewarded 8
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hey cindy
thanks that was a really nice comment. as i told lad that poem means or meant a lot to me.
wow the show seinfeld in australia? you have good taste.
dave
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Older it may be, dave, but it's a beauty of an adult lifetime - it reaches out and touches whatever it means to be human and sane and confused and decent in a nutty world. I like this one plenty. All the balances and imbalances of an emotional and thoughtful life, mostly the latter. And the final line hits just the right note: all that spinning in circles. Just my opinion, but I think this one is one of your most deeply imaged poems; it goes deep with your usual light touch.
The voice in this one is dave's, but the style is different from your usual. And I like the honesty of your admitting that you "can no longer duplicate" it - I know the feeling. I, too, like some, some, of my earlier stuff that had a certain ping and pong to them; but when I try to do them again, it's no soap, probably a good thing.
Anyway, a poetic man comes through in this one, rather than just a poet. Ah, maybe it goes on a little too long, but, in the end, it all sums up to a fine triumph of what it means, poetically, to take a long, steady look into a mirror. Really nice work!
Lad. Rewarded 8
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hey lad
thanks and as usual you got the finer points of the poem.
this was kind of a breakthru poem for me and seemed to sum up a segment of my life i was going thru at the time.
this poem means a lot to me personally so I probably think its better than it is, but that you picked up on that it means a lot to me, means a lot to me.
ave
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I love how this penned such a beautiful story of life and the experiences that go along with it. I promise you if you work at it you can probably duplicate something like this.
. Rewarded 4
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hey ag17
thanks for the kind words. my style and life have changed a lot since i wrote that poem, hence i can't duplicate it.
dave
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Dave,
i think this is quite a masterpiece. A life narrated in 448 lines and given as an answer to one question. I like how each stanza ends; each ending a summation that packs a punch. I suppose that was how each realization came through as well...at the end of it all. Nevertheless, this seems autobiographical and the life narrated was an interesting and difficult life. The ups and downs of it all, this capture the depressive state ever so well, it made me laugh a bit, especially the line 'anti-martha.'
The rather matter-of-fact tone and seemingly simple narration of a life is an image tied together by the last stanza..a roller coaster. The roller coaster metaphor can be cliche, but i think the way it is only mentioned in the end, and used not as an evident metaphor made the ending work. I enjoyed reading this poem dave, it was nice taking that ride along a life that seems to have been reflected upon.
-iphios -
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hey iphios
thanks for the nice comment. that was s break thru poem for me i'd hadnt been writing too long and it summed up a segment of my life. since then I've moved on but is was a watermark. thanks again
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woa
I liked this one immensely! It is quite unexpected around every turn. I most enjoyed the "Did not sit still for one second even/while sleeping." It is too quirkiy detailed not to be from life. Greatness. -
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hey raven
thanks for commenting. yeah that was from real life but i've moved on but those were the good old days.
dave
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Some great phrases in this poem that I loved. "clothes strewn in geometric defying randomness" and "Cultivated tender shoots of hope among
branches of despair". There was an abundance of imagery as you felt as if you were going on a journey only to end up paradoxically end up "in [the] exact same spot" although for the reader, we are all the better for it.
. Rewarded 6
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hey nova
thanks for coming along on the journey, glad you enjoyed it.
dave
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this poem is your life
with all of it's "geometric defying randomness". I dig how this wanders about all lost and abstract like a roadmap of your life. The poem is an excellent self-portrait and even the structure and word choice is an exemplification of you just as you are.
I like the result of this, dave. This write bolsters that phrase "most men lead lives of quiet desperation". You have capture well here all of the miscellaneous bits and pieces of life that collude to make us who we are. There is a saying that "we are the sum total of all of the decisions we make." Well, this is your choice collage, this is you on a bulletin board cluttered with the fluttering sticky notes of your life. This is the poem that I read before and thought it was a "personality unplugged" poem.
Excellent work, dave.
al
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hey al
let me start by saying i think you and lad are by far the best at giving articulate, concise comments that make the poet feel their work was really read.
that poem was a summation of a long segment of my life, and the writing of it seemed to corolate with me moving on and even though things are easier now, i look back on that times fondly like you do when you first met your wife and were living in the trailer.
so here's to old times, new times, good times and bad times.
cheers,
dave
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hey gG
great hearing from you as always as i got your comment i was printing out your latest so i can go to starbucks and order an expresso and give the attention it deserves. break a leg or an arm at the open mic,
dave -
Hey, Dave. This is hands down your best piece-- well, okay, definitely in the top three. This is a gorgeous summation of life-so-far, a day-in-the-life with the Beatles music ripped out of the background. I love the twists and turns as you wind in and out of your days-- you speak for so many of us who have been on the Top Ramen and ocassionally employed train.
Like so many of yours, it's painfully funny, a mirror into our world, where we wonder why aren't getting anywhere, but you answer that question with "tires at 1000/RPMs" spun again and again.
I love how it's unapologetically modern, yet timeless. I love the peppering of amphersands and abbreviations, the mundane, the psychological, and the spiritual.
In case you couldn't tell, I loved it.
Lauren
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hey lauren
thanks so much. in a way i feel badly this is an old poem and i wonder if my best is already behind me.
dave -
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I think every poet feels that way:
"But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet— and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid."
-T.S. Eliot
If we weren't in constant terror of losing our edge, we wouldn't ever be great. Complacency is the only real killer of poetry.
Aaaaand getting off my soapbox now. Before I fall off and hit my head. . .
Lauren
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hey lauren
your absolutely right, but really writing just gets different with its share of good and bad poems, and the pity would be if it always stayed the same. keep repping them out.
dave
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Windhover
January 25, 2008