Spillage

[Delta40]

Emotional spillage
there, on my carpet.
See the fat splashes
lead out of my door
through the town
to where you live?
I don't want to know you
only the environment
that raises you
each morning.
I am a tight squeeze
between the aisles
of second hand bookshops
you like to visit.
So tight.
The tomes aren't worth it
but I would bicycle
past your vision, if you asked me.
If I fish in your lake
I might snare a giant cockroach.
You give me pounds
in return
for the few dollars I have.
When my monorail journey
halts abruptly,
I am left half way along the track.
Crackling sparks of voltage
jolt my fantasy thoughts.
The rain hides my tears
all the way home.
I mop up more splashes
more spillage
from my emotional storm

[Sionn Harrow]

Another fabulous poem;) You should publish a collection sometime...

I especially enjoyed how you built up to the last line. Impressive work;)

[everyadventure]

Some great imagery here. I love the "fat splashes" and "crackling sparks of voltage," but I'm afraid I didn't grasp "If I fish in your lake / I might snare a giant cockroach." Something tells me I'll be seeing these images behind my eyelids as I try to fall asleep tonight... somebody should have told me "No LitNet right before bed!"

[Jerrybaldy]

I agree with the ladies above. I have to ask as to whether you have been taking a Hillwalker course in crypticism :) Think I got the cockroach reference though... that you worry what ugliness you may find if you dig too deep (in his mind). Come to think of it I think only the bookshop reference confused me ...
A great read.

[Delta40]

I'm sure if I let the imaginations of lit-netters interpret the poem, they will find what they desire....

I sometimes wonder about the enigmatic element of poetry. Do we want to hear it straight or in ways that weave a broad spectrum of the human condition?

[blazeofglory]

Emotional spillage
there, on my carpet.
See the fat splashes
lead out of my door
through the town
to where you live?
I don't want to know you
only the environment
that raises you
each morning.
I am a tight squeeze
between the aisles
of second hand bookshops
you like to visit.
So tight.
The tomes aren't worth it
but I would bicycle
past your vision, if you asked me.
If I fish in your lake
I might snare a giant cockroach.
You give me pounds
in return
for the few dollars I have.
When my monorail journey
halts abruptly,
I am left half way along the track.
Crackling sparks of voltage
jolt my fantasy thoughts.
The rain hides my tears
all the way home.
I mop up more splashes
more spillage
from my emotional storm

I have poetic ears but not a poetic mind. I enjoy the music of the poem and can take a dip inthe ocean of its beauty but cannot describe the sparks of the pearls

[hillwalker]

Receiving pounds in return for Australian dollars suggests some epic journey from your little shack in the outback to the shore of LitNetopolis where indeed there are cockroaches and other creatures of the night, as well as a degree of emotional display that you are contemplating immersing yourself in before unplugging your laptop and returning to your hammock.

Am I even close?

H

[Hawkman]

Good stuff, Delta, though I fear I may be under qualified to comment on the poetry of human emotion :D There are some great images here, but there is also an element of contradiction for me. The reference for pound in exchange for dollars makes me think that the narrator recieves more than they give. There are hints at the N's low self image and seeking to please the un named other, yet there is also a fear that this other is not what they seem on the surface. In fact it seems that fear is the driving force behind the poem. Perhaps the N should realise that "Fear is the mind-killer" - See Frank Herbert's Dune!

A good read though. Best, H

[Delta40]

Wow! I think all comments offered here are thought provoking. Each of them reveal an emotional commonality.

Blaze - thanks for you comments on the music of poetry and it helps answer my ponderings

Hill. Litnetropolis - I did indeed travel to the hub of where others seem to be located! Wish I had a hammock. This could be viewed as the distance one travels, the lengths one might go to where their only reward is to clean up the mess they create as a result.

Hawk - I am not sure of the contradiction. There are two ways of reading that line. Getting more than one bargains for might not equate to quality. A cockroach would be an unexpected find (perhaps not even a welcome one?)

Thanks all

[Oniw17]

I'm genuinely glad I decided to go against my normal patterns and read this poem. I liked this part especially, it echoes of failed ambitions.

When my monorail journey
halts abruptly,
I am left half way along the track.
Crackling sparks of voltage
jolt my fantasy thoughts.
The rain hides my tears
all the way home.

[Hawkman]

Hawk - I am not sure of the contradiction. There are two ways of reading that line. Getting more than one bargains for might not equate to quality. A cockroach would be an unexpected find (perhaps not even a welcome one?)



Hi Delta, Yes, sorry - I was interrupted as I was writing my response and it got a bit garbled in the rush to attend to the visitor. Contradiction is not really the right word. Other than the introduction sort of sets us up for a "rejected love" poem and then as you read through it reveals itself as something more traumatic, almost a slavish devotion to the superficiality of the un-named other. But what I said about fear still holds true though.

anyway, it's a good poem. H

[Delta40]

Hi Delta, Yes, sorry - I was interrupted as I was writing my response and it got a bit garbled in the rush to attend to the visitor. Contradiction is not really the right word. Other than the introduction sort of sets us up for a "rejected love" poem and then as you read through it reveals itself as something more traumatic, almost a slavish devotion to the superficiality of the un-named other. But what I said about fear still holds true though.

anyway, it's a good poem. H

Imagine fear of being alone vs the courage required to finish the journey alone. Courage is not the absence of fear so much as the decision to continue on in spite of our fear. for me, the message of courage, with no shining glory is simple and largely unnoticed as we forge ahead.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Read straight, crooked or as if every word meant its opposite, it's an astonishing poem. The pounds for dollars metaphor deserves a lot of pondering (poundering?)

Brilliant!

[Delta40]

Thanks Prince. I always appreciate your feedback.

[Haunted]

While it'd be a journey all of its own to decipher each element here, what shows is your imagination, it truly shines through in this poem.

[Delta40]

Thanks Haunted. I sometimes think you give me more credit than I deserve.