Between These Pages

[Delta40]

Between these pages
a dry, fragile flower
is pressed to remind me
giving up on you was better than
the lonely walk to your house,
ill wishing my brothers,
speaking constantly
to block out the truth.
You still brushed me away
like dandruff on your shoulders,
crumbs on the bench,
an unwanted stray cat.
I never returned to you
as a sound investment,
an old age pension,
or a high wealth dividend.
My interest dwindled
between these pages
like the fragmented remnants
of a pressed flower.
This tattered book -
nothing more than recessive love.

[MystyrMystyry]

Nice fragile imagery Delta - not sure about the 'ill wishing my brothers' (blokes in general?) but a Barret-Browning-esque quality to it (I imagine - I haven't read that much of her) and a sense of loss even though it's stated to be a misplaced infatuation

Sometimes get the feeling you write your 'love' poems to someone in particular who's never fully developed - my gentle suggestion: create the character as an entity (be it soldier, man-of-action, fire fighter etc, so that this someone has an identifiable quality for the reader, and allow your imagery to expand into their field

You seemed to start with the 'heavy machinery' which perhaps could have been a little more 'farmy' and the the object a touch more 'farmery' so that you get out of yourself and into their muddy shoes

We blokes are more about what we 'do', whether we're mechanics, truckdrivers, goldminers, social workers or whatever - don't be afraid to put some meat on the characters' bones

(Just a general observation - still a good poem)

[Delta40]

Thanks for the suggestions MM. No offence meant here but I believe your translation of 'do' mentions professions. It omits any other role, which this poem is about. Why write that he was a good fitter and turner if he was an uncaring, selfish father The only reason I would mention his profession would be to make male readers feel he was a success in some way.

I appreciate your posting MM.

[MystyrMystyry]

Sorry about the comment

I just woke up all wordy and forgot that this forum makes all sentences the same size, and an aside comes across as a public criticism

What I meant was when you just refer to a 'you' (to a ghost without qualities) there are questions raised - if they're so bad why write a poem about them at all? They must have some redeeming virtue surely?

As a reader I want to know a bit about who they are and what the attraction was...

[Delta40]

You're right in that regard, of course. If I said he was my father I would limit who readers could apply this sentiment to in their own lives and I don't want to narrow it down to one character on that basis.

[MorpheusSandman]

I don't think I could add anything more to what MM said, but I pretty much agree. Although, I rather prefer love poetry that keeps the addressee a more distant mystery. I think Donne's poetry would be much weaker if we always knew whether he was writing to Anne Moore or some anonymous suitor. I did especially like the very delicate handling of images in this piece.

[Hawkman]

Hi Delta, I think this is a powerfully delicate piece, but I'm disturbed by the indefinate article before pressed flower at the conclusion. You have already introduced the flower, set it in context and given it meaning. I feel it would be more approriate to return to it with a definite article. So, not much wrong with it then :D

Live and be well. H

[PrinceMyshkin]

It was a wonderful, immaculate poem for me - until "recessive" in the last line, which I thought must refer to a flower when it withers, but I couldn't make it be that and didn't see what else to do with it.,

[Delta40]

Dearest friends. Thank you for the thought and time you put into my posts. x

[deryk]

At first glance, I was unsure about the first part with the walks and brothers, but ultimately I decided it was just as evocative of being slowly spurned as the rest of the poem. I also agree with Prince on "recessive", although I still felt the same impact at the end, it does lend itself to finances more than love lost. And although it ties with the rest of the "wealth" terminology, I think you'd be better off shedding it along with the dandruff. There's a lot happening here in a small, rather ornate space. Well crafted.

[liji]

Between these pages
a dry, fragile flower
is pressed to remind me
giving up on you was better than
the lonely walk to your house,
ill wishing my brothers,
speaking constantly
to block out the truth.
You still brushed me away
like dandruff on your shoulders,
crumbs on the bench,
an unwanted stray cat.
I never returned to you
as a sound investment,
an old age pension,
or a high wealth dividend.
My interest dwindled
between these pages
like the fragmented remnants
of a pressed flower.
This tattered book -
nothing more than recessive love.

NICE use of words of domestic use.

[Pensive]

You still brushed me away
like dandruff on your shoulders,

love this one too just like all the rest of yours! :)