Sleeping in Your Bed

[Jack of Hearts]

delete

[symphony]

This is so delicate. And, of course, suntouched. Lovely, Jack.

[Haunted]

There's a sense of loss, poignant and sweet at the same time. I just feel there's some needed tightening, there seems to be a bit too much sun: suntone, suntouched, and suntone again. I think you are in California too long :)

[Jack of Hearts]

Thank you both for reading. Some edits have been made (it's a hard poem to put down).






J

[Hawkman]

There's a lot to like about this poem, Jack. but there are, or so it seems to me, some odd word choices. The first is "proportioned" in S2. You then go on to describe postion or attitude. perhaps positioned would have been better. Proportioned give an impression of deformity.

In S4 "yet, for bodies" is a really odd expression. and doesn't really flow coherently from the preceeding lines. "now there is only me" aloneness is what you wish to convey. You could refer to the impression/outline in the bed as an empty mould.

"I've never lay in sweetness
as it's ever come again;"

is a bit incomprehinsible as well as being grammatically suspect, so I'd suggest tweaking it.

I get what you were aiming for with the last two lines but if you want it to work well, id suggest trying to fix it so that they come in order and exactly match elements from the preceding stanzas. To be honest though I don't think you need it. It's a bit too much alliteration and assonance to end the poem with.

Sill, it's very evocative with vivd images.

Live and be well - H

[Jack of Hearts]

Thanks as always, Hawk. Sorry you didn't find it up to par. As usual, the author cleary sees the points you've raised now.






J

[hillwalker]

This starts well - and 'proportioned' is presumably meant to imply her head is a little too large - her body not yet fully developed.

But I'm with Hawk querying the couplet I've never lay [lain?] in sweetness/as it's ever come again nor can I figure out what 'yet, for bodies,/only me.' is supposed to mean...

... and the closing couplet is sibilant-overload - reading as if it was bolted on at the end to inject a little extra alliteration.

With some tweaking you have something here - it's just not quite the finished article yet.

H

[blank|verse]

Yes, you can feel the emotion underlying all this, Jack, but some of the language lets the emotion down (see Hawk's and hill's querying of words like 'proportioned' ('positioned', perhaps?) 'for bodies', etc.).

I'm not sure why there is a two-line stanza break before 'tilted sideways', and don't see why that shouldn't just be attached to the rest of the preceding stanza.

But I like the repetition of the question, which gives the poem a nice cadence, and comes back to the narrator's care and concern for his lover.

[Jack of Hearts]

Thanks, guys. The author is really going to think about this. He's yet to revise a poem, instead preferring to accept the state of each one and move on to the next because it seemed better for learning. But for some reason, there seems to him a great opportunity for learning here, maybe...







J

[Jack of Hearts]

Just cannot do it. The scent is too far gone. Thanks for the advice, everyone- the author tries to remember your points as he composes each new piece so as to avoid similar pitfalls but editing (even an admittedly flawed piece) feels too unnatural after a certain amount of time has passed.








J

[Jerrybaldy]

love you just the way you are Jack. worry not.

[Buh4Bee]

Jack, I read this several time too and didn't comment, because I couldn't articulate my criticism. There was some strange phrases and I just couldn't get the feel of it the moment. The scene, the lady, were just too distant- it was as if you didn't let the reader into the intimacy of the moment. But you said it was hard to write.
Thanks for sharing.

[Jack of Hearts]

Well, thanks for reading you two.

This reader can write a stinker as good as anybody, he guesses.







J

[Alexander III]

Great form, every word is so very well placed and the lines and breaks and rhythm is like a musical demonstration of style and harmony. The form is fantastic. But then beneath the form I see something static, this poem while I know it is gentle lacks that human aspect to it. It's passions seem mechanical, the form is a beautiful machine but the emotions and passions of the poem should not feel like machines. If you get what I am saying? It is hard to express. Ironically.

[Jack of Hearts]

Thanks for reading, Alexander III, and for being kind to it.






J

[AuntShecky]

In this late day and age, it's difficult to write a love poem without covering
territory that hasn't been totally mapped out before. Each time we try to create one, we have to break new ground. I'd say this one makes an earnest attempt.

The closing couplet with its "s" sounds is the best part of this piece.

Grab your dictionary and look up the conjugation of "lie" meaning to recline.
The line "I lay within the sheets" If it's intended to be past tense, it's correct, but if it's supposed to be present tense it should be:
"I lie within the sheets."

The other line should be "I've never lain. . ." though.

[Apostrophe]

I love it all. One of those poems where you not only see the light, but feel and taste it... Beautiful ending. Fantastic poem.

[Jack of Hearts]

Yikes Aunty. This wasn't meant to be a love poem. This reader suddenly feels like a tremendous failure. But thanks for reading and pointing those things out.


And thanks Apostrophe for your kind words. And welcome to the boards- the reader looks forward to sharing them with you.

Something about this whole thread is begining to feel like writhing on a stake after being impaled lol. But thank you all for reading and offering such good feedback. Something about this one is weird and the author needs to process what you all have said as well as his own feelings about his effort. This one is strange.






J

[Jack of Hearts]

The author cannot put this one to rest. It's been edited if anyone cares. It's ok if you don't. It might be more about obsession at this point than anything.






J

[DocHeart]

Did I kick the covers?
Your scent must have lingered
upon each cotton thread.

I remember suntones
in your hair as you
sat upon your bed;
your head proportioned
like a child's,


tilted sideways,
eyes inquiring.


Did I strike your pillow?
I traced between the sheets
the shape of your ident,
and we slept cheek to cheek;
yet, one body, only me.

I remember, like dark honey,
the amber of your skin.
With every taste of sweetness
you're watching me again;


suntoned, stricken, spiraling
and shining eyes, inquiring.

Dear Jack,

I'm on my second scotch, so this feels like the perfect time for an alternative interpretation. Not that I feel brilliant or anything -- after all, you have already shared that this wasn't meant to be a love poem.

Why stricken? Why spiraling? What happened to the girl? Am I right in thinking there's something sinister going on here, or was the tuna I had for lunch even worse than I thought? Traced her shape between the sheets? With white chalk, I bet!

I found this very enjoyable to read. Your words come gently and smoothly, as they should in a love poem. The ending feels particularly soft - "inquiring" is such a mellow word to pronounce if you forget its meaning for a second. It purrs. But between the lines are clear hints that something bad has happened here.

It's an exciting poem, worth several repeat readings, and thanks for sharing.

DH

[Bar22do]

I read it hastily because midnight is overtaking me; but it is strong enough for me to mark it as one to read again tomorrow. I agree with whoever suggested some tightening. More later... be well, Bar

[Jack of Hearts]

Ok. It's back again. Maybe a day or two will go by when the author doesn't think about this 'poem that got away.'

Anyways, the inspiration for it is pretty literally taken from the title. Someone else once offered her bed for the author to sleep in as she didn't plan to be at home that night and the author was visiting from out of town (nowhere else to sleep). A charming enough girl, beautiful and lived live with warmness and enthusiasm, but the author was going through a really 'Kantian' phase of his own life and was pretty judgmental of her for her music/partying/drinking (despite her 'reaching' for him in many ways). In another thread, it was well said that there's a price to pay for living that way. So part of the poem is about having intimacy forced on you, especially when you're set on distancing yourself. It's pretty intimate, sleeping in someone else's bed. Part of the poem is an apology- she's a stranger now, so it's rather deaf in that way, but the author, as he gets older, is finding he cares less about rules and more about people. The reference to the child's 'head' was two fold- she was really slender and it kind of really looked that way (lol) and also, at the time, one of the judgments the author made about her was that she was really immature for going out to frat parties/listening to music too loud/dancing too freely/living too much like a healthy human being. At the time the author viewed living as a child as a bad thing- now he has a certain respect and reverence for a child's perspective. So at the time of actually seeing her and thinking she looked/lived like a child, the author would've seen it as a bad thing. But from a retrospective reading of the poem, the author sees it as a good thing (and he intended to put both of these readings into this poem, 'then and now,' though it doesn't seem he's succeeded in communicating it).

Anyways, that was cathartic. It may have made the poem worse, though, explaining it. So sorry about that. Poem explanations suck.






J

[Jack of Hearts]

Here's an analysis of the intended reading... which isn't to say any of the other readings you all made were wrong, or that you should like the poem if you didn't before. You should just be you and do everything like you already do. But read this damn thing if you're at all curious.


Did I kick the covers?
Your scent must have lingered
upon each cotton thread.

The first line is meant to express an element of unrest/raging. This poem relies upon knowledge of its title, though, before you start reading it. So by now, ideally, we should know that the narrator is in someone else's bed and something is not quite right. The second and third lines are meant to indicate intimacy but also imply physical absence of whoever normally sleeps in the bed (the beds owner). Her scent 'lingers' and the narrator detects it even though she isn't there.


I remembered suntones
in your hair as you
sat upon your bed,
head proportioned
like a child's,

A bit of a shift in the narrative as the poem moves to an even that presumably occurs before the narrator sleeps in the bed. 'Suntones' is a physical descriptor (tied to the author's sense memory when he composed the poem) and also trying to hint that this memory was before sleeping in the bed, before nighttime ('sun' being of the day). 'Head proportioned like a child's' is also sense memory of an actual event, but also is meant to imply innocence or naivete, which will relate to the next line greatly.


tilted sideways,
eyes inquiring.

The bed's owner seems to be asking something of the narrator... perhaps too loosely linked to the first stanza, but this question is meant to be along the lines of 'Why are you raging?' or 'What is it about you that rages (and will cause the unrest evidenced in the first stanza)'? And her warmth, acceptance/patience with the narrator as well as genuine lack of understanding is meant to be implied here as well.


Did I strike the pillow?
I lay between the sheets
tracing where you'd slept
our outlines cheek to cheek
yet one body; only me.

First line is meant to give the poem a bit of added structure (repetition of 'question/stanza' construction) as well as reiterate the unrest/raging. It's also meant to imply that the rage/unrest is directed at the bed's owner in some way. The rest of this stanza is meant to imply/fortify something curious about the narrator, the intimacy of sleeping in someone else's bed, and the lack of physical presence of the bed's owner. This is presented as the narrator tracing the spot where the bed's owner would normally sleep if she were there.


I remember like dark honey,
the amber of your skin-
I've never lain in sweetness
like it's ever come again,

suntoned, stricken, spiraling
and shining eyes inquiring.

The narrative focus is intended to take form in this last part- the poem is being told retroactively, in the past tense and in memories at some parts. But the narrator is presumably in the present, and aspects of the poem are bent toward how he might feel now- and the author intended to express that the narrator feels sorry about his rage/unrest/whatever now.

There's probably a bit more analysis in terms of what the author tried to accomplish to be done, but it's hardly worth stating at this point. Perhaps this poem missed the mark because it requires too much context before hand, or there were some overly complex decisions made in composing it, or it just needs to be more simple, more about 'one thing' altogether. Maybe it's just too personal.

Its author has never studied poetry and is a beginner so he can't claim to know what he's doing here. Hopefully writing all of this will put this goddamn poem to rest in his own mind.








J

[Twota]

I love it lots :/

[hillwalker]

There's a lot of thought gone into this poem - and into the analysis. You've obviously discovered things about yourself and how you judged your friend's lifestyle whilst writing the piece that still plague your subconscious.

One thing you learn as you get older is that you forgive youth more and more - I suppose it's a case of being able to accept we were all young once (or envy that age is catching up on us all).

H

[Jack of Hearts]

Well you're absolutely right hill, but the personal aspect of this poem is conclusively over. It hangs on because to the author it 'sings' and to a reader it doesn't seem to. That's an interesting result, and this one has been torn down and completely built back up and it ended up being the same way (the author has alternate versions of every verse now).

So something is going on here. Maybe being too close to material makes it bad to write about? Dunno. Maybe it's a fine line between a subtle reading and an impossible one.







J