Grasping the Nettle (re-write of previously posted piece)

[Pete Ak]

Five years old, suddenly alone; in a Childrens’ Home.
He was cared for, as one of many
which crushed his identity
and meant a little boy grew, without self-value.

Eight years later and his mind is full
of self-loathing imaginings, intertwined like bramble.
Dispiriting ideas, as tangled as the hair on his head,
tousled and twisted around barbed-wire thread.

On his sixteenth birthday
one of the makeshift mothers gave him a diary.
A suitable chalice for teenage angst.

He wrote,
“Once, my mind flashed with instantaneous reflections of intersecting rainbows and raindrops.“
A year later, his suicide note read,
“My thoughts feel like thorns, shredding my brain cells into chaos.”
“Right now, I wish I was anyone else and anywhere else other than me, here.”

Survival… treatment and a skin deep recovery.

He was thirty when we met and I learned to respect
the only authentic part of him – his vulnerability.
A lady, who called herself a therapist,
had been clipping and hacking at the metaphoric mess
of brier and thistle. To no avail.
The harder she’d flailed the thicker
his weed-like thoughts had conspired
like refuge-seeking vagabonds.

He reckons the times we walked on Winter beaches,
I taught him trust, and he showed me skimming stones,
and this encouraged him to venture further into refuge
than he would ever have dared, alone.

Yet he then endured his
‘annus excellentium et humilium’.
Tired of stalking redemption,
in a desperate impulse to cure himself (or self-harm?)
He grabbed the strongest bramble,
(representing self-esteem) and
its longest, sharpest prick,
(“invisible, worthless little fuk”)
impaled his palm.
That strongest bough was thick
from a lifetime of self immolation,
yet with skewered hand he drew it hard
from his head via his ear. At least,
”that’s how it felt,” he said.

He pulled the shambles.
Each tearing spike, each razor shard,
(that’s memories and insights),
tore the membranes of his mind apart.
Each revelation, each confessional tear
Brought him lacerating relief.

Now, my man has uncovered all those
self-betraying avowals.
And, though they judge him harshly,
he keeps them close and
confronts them, dauntless -
So he need not endure them again.

[Pete Ak]

Almost a complete re-write, so hoping for feedback

[hillwalker]

If you connected all the lines together it reads as prose. Not particularly coherent prose either. It's a brief essay about someone's experiences growing up in care but there's so much frenetic hyperbole that it swamps whatever you're trying to portray. And I'm finding it impossible to comment on it as a piece of poetry because apart from the penultimate verse it's not really a poem.

Perhaps if you broke it down into smaller scenes and explored each separate one you might succeed in writing something meaningful. But overall there's far too much ground covered for the uninvolved reader to make anything of this.

H

[AuntShecky]

I agree with the previous comment. It seems like prose broken into arbitrary lines. Also, there is little or no consistency in the verb tenses. I suggest one of options: (1) rewrite this
as an essay, in which case it would require well-structured sentences and paragraphs with smooth transitions or (2) try it again as a verse. Option #1 will be more less compact and literal, option #2 less straight-forward narration and more metaphorical suggestions.
Both options mean a "do-over." Sorry.

[Pete Ak]

S**t - back to the drawing board then. thanks for your insights both, I may need to get some distance from this one then re-work it. Any further suggestions welcome.

[Lokasenna]

I think I might need to disagree with Hill and Aunty a little bit - yes, I agree with a few of the issues they raise, particularly in terms of your use of hyperbole.

I do, however, think it works as poetry - there seems to me to be a rough, juttering rythm to it that fits the mood of the piece, and some interesting (and I hope intentional!) use of half-rhymes, assonance and consonance.

It is a bit verbose, and would probably be more effective if shorter, but I think you have some very powerful and provocative imagery here.

[Haunted]

This is not my type of poetry and I wouldn't normally make a comment. But I have a couple of observations and FWIW, I'll leave them with you.

First thing that struck me was "barbed-wire thread". I saw this before, something very similar, in another poem of yours. I liked it the first time, but when I saw it again here, it feels stale. Poetry is creative writing, you need to create, not recycle.

Secondly, the suicide note feels contrived. Words like "thoughts feel like thorns" come across as pretentious. It seems that you are trying to write a poem and come up with a nice simile, when you should really be writing a "suicide note". Things that make people take their own lives — pain, guilt, loss — the whole human condition, are totally absent, and the lack of depth and pathos undermines the whole idea. It's too ambitious to be in an already long poem, I would just lose it entirely.

Children's Home in itself is a worthy subject but I think you are trying too hard yet not enough.

[Pete Ak]

Thank you L, for the reassuring crit... maybe there is something to work on here. Regarding my hyperbole, some of it is deliberate - teenage diary entries often are - are they not? I thought inputting that into the poem would help paint the picture. I have written with mood uppermost here and attempted to convey that especially with half rhymes as you suggest.
I'd like to continue working on this but will give it some time, shortening is going to be difficult but mainly for sentimental reasons rather than composing good poetry!

[Pete Ak]

Haunted: thanks for commenting, particularly as you admit this isn't really your bag. I want to respond because the 'barbed wire thread' image survived the redraft of this piece, I haven't just copied and pasted it from another piece I promise.
Your observation of the diary/suicide note as a contrivance is accurate. I wanted a vehicle, originally to display his angst in his own words, maybe I've used an overwrought vocab in doing that and should focus my attention on it.
I will be very disappointed if readers feel, as you do, that elements of "the whole human condition, are totally absent, and the lack of depth and pathos undermines the whole idea." Obviously my intention is to focus on an aspect of the human condition and how that could destroy an individual and also the possibility of redemption. My ambition as a poet is to master the art of putting concepts like this across poetically. I don't mind that I've some way to go.

[Haunted]

This is the same poem??? My apologies! It bears no resemblance, but I should have gotten a hint from "rewrite" in the title. So the Like for "barbed wire thread" is reinstated, lol. It's a great image, it can hold its own as a poem by itself.

I think the problem I had with the "suicide note" is it's not connected to anything and it's so vague and generic, the lack of such a note would work better and be less distracting. I have trouble with generalities: "Right now, I wish I was anyone else and anywhere else other than me, here.” But WHY? I had the same thought every time I was stranded at some remote train station, it was either frigging cold or sweltering hot and I wish I was anyone else and anywhere else. You see what I mean? Anyone can say it in any given unpleasant situation, and that sentiment does NOT drive a person to suicide. A suicide note in poetry has to be really really powerful as well as situational. There is usually a precipitating event, if so, what is it. Rather than writing a story within a story, you are better off dropping it, or not writing the content at all. Again, that can be a poem in itself. You packed too much into this piece, methinks.

If you are trying to resurrect some old stuff, that's ok, most of us go through that stage, but don't lose sight of what makes a good poem. They are not one and the same. And if you want your poems to be read, then it has to be written with some interest to others, unlike self-centric diary items that are better kept to oneself.

You are doing fine, you have a great learning attitude. Take the feedback that makes sense to you and keep plugging away. One day you'll find your mojo, I have no doubt.