Everything Blue Means (2005)
At night I sleep On blue gingham sheets, I begged for books to teach me Everything blue means, I am Aphrodite, most instrumental, This we know for sure But every time Medea kills Jason I feel a mix of pride and grief. Can you hear my voice? I know you know my cries High and distinct like sharp-edged kites Sound and pitch erratic like butterflies, You ask me "why?" as I scream "why!" I am Ophelia, Cordelia, Juliet, This we know for sure But every time I open my eyes I see myself standing on such a thin line. Can you speak my language? I know you know my tongue You feel everything young about me, You've chased the air from out of my lungs, But not the words from my lips I am Lady Lazarus, This we know for sure But every time I think of despair I think of Ted Hughes. Can you read me? I know you know you want to At times, maybe, you've forgotten to, Just listen to the rings of things, The trebles and lows, the variance of tones, I am Alice down the rabbit hole, This we know for sure But every time I drink you up I shrink before I grow. My Thoughts Today: Here's a weird one! This poem is a great example of the way I used to write. When I first started writing, I had a tendency to be sort of cryptic and this poem is a great example of that. It was like I wanted to write about something I was feeling deep inside, but I also wanted to hide that feeling away. So, attempting to have my cake and eat it too, I would write about something personal in such a way that anyone who read my poetry would have no idea what I was talking about it. I wasn't winning any poetry contests in 2005. Surprise, surprise. That said, I can see in this poem that I was starting to move toward clarity and creating written works that others could read and understand. I started experimenting with some techniques that would later help me to create more readable poems when they were used for a purpose. First off, I created my own form here and I followed it for the most part. Secondly, I went wild with the literary allusions. Allusions have long been one of my favorite literary devices and I use them regularly in my fiction writing. Let's just hope the ones I use now aren't as glaring and awkward as they are in this poem. To conclude, I'd like to mention that I still haven't discovered everything blue means. Nor have I figured out what this poem actually means. It turns out my habit of obscuring my feelings in my poetry has worked so well that I can even confuse myself. However, if nothing else, this poem does prove one thing: I was pretty well read for an 18 year old. Leave a Reply. |
Rachel Boury BaxterWriter: web content by day, fiction by night. Archives
October 2016
Categories
All
|