I sometimes wonder what you would look like
sitting again in the willow up the street.
Would you climb down, as you did,
with your hand full of leaves?
I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder.
Sometimes I wander past the place that we met
and think to myself “I wonder what this
would look like now if she were here with me”.
It’s the beautiful struggle between the past
and what’s left of what I remember.
I still vaguely remember your footsteps
as you came into my room.
The delicate sound of your feet hitting the floor.
I remember the door as you shut it silently behind you.
It always shut as though it hadn’t been opened.
As though your entrance had gone, somehow, unnoticed.
And now I stand motionless in front of the place that we met.
Reliving what parts of the past I still haven’t forgotten.
I sigh and turn away, memorizing the sound
of your footsteps as you follow me home.
*Bump* - well fuckin done. Read for me how a TS Eliot poem reads for the world. The entire feel of this peace it just great but I hate preaching how good and all that. I'll just say I loved it.
To me it sounds like a childhood kind of memory of a girl that you were either good friends with or perhaps boyfriend/girlfriend with, but not in your childhood, in your teen years. Sounds pretty confusing but I guess what I'm trying to say is that it takes place in someones (yours?) teens or your age now of a girlfriend/close girl friend that is no longer around. The memory sounds very childhood-like though for some reason (that probably makes no sense).
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it. If you can, could you explain what it brought to mind for you? What kind of a story did you think it was telling?
I sometimes wonder what you would look like
sitting again in the willow up the street.
Would you climb down, as you did,
with your hand full of leaves?
– A memory from childhood, the person descried is his friend (A GIRL) who has now passed away (Or they had a relationship later on and now they’ve broken up).
I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder.
Sometimes I wander past the place that we met
and think to myself “I wonder what this
would look like now if she were here with me”.
– More reflections. (Beautifully written I might add)
It’s the beautiful struggle between the past
and what’s left of what I remember.
I still vaguely remember your footsteps
as you came into my room.
The delicate sound of your feet hitting the floor.
I remember the door as you shut it silently behind you.
It always shut as though it hadn’t been opened.
As though your entrance had gone, somehow, unnoticed.
– two people shut into a room together, matters how long ago he is thinking, maybe they are still just children or perhaps they are older now in his memories and lovers.)
And now I stand motionless in front of the place that we met.
Reliving what parts of the past I still haven’t forgotten.
I sigh and turn away, memorizing the sound
of your footsteps as you follow me home.
- now alone, footsteps following brings an image of her sprit (so she is dead) or just her memory remaining with him as he leaves their meeting place.
To me it sounds like a childhood kind of memory of a girl that you were either good friends with or perhaps boyfriend/girlfriend with, but not in your childhood, in your teen years. Sounds pretty confusing but I guess what I'm trying to say is that it takes place in someones (yours?) teens or your age now of a girlfriend/close girl friend that is no longer around. The memory sounds very childhood-like though for some reason (that probably makes no sense).
Hm, that's interesting that it came across as a childhood memory.
I sometimes wonder what you would look like
sitting again in the willow up the street.
Would you climb down, as you did,
with your hand full of leaves?
– A memory from childhood, the person descried is his friend (A GIRL) who has now passed away (Or they had a relationship later on and now they’ve broken up).
I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder.
Sometimes I wander past the place that we met
and think to myself “I wonder what this
would look like now if she were here with me”.
– More reflections. (Beautifully written I might add)
It’s the beautiful struggle between the past
and what’s left of what I remember.
I still vaguely remember your footsteps
as you came into my room.
The delicate sound of your feet hitting the floor.
I remember the door as you shut it silently behind you.
It always shut as though it hadn’t been opened.
As though your entrance had gone, somehow, unnoticed.
– two people shut into a room together, matters how long ago he is thinking, maybe they are still just children or perhaps they are older now in his memories and lovers.)
And now I stand motionless in front of the place that we met.
Reliving what parts of the past I still haven’t forgotten.
I sigh and turn away, memorizing the sound
of your footsteps as you follow me home.
- now alone, footsteps following brings an image of her sprit (so she is dead) or just her memory remaining with him as he leaves their meeting place.
Thanks for your thoughts. What I really like this poem is the ambiguity of the ending. Is he reliving a memory of her? Is she dead, and her spirit is following him home?
Another way of maybe looking at it is that there was a seperation, and the return to the willow tree is them starting over, and her following him home is them deciding to try again.
Also, I think "sigh and turn away" is pretty important. Sighs are incredibly ambiguous. Is it a sigh of relief? A sigh of regret? A sigh of disappointment? And the turning away...he turns away from the tree (and then, by implication, her), and then she follows him home. As he attempts to distance himself from her, she continues to stay with him. This opens up a whole different way of looking at it. Is he trying to get away from her, just to continually find himself back at the willow (which in this case would simply represent her)?
Anyway. Yeah. I like all the different ways it can be taken, and like hearing people's thoughts on how it came across to them.
Was this from that poem you showed me with the line:
Sometimes I wander past the place that we met
and think to myself “I wonder what this
would look like now if an airplane crashed into it." ? (Or something like that).
Yeah, that's actually exactly how it went originally. That was from one idea that I had for a poem, and then I decided to mix that together with like 4 other ideas I had had.
Well Pheez, I'm not going to dissect it like I usually do. It's ok, I guess. The mood is the best thing about it. But it really comes across dry, monotone, and listless. It also has no real swing or rythm to it, it just kind of rolls along. It sounds and feels like a spoken word piece. Maybe that was your intention. Just not your best, in my opinion.
Well Pheez, I'm not going to dissect it like I usually do. It's ok, I guess. The mood is the best thing about it. But it really comes across dry, monotone, and listless. It also has no real swing or rythm to it, it just kind of rolls along. It sounds and feels like a spoken word piece. Maybe that was your intention. Just not your best, in my opinion.
Yeah, it was kinda meant to sound like thoughts. Where one word leads to another to another.
I actually like it quite a bit, so fuck you for disliking it. I hate you.
