#Idiosyncrasies

9 messages · Page 1 of 1 (latest)

versed zealot
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My friend and I, we sat together
and talked about the times.
They looked around, then into my eyes,
then away from our discussion of the weather.
They opened their mouth as if it'd been closed,
"have you noticed both women and men
hide their idiosyncrasies,
but give them away in their prose?"

An old man sat by his lonesome
just a couple of tables away.
He silently sipped and supped his drink,
closing his eyes and tasting the rum.
The man, I could tell he was thinking of
when yesterdays were today.
he looked back at himself, his wife,
both of which, now living above.

A woman talked to a friend of hers,
they laughed and they joked as they played,
but something told me she was afraid
of a result from possible errors.
Her lips, one side was risen up,
the other was low on her face.
Her teeth were barely visible
as if she had used them too much.

Me and my friend, I sat with them,
silently looking around,
and after we were done admiring our town,
it was somewhere around 7:00 p.m.
I had noticed something new in their eyes,
a glimmer I still see today.
It had persuaded me to stay,
we were closer than I'd realized.

warm ruin
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adding an “and” before then into my eyes makes sense in my head

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ooh last lines of first stanzas made sense to a part of my brain i never thought about

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dont think frequently is needed in that second stanza, as in maybe replace it

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me and my friend i sat with them doesnt really make sense, “me with my friends i sat with them”?

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i like the perspective in this poem! Not judgmental exactly, just observations. Read some more of the bell jar earlier and this reminded me of that

versed zealot
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Gotcha, sick - thanks for reading!

narrow portal
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The ending is sweet, and it helps locate the gist of the poem. (Not that it has to have any one message!)

I like the little details that bring you back to the main scene with the friend at the end: 7pm, admiring the town, silence. I think it would be useful to the reader if this looking of the speaker and their friend was introduced earlier, completing the use of this "admiring [of their] town" as a kind of frame tale for the rest of the poem. You could add a line between the first and second stanzas:

My friend and I, we sat together
and talked about the times.
They looked around, then into my eyes,
then away from our discussion of the weather.
They opened their mouth as if it'd been closed,
"have you noticed both women and men
hide their idiosyncrasies,
but give them away in their prose?"

[And as we talked we looked around:]

An old man sat by his lonesome
just a couple of tables away.

There are one or two mysterious lines that trouble/open the narrative here, which is interesting but can be disrupting as a reader. The main one for me is "something told me she was afraid / of a result from possible errors." What are the errors? What makes them particular errors and not just the mass noun, "error"? Where did they occur; are they somewhere in the poem? What was the result? Did I miss something? Those kinds of things. These are less disruptive on a second reading. I love disruption in poetry, but I think this form of multiple narratives or vignettes coming together is best served by a smooth reading experience. And making the errors and their result concrete would give us a satisfying glimpse at a more concrete character.

That said, I am really intrigued by this woman. She seems to be complex: Seeming at first light-hearted, then mysteriously involved in some error, and then a bit menacing—her smile is crooked, and her teeth have been used too much! Since she's also talking with her friend, it creates a kind of dark mirror with the framing characters.

versed zealot