|your white volvo broke down in my diary
i was barely ready for the prom
and we both said it was dumb,
but i wanted you to take me.
we could dance like it was disco
your arms would twist and curve
and make me laugh–
your eyes were the best though.
contact was your thing.
when they sat on me
my heart did belly flops into my rib cage.
on a weekend in September
you took me to a college parking lot
and told me i was going to drive.
i said 'get out!'
you said 'no really'
the only thing on my mind
was you and your hands and your face
and your witty wave....
so i let you teach me.
it was the first time i did a doughnut
and became obsessed with time,
clocks bothered me
because they bullied daylight,
reminding me you would go back home
and probably spend the next day
with someone else...
someone prettier, older, someone who
you could see yourself settling down with.
so i wrote in my diary
how i would marry you someday,
even if i had no dress and you no shoes,
i'd be homeless with your hands in mine–
what i dreamed of feeling.
but i grew up some and left you
walking away, down a dirt path in a meadow.
you asked me to come home
and i said i wanted to stay–
giving my heart a bloody lip,
as you never looked back.
"you can't fight destiny"
you told me ten days later on a pay phone,
while snow invaded my face.
rushing our slight reunion with
a silent sob, my reply went something like
"i just did"
shivering with the static
that came next.
12 Nov 13
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Beautifully written. I always look forward to reading your words.
You had me from the very start - a really powerful piece.
I think you just gave my heart a bloody lip. I'm leaning back in my swivel chair trying to figure you out. Whoever he was you didnt talk about him much,.
^ i never spoke about him because i didn't want to. :)
thanks, clupe and clickclack.
Nice, pome Mand.
LOVE this one! Love the title TOO! :-)
nobdy drives a volvo
in 1991 they did
nice -- a very mature write mandEE -- a multi-layered lost love piece where were always in the middle of things with you and you're always tripping over your authentically wry wit in it -- a piece you ought to pursue in publication if your bent that way ... well wrought with the bloody lip 'n all
wow, thanks Alch!
thankyou for sharing your wrought-out ramblings in which my meaning-making takes a rest and instead, and with great expectation, I surrender to how you 'fess-up and down and around yet always with a wry wit in it ... it's bright and echoes the numinous in-us, the eunia, the bright language of connecting with each other, authentically friending
eunoia = eunia whoops I mis-spelled again, but I , ahem, 'meant' well in the end
these are my intertextual-fugues, eh
"everything was beautiful and nothing hurt" is engraved on a tombstone
One of your best. Damn him.
thanks again alch. (but i won't have a gravestone. i'm going to be cremated and flushed.) :-D
but if i were to have a gravestone i think i would like to have it say "don't come talk to me, i'm dead"
What kills you only makes you long
Sad and good. I like lines 11 and 23 the best.
But it's all very good mandolyn.
9, thank you
I like the part where the homeless people farted.
^ you must be thinking of swamp donkey
this is fantastic. Love 25-26.
This is just WOW..it has it and even though it has might benefit from some prunung to make it so razor sharp it cuts the eye balls of the reader
thanks larry and sunhands. my husband just walked over and read it and i said "you don't like it do you" and he said "everything you write sounds like its about justin" -- an old friend of mine and friend of his at one time. i told him i take pieces of lots of things and make it a poem. but he he's like "meh"
(what is strange is he likes lyrics in songs, and the lyrics he likes are GOOD, poetic. i should tell him that and ruin his day. hehehe)
it's nice to hear you guys give me honest critique. that is all i want. :)
p.s. this one is about that friend. all of it. and it's true. all of it. it happened. but i avoided explaining that. now i feel wrong all over. but it's not like that. ...
ok, let's bury this.
Who's Justin? Hyde?
no, not hyde. i don't know that guy. this is a friend of mine from a long time ago. i only have like 5 poems about him on here. lol. so that is why it makes no sense that my husband said that.
anyways, it matters not. :)
His white stallion galloped through your virginity, his parking lot snowed all over your face, and a white volvo,'verb tensed-' like a kegel, all over your diary - Now your pages are stuck together, your diary is protein pasted paper mache, and your static shivering is like an oral fixation. Get a job.
^ actually, it was nothing like that. but that was funny.
Is this poem what you want?
what do you mean? is it formatted and worded the way i want?
What is your point.
^ that we can fight destiny. duh.
didn't mean 'duh' in a bratty way. just that, obviously i decided i shouldn't go down that path with him when all i wanted in life was to go down that path with him.
An interesting title.
your poetry is escapist. You are searching your past for a tangent to your present, a choice that you, now, think that you should have made, then; meanwhile... still like it though.
^ you nailed it. escapist. yes. that is me. :-/
"what i dreamed of feeling."... o my gosh - what a line!
pretty slick poem. 10ers. I feel for the guy a little bit, and you. *cough* its just cigarette smoke in my eye
I love this poem so much and especially love your title.
Ah, so crushing!
holy fuck all. this is incredible. i am lame for dumb comment. but i have to reread it again and again. this makes me think of memories and has jarred me in or out of reality for a moment.
WOW... I was a graduate that same year!!
Fantastic! Vivid, and visceral.
yup .Freaking great.
I am not in love with this. I have a similar story, everybody does, but it was to specific for me to lose myself in it. But I digress into the small minority I am on this.
handbags absurd to resist.Well, [url=http://voices.com]dior[/url]
women with their intrepid souls... sry my girlfriend left me, but if only Don Quixote had a girlfriend.
Equality. the world is going to shit and some dome bitch is worried about her virginity.
Sorry Rosinante- should I?
past tense ending in future tense...
Just wonderful ....
wow! i love how you'd recounted the events and ended so heartbreaking.
People have congregated and said that you are great. Is it over now? Have you achieved ultimate happiness and goals with this poem?
idk every time i come on here and i see the title alone from this poem i think wow this is what poetry is supposed to be ive read this ish many times since it was posted nd i just wanted 2 thank u for writing it. most importantly for sharing it too.
after several readings, this is a nice story but it's just a story. there's so much passive reaction and fear in this, in spite of its being so brave... things you say. but, if it were that brave, you'd have said it to his face, not written it on the back wall of your cleaning closet. 'shivering with static' -- obviously, you need some kind of mental fabric softener to make life smoother. probably, you don't look for that kind of thing in poetry. it shows.
Goddamnit! Your volvo is still broken down in my lawn.
cadmium, I am convinced you are the personification og Ignatius J. Reilly. I say that, with a plethora of love. I want to meet you. I want to live in the same city as you, and hang out with you once, or twice a month.
^ugh, poorly written. Forgive me, it's hot.