This is just a short poetic exercise I had to do for a creative writing class I'm taking this semester. We had to follow the template or formula used by James Schulyer from his book of poems "The Diary". We had to write a "language of the day/prose poem". Here's my attempt at that.
First day of a new waking, to be clear, face forward and eyes open. On Wright Street, iced over, all white, now this street looks like that street, all pot holes and cracks faded gray concrete sit smoothed by the white. But what of the ice? Boots, overcoats, heavy hood draped over hanging head. Intent on destination, walking for purpose. Hot shower (not too long), clean room, mop kitchen, turn up music in my room to drown out noise from upstairs. He’s yelling or she’s moaning, call mom to let her know I do think about her.
Last night on Amy Street (last night worth remembering), An old friend, reshaped by years and absences, sat in a room with a window that didn’t lead to the outside but only to the staircase. He said “If he died and I’m still living, if he’s gone and I can still laugh, then does it matter at all? Why can’t I drive home now, you would laugh again, so does it matter…?” When I finally came downstairs and everyone was standing around in the living room or one of the bedrooms or any other room bent on telling you its purpose, they asked where I was, I told them not to worry.
KT
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5 comments:
that's sick
-lt
i like it, the first part reminds me of the flow to that ABC blackalicious rap.. i dont know why...
its also cool to read the 2nd part objectively, it's very dark and existential, it leaves the reader asking who is the friend? is it poet himself?, did he have an epiphany of a younger more closed minded self stuck in his mind not being able to leave, only to look out the window to the staircase, which could represent unobtainable opportunity for which he could only visualize i dont know im talking out of my ass now ...anyway
but actually knowing exactly what your talking about, the location and the person makes it more personal and a different poem entirely to me, i feel like this is pretty close to what actually happened. as i read it i feel like its cloudy, in the sense of remembering something that you dont really remember
well i tried to give you some real feedback,instead of my usual "that's aewsome man" this was off the top of my head after reading it 2 to 3 times ...actual thoughts (although very obscure)instead of compliments
"an old friend, reshaped by years and absences" damn
wow man, this is real thought provoking. the first part reminded me a bit of "fitter happier" from ok computer. its that sense of the banality in day to day activities. you also described the winter environment and the typical human reaction to it extremely well.
the last half was almost scary, for me anyway. it had a familiar creepiness to it. i think we've all been in that moment with a friend before and there's never really much to say.
gave me chills
brrr
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