bearstache
Poem with Annotations
In exchange for telling me how I will die, I offer this annoted poem - an explanation of perhaps the most personal & confusing of my writing.
Elysium [This poem was named for a girl I know, 'Elyse.' She is the she who wrote the letter at the beginning & ending. It was a real dream.]
She says "I love him - does he know why I do?" I don't.
I [The section numbering is off a bit - The first 2 are dedicated to different girls, but 3 spills into several & 4 spills into being about all of them]
A girl (a fourteen-year old I had a crush on) was calling
herself a failure. I wanted to tell her that she wasn't, but everything
I thought of to say was no good - I knew.
[This broke my heart. She was strong & I couldn't even tell what she was struggling with; I didn't know her well because I was older & didn't want to give her undue attention.]
Another girl talked to her. I couldn't
hear what they said, but the first girl thanked
the other as she wiped her eys. I wished
it had been me. I wished that I'd had the words
to show her. And nøw I wish
someone had said them †ø me.
[This poem is a lot about my resistance to expressing what I actually feel for people.]
II
The world is ending. I can see it in the sky.
It hovers there, the end of our everythingm
ponderous and ç®återed and red, the false
meteor of our destruction. Before it can ƒall
I kiss her - Andy. Her name
is Belinda.
[another sequence of dreams
I fell in love with Andy when I was 7. She isn't real. Years later, I found out in another dream that her name wasn't even what she had told me.]
"Don't call me that."
I've never been given much of a choice,
have I? when it comes to it.
I try to hide but wake up. I was hiding all
along, but could I håve
prevented it? Was it my
fualt? That world
has ended.
[Usually I dream of people I know. But I never knew Andy outside of dreams, & I haven't seen her in years.]
III
I knock her
wallet out of her pocket. She says
"pregnant juice" and I promise [odd conversation, that one was]
that when I use it I'll leave a footnote
to mark that it's hers. She knows
that I'm lying. She's the only one
who has willingly gotten into my car twice.
[The car had basically no seatbelts or safety features. Some people chose to walk home rather than ride in it.
Dreams, natch]
My worlds have ended
every morning for years. I get the call
"gone missing" and I run to check my car. The only thing
in there is the water bottle which couldn't be hers. I have
to say, "Not here. Maybe
it fell out
of your pocket." I can make
the world end.
[When she went back tø cøllege, this water bottle was in my car. I don't remember why that mattered to me.]
Others do. They end them
one at a time, they smother, they choke
they torture laugh burn. They do it
without hate. They do it because they didn't
pause to think. One life
can stop so many.
[I am horrified by the murder of girls, & horrified by people who can't fathom the extent of life in other people.]
"Llama kill me last." They call me llama.
[This refers to a game I was good at - we called eliminating players 'killing.' & Elyse inexplicably called me Llama.
In a story I wrote a witness to a murder develops PTSD & in order to talk about what he saw at all, develops a mental picture of the victim that looks different than the actual victim.
2 characters from my stories, & 1 real murder victim from my town. I have this image of her murder that won't go away, but of course I don't know how it really happened.]
I see her, blonde-hair-black-hair-Sarah-Maria-Kelly,
on her knees, every time. I'm not sure
if that's how it ended. Bang
is such an insufficient noise for it. I've heard it
called thunder, but it reminds me of firecrackers. [true]
Fire-crack-her.
I barely know her.
[bad joke]
I tell rebecca "life" because
I feel Rebecca's death.
[I wonder how much my love of people is based in fear of their loss.]
"My goal is to live forever - so far so good."
Cue laugh track.
[bad joke. Cue laugh track
don' think too hard, I guess.]
IV
I know how I want it to end.
[St. John, Ch. 15, verse 13]
But when you blush I can't see your freckles. It makes your eyes look green.
[nonsense lines. I have a girl in mind, but she had no freckles hidden by blush, & I believe her eyes were always green.]
People say I look calm. I was never able to show you
[This is true. & I look calmest when I am the most upset.]
how I feel.
[Which this whole poem is supposed to be, & isn't.]
Was that what you wanted - never
to have a chance?
[Directed at both Andy/Bellinda & myself.
I dream often of the end of the world, but in this case the missiles were stopped. The letter was never meant to be opened.]
I dream that we survive, all of us,
and she takes from me the letter I haven't opened
and reads it aloud: "I love this boy.
Does he know why?"
[Actually, I think it said 'I love this boy. Does he kow why I do?' I woke up before she could tell me.]
THings must begin before they can end. Things
begin to end. Things begin.
End. [I really should take this off & leave it implied.
This poem is also, of course, named for paradise - Elysium. But for me, in my dreams, paradise does not come after death, but in the days & hours when we all know we are to die, beause in those hours the gains of hurting people & hiding from them are taken away, & there really is nothing to fear.
The irony of the deep obfuscation of this poem is not lost on me.]
Poem with Annotations
In exchange for telling me how I will die, I offer this annoted poem - an explanation of perhaps the most personal & confusing of my writing.
Elysium [This poem was named for a girl I know, 'Elyse.' She is the she who wrote the letter at the beginning & ending. It was a real dream.]
She says "I love him - does he know why I do?" I don't.
I [The section numbering is off a bit - The first 2 are dedicated to different girls, but 3 spills into several & 4 spills into being about all of them]
A girl (a fourteen-year old I had a crush on) was calling
herself a failure. I wanted to tell her that she wasn't, but everything
I thought of to say was no good - I knew.
[This broke my heart. She was strong & I couldn't even tell what she was struggling with; I didn't know her well because I was older & didn't want to give her undue attention.]
Another girl talked to her. I couldn't
hear what they said, but the first girl thanked
the other as she wiped her eys. I wished
it had been me. I wished that I'd had the words
to show her. And nøw I wish
someone had said them †ø me.
[This poem is a lot about my resistance to expressing what I actually feel for people.]
II
The world is ending. I can see it in the sky.
It hovers there, the end of our everythingm
ponderous and ç®återed and red, the false
meteor of our destruction. Before it can ƒall
I kiss her - Andy. Her name
is Belinda.
[another sequence of dreams
I fell in love with Andy when I was 7. She isn't real. Years later, I found out in another dream that her name wasn't even what she had told me.]
"Don't call me that."
I've never been given much of a choice,
have I? when it comes to it.
I try to hide but wake up. I was hiding all
along, but could I håve
prevented it? Was it my
fualt? That world
has ended.
[Usually I dream of people I know. But I never knew Andy outside of dreams, & I haven't seen her in years.]
III
I knock her
wallet out of her pocket. She says
"pregnant juice" and I promise [odd conversation, that one was]
that when I use it I'll leave a footnote
to mark that it's hers. She knows
that I'm lying. She's the only one
who has willingly gotten into my car twice.
[The car had basically no seatbelts or safety features. Some people chose to walk home rather than ride in it.
Dreams, natch]
My worlds have ended
every morning for years. I get the call
"gone missing" and I run to check my car. The only thing
in there is the water bottle which couldn't be hers. I have
to say, "Not here. Maybe
it fell out
of your pocket." I can make
the world end.
[When she went back tø cøllege, this water bottle was in my car. I don't remember why that mattered to me.]
Others do. They end them
one at a time, they smother, they choke
they torture laugh burn. They do it
without hate. They do it because they didn't
pause to think. One life
can stop so many.
[I am horrified by the murder of girls, & horrified by people who can't fathom the extent of life in other people.]
"Llama kill me last." They call me llama.
[This refers to a game I was good at - we called eliminating players 'killing.' & Elyse inexplicably called me Llama.
In a story I wrote a witness to a murder develops PTSD & in order to talk about what he saw at all, develops a mental picture of the victim that looks different than the actual victim.
2 characters from my stories, & 1 real murder victim from my town. I have this image of her murder that won't go away, but of course I don't know how it really happened.]
I see her, blonde-hair-black-hair-Sarah-Maria-Kelly,
on her knees, every time. I'm not sure
if that's how it ended. Bang
is such an insufficient noise for it. I've heard it
called thunder, but it reminds me of firecrackers. [true]
Fire-crack-her.
I barely know her.
[bad joke]
I tell rebecca "life" because
I feel Rebecca's death.
[I wonder how much my love of people is based in fear of their loss.]
"My goal is to live forever - so far so good."
Cue laugh track.
[bad joke. Cue laugh track
don' think too hard, I guess.]
IV
I know how I want it to end.
[St. John, Ch. 15, verse 13]
But when you blush I can't see your freckles. It makes your eyes look green.
[nonsense lines. I have a girl in mind, but she had no freckles hidden by blush, & I believe her eyes were always green.]
People say I look calm. I was never able to show you
[This is true. & I look calmest when I am the most upset.]
how I feel.
[Which this whole poem is supposed to be, & isn't.]
Was that what you wanted - never
to have a chance?
[Directed at both Andy/Bellinda & myself.
I dream often of the end of the world, but in this case the missiles were stopped. The letter was never meant to be opened.]
I dream that we survive, all of us,
and she takes from me the letter I haven't opened
and reads it aloud: "I love this boy.
Does he know why?"
[Actually, I think it said 'I love this boy. Does he kow why I do?' I woke up before she could tell me.]
THings must begin before they can end. Things
begin to end. Things begin.
End. [I really should take this off & leave it implied.
This poem is also, of course, named for paradise - Elysium. But for me, in my dreams, paradise does not come after death, but in the days & hours when we all know we are to die, beause in those hours the gains of hurting people & hiding from them are taken away, & there really is nothing to fear.
The irony of the deep obfuscation of this poem is not lost on me.]