Poem of These Days

Stand within surprising proximity
of the sickly-painted walls
in the toilet room.
Beat your head or simply stare
and philosophize
about the impediment of this moment
as you wonder what’s to come
of your life
once you flush and come out.
You may become a poet
or you may burn
everything that has died in your head -
reverberating
as it resonates with the sudden idea
of freedom from words.
And then you flush
come out
and find yourself
within surprising proximity
of you in the mirror.
You that cares no longer
About the fucking paradise
Where birds once sang.


Рецензии
Zhenya, i hope it's happening just with the LH...
do not feel any russian influence here - looks quite american to my naked eye

burn
everything that died in your head -
reverberating
as it resonates with the sudden idea
of freedom
- roars perfectly. A suggestion (pardon me, i know it is stupid to suggest) to strengthen it even more and get rid of 2 comes:

what’s to become
of your life
once you flush and return:
Be reborn as a poet
or you may burn

or smth like that with this good mix
Altogether very strong!

Валентин Емелин   18.09.2012 15:52     Заявить о нарушении
My comment to the part cited above: tense needs to be looked at . "everything that has died"...
Sorry for meddling,

Галина Иззьер   18.09.2012 23:58   Заявить о нарушении
Thanks lot - will make the change!

Евгения Саркисьянц   20.09.2012 17:02   Заявить о нарушении
I'm glad you liked the piece. I haven't even thought of the roar until you pointed it out. Interesting! I' must have been in the roaring mood. :) Thank you for the comments!

I guess you really like when things rhyme, don't you? :P

Евгения Саркисьянц   20.09.2012 17:06   Заявить о нарушении
not really :)) but that is the latest trend... something amazingly fresh in poetry completely clogged by all these free verses... )))

Валентин Емелин   20.09.2012 20:23   Заявить о нарушении
Latest trend, huh. I'm glad to hear that. The poetry gatherings that I sometimes attend here are not very promising in that sense yet :) Actually, I decided to write this particular poem in the American style deliberately - almost as a grotesque, or even a parody, if you will. Local poetry, produced by the poets I meet personally, in addition to its being "free verse", usually comes out dark, depressing, disturbing, and appalling - sometimes sickening. Maybe it's just my bad luck. But their poetry is never about something beautiful, like love or nature. It is rather about conflict, abuse, offense, and pain. It uses strong language more often than not. It is loaded with social issues such as religion, politics, abortions, etc. And the authors themselves (at least the ones I meet) are usually deeply conflicted, troubled individuals, tattooed head to toe, that have a difficult time fitting into the "normal" life. Read Mandelshtam to these guys - they won't relate. (I tried, although it may be the poor quality of my translations.) No, I'm not saying that their stuff is bad or that they are not "at the level" where they can relate to "our" poetry - and I would hate to be misinterpreted in that sense. It's not about levels. It's about significant cultural differences. So I'm trying myself in their genre, and I have to say it feels refreshing in some strange sense. I have several poems published on this site written in that or similar style.

Евгения Саркисьянц   20.09.2012 22:18   Заявить о нарушении
Zhenya, when I lived in the States (and I need to say, I love the country and people, well, most of them) - I have defined their culture as an "adolescent". Ever since I just get more proofs of it to myself. If you look at it this way - you can tolerate and integrate much, believe me.
And yes, your poem is fitting well! As a parody, I mean

Валентин Емелин   20.09.2012 22:24   Заявить о нарушении