"must be a memory that takes place in a mode of transportation, playground, or grocery store." i think it will just be random. but i don't know for sure.
I had my elbow on the arm rest,
my shoulders turned to the window
so Mom wouldn't see.
Tears from the fight stained my cheeks
a cherry color. I saw the carcass
of my dreams strewn out on the battlefield,
bald and exposed. I had wrapped
my heart in chiffon-hope, and with
a simple switchblade, the layers fell off
like old leaves. I had staged my
proposition with care, first unrolling
a backdrop, then stringing together lights.
As I pulled the curtain back, she frowned,
asked if I was crazy. I heard a snap
and everything crashed.
My future-world was reduced to
sharp, blackened glass, splintered wood,
and a flicker.
As she pulled into the driveway,
I sat there in the sticky leather seat,
cracker wrappers at my feet,
wholly defeated.
why do i always write depressing things for my masterclasses? what? anyways. : - ) much love,
emilea
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3 comments:
Emilea. This is beautiful.
It's so beautiful that it doesn't even MATTER if you ruined your interview, because this piece of loveliness surely redeemed you. My favorite bits:
"As she pulled into the driveway,
I sat there in the sticky leather seat,
cracker wrappers at my feet,
wholly defeated."
cracker wrappers= perfect detail to keep the poem grounded, which you needed because this is so dramatic (in a good way). I also really love the way that you use the whole setting-the-stage thing. it's great.
the whole thing is great.
don't be worried.
love
caroline
Because you write depressing very well?
It's so beautiful. And I think the whole point of the masterclass is to throw what you're thinking/feeling onto the paper, and sometimes nervousness translates to sadness in preparation or something along those lines. I haven't quite figured out how to say what I mean, exactly. I'm working on it.
............."I saw the carcass
of my dreams strewn out on the battlefield,
bald and exposed"
ah. Just. Beautiful. It's so strong and powerful and competely embelished...but then weak and heartbroken at the same time. That's pretty much an impossible feeling and moment to capture, and you've done it.
I like that you set up everything first and lay out the whole setting, and I like the ending with the pulling into the driveway and whatnot, but it feels like there is no middle. No story. There is, and I know it, but I'm not sure what the story is. It seems like all setting and falling action to me.
Even with that said, nothing wrong with it. It's a gorgeous fantasmic poem. Don't Fret.
Heather
You're really awesome at giving us an image to go on, you know that? It's like, you took great care to make a set for this play ("I had staged my proposition with care" a great play on words), and you're so excited to unveil it, but your mom is not impressed. And it all comes crashing down. That image is perfect.
My future-world was reduced to
sharp, blackened glass, splintered wood,
and a flicker.
But you were smart and didn't expand and make it the sole image. We have other things to give us a picture. It also helps that you start and end in the same place, in the physical reality of the car.
Another great poem. I miss you.
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