today, in my poetry calendar, the poem of the day was "chester" by john koethe (i posted his poem before this one); my dog's name is chester--he was a street dog before he came into our lives, and is troubled, but doing better after 2+ years. there is no way i could have passed up the opportunity to write a response to this poem, so here it is...as always, i ask you to bear with me--i've never done this before now...thank you and be well:).

my response:


3

another day, and then another,
which is how i hope they will come:
with all good and no bad, please
a dog who won’t come near me or
the foot of my bed where dogs usually lie, i hear
not hating , just scared
and i have done nothing to deserve this treatment
or lack thereof , but he avoids me anyway
i know nothing of his memories, but mine are filled
with smiles and the occasional tribulations
i now face the trials, like the dog did before i knew him
he who won’t approach me or the foot of my bed.
we are similar creatures; we are two
to whom things did happen, and we are scared
not that more will happen, but that what happens
might be more reason to retreat
and we need reasons not to retreat
still, we are in constant retreat
but somehow making it from
morning to evening without the anxiety
caused by something we can't name
this is our luxury, and we never take it for granted
we are grateful
even if we can't always show it
and we try never to waste the good time
that others complicate, and we don’t ask “why?”
we often don’t want the answer
it is smarter to remain ignorant sometimes.
instead of running from what we cannot name,
we retreat into ourselves where we are completely
alone, even though we don’t think we wanted that
when we think back on those memories
before we were always scared--
so, we hold them close and know we are not alone.

i see myself in him
my searching eyes attempt to catch his
the cloudy one is the one that bears my reflection
and, as if he knows better, he averts the good eye.
he might just heal himself, if he stays his course
and he doesn’t want to see himself in me.

 

Posted by Alexis on April 29, 2008
Tags: Uncategorized

Total comments on this page: 4

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RG on paragraph 3:

Alexis, This is very nice. On this one, however, I’m going to be more insistent about weeding out some things. The sentence beginning with “it is important to be grateful..” doesn’t sit well with me because poems are not about giving answers, especially when they teeter on the brink of platitudes. Poems are about asking questions and pointing in the direction of, showing glimpses of answers. Plus, your reader doesn’t really need to be told. I would bring it back in with “we often don’t want the answer to “why?” / it is smarter to remain ignorant sometimes / retreating into ourselves where we are completely…

Start a new stanza at “i see myself in him” and possibly again at “the cloudy one…” That last one might be to quick, but I think it will work.

The ending is powerful. Wonderful. Although you might not need the ‘he’ in the last line.

I know my nitpicking might not seem very nice, but I’m being picky here because I think it is worth pushing further.

Keep ‘em coming!

April 29, 2008 11:40 pm
SBW on whole page :

This is such a profound, heart-wrenching poem, that I read it and cry. I love the line: “I know nothing of his memories, but mine are filled / with smile . . . . which connects with the lines: “when we think back on those memories / before we were always scared / so, we hold them close and know we are not alone. The “always” here is chilling — and the final line: “and he doesn’t want to see himself in me” — packs a punch that sets one reeling. This poem should be sent off to a competition. The new Poets and Writers is out — so check out the contests.

Such a strong and fine poem. Congratulations.

April 30, 2008 2:28 am
Alexis on paragraph 3:

no, i appreciate it–thank you!! i suspected it might need a little tightening and to hear this–about the grateful line, that makes sense…but i included it not to provide an answer, rather to give a glimpse into the subject’s mind and how it works…does that make sense? i might do that a little too often–perhaps it does not come across appropriately–i will read over your suggestions again and definitely work on this–thank you!!

April 30, 2008 6:52 am
Vivian on paragraph 3:

I love the concept of a poetry calendar … I will look for one. I think your poem is a strong, artful response to Koethe’s work. I like “we are two / to whom things did happen…” and I like his milky eye. We’ve heard of it before. I think Rob is right about leaving “he” out of the strong finish.

April 30, 2008 4:29 pm
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