poem: If it Were That Simple

If it were that simple-

     I would write "I'm Sorry"

  by rearranging constellations

           to spell those letters

        across the night sky

             itself.

 

I cannot, because

    you do not exist.

 

but this is how the heart implodes,

        under its own

     internal pressure-

        just like the dying star,

    that has collapsed.

 

Can you not see?

    Your story is your story

  but the parts connected

    at the right atrium

        are my story, too.

 

I guess I only ever wanted

    to merely exist

        in your space;

      even as much as I

 fervently wished

     you would,

some day

     materialize

            in mine.

 

I was never ashamed

    that I once looked

 for messages written

         in stars

   with one such as you.

 

From behind the nebula

    covering the space

  that once held my heart-

 

I am sorry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Through the Gateway]

How do we apologize for those who no longer want us in their lives? It is very easy to wonder if the past even ever existed; the sweetness of that past seems somehow a fantasy we held in our minds.

This poem is filled with the pain and longing to have just that last word of apology heard. Even in its brevity, it has some good iconography within the stars and your heart.

My only critique is that the second stanza seems backwards to me. I would personally feel that you are not allowed to exist, not that the other doesn't exist. This may be subjective, though, so I would perhaps chalk it up to a difference in style.

I read. I acknowledge. I hold.

[Marie Anzalone]

I respectfully disagree, Lonestar. What recourse does one have to explore their own feelings about a person, if that person wants desperately to erase his chapter from your life? So desperately, so wrapped in shame, that breathing admittance of it would destroy the fragile foundation upon which an entire friendsip rests? I was supposed to wrap all of my emotions into a neat little bundle, put on my best smile, and walk forward as if nothing had happened.. because he willed himself to not exist in my life. I have no right to my feelings, or a right to talk about them, because he does not exist. What is denied is therefore as bad as myself not being allowed to exist- an important part of my identity, a part that has been alternately inspired and hurt and supported and destroyed and remade. If soemone wants to learn from a love situation, and move forward as a wiser person, they need permission to examine all of their relations.

I struggled with that portion of it, and chose the wording for impact, and because I felt it was the better choice of words for evincing what I was trying to say.

I appreciate your insight and reviews and yes, your professional critique. It is nice to see you back on site. I think you may find that your voice has been missed more than you might think.

[Through the Gateway]

Thanks. I'll believe it when I see it, though. ;)

Like I said...I think it's more a difference in style. Time may prove me wrong, though. It's still a good piece.

LS

[Marie Anzalone]

I just had a thoughtful review of my newest one... the one that ripped my heart out to write. About my consideration of posting a disturbing video of human cruelty that inspired the poem. The reviewer was in disagreement with me, and had some very valid points. He talked about how the message would be lost on most viewers. My consideration of the truth of his words, was, "it depends on whose story one sees when they watch." I feel the same way, to a far lesser extent, here: the point of view depends on whose story you are focusing on. Mine or his. I am not sure I even know which version prodcues which effect, though.

And yes, I hold by what I said about you. Your voice is missed. I know you wrote today. I encourage you to share it.

[OBWhiteHawk]

This is great, well written and flowing in lovely form, like a river. I really like this part:
I guess I only ever wanted
to merely exist
in your space;
even as much as I
fervently wished
you would,
some day
materialize
in mine

[Marie Anzalone]

Thak you, OB. I am glad you stopped by, and glad too that you liked this well enough to leave behind a review and encouraging words for me. Much appreciated. This poem, like most of my work, describes a real account.

[Rahul]

I was never ashamed
that I once looked
for messages written
in stars
with one such as you.

i loved this stanza, yeah you've great talent even more than me, you this stuff is damn nice and hope you'd love to be with me when i touch the stars...lol :P
that's great write and tight hug...!!100/100

[Marie Anzalone]

wow, thanks for the kind review, Rahul. Be well- you will be missed on site. I am ashamed to look at stars with none of my friends.. you included.

[Rahul]

lol :)
yeah, i know it's too hard to me to leave this site because in a mean time i'm touched with this site and even still i'm not getting myself off from this site indeed.

[Cool Handless Luke]

I was never ashamed
that I once looked
for messages written
in stars
with one such as you.

My dad had this thing he did that I always find myself doing now. It started with a bible but now I do it with any book or magazine that catches my eye. Sometimes it seems like a sign or maybe just serendepitous (new word) and sometimes it's just jibberish but here it is in a nutshell - i pick up the book and maybe a say a quick prayer or just hold an image or person in my mind and then just randomly open up the book and read the first lines that come to me. The hope is that they will somehow reveal something to me. Of course I can't tell you how many times I did this with the bible and found myself reading about somebody's destruction or falling from grace! At any rate, to actually review your work I have to say I agree with your choices here and have found myself feeling much the same on many occasions. What was that thing you did when you asked me questions about the cube? And I saw the horse eating my flowers! lol This is a good piece obviously taken from a page or pages of your heart. Very nice work!

[Marie Anzalone]

LOL Augesten Burroughs wrote about that practice- the family he lived with had a formal name for it, called it "Bible dipping," but they did it a little differently, and selected lines and passages form a randomly opened page... just kind of let their finger fall. I imagine it led to much of the same about plagues and destruction of sorts. I also imagine it would be a lot like using a Ouija board, where you learn a lot about how you actually feel about the other person using the planchette but very little about the question actually at hand. My late friend Dan had a much simpler cariation variation- Occam's razor at work. He said to decide soemthing of utmost importance, flip a coin, and see how it lands. Then see whether or not you are disappointed by the choice made for you. Problem is, this only lets you decide between two choices.

As for the cube.. ah yes I understood that symbolism right away. Did not want to tell you outright that trouble was brewing- figured some things are better left to chance and time. I still do the cube game with people, and am often amazed at the insight I get.

And I am proud to say, in the past 10 years, I have been disappointed and hurt and abandoned suddenly... but never ashamed of anyone I ever made an offer to look, with me, for messages written in stars. I screwed up in other ways, but I have always only considered fine human beings. I am proud of that.

[Alone In A Crowd]

This is just beautiful. Plus I love Physics, it's the path I would love to take. So this poem morphs two of my favorite things into one. I love it thank you for writing it.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, Ms. Crowd. I draw upon a lot of natural and scientific imagery and reference for my work. I find it wonderful to work with the themes and expand them to human lives. I am glad you stopped by. CHL referred me to you, and I will return some reviews when I have better internet access than I do right now at this second.

[Alone In A Crowd]

Thank you very much

[Akshat♥]

I personally don't believe in saying sorry if you don't mean it from heart :)
this poem is filled with lots of emotions..sad yet effective :)
Saying sorry is never simple as it seems...
Lovely write!!

[Marie Anzalone]

You are so right, Akshat, it is never easy, and was never meant to be, either. Thanks for your kind review.

[Akshat♥]

You are welcome dear..check my poems if you get time :)
Take care :)

[soliloquy]

This is beautiful. Very creative and unique.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, soliloquy. I am glad you enjoyed my style in this.

[gombeggar]

talking to the constellations when yer heavy heart has so much more gravity...another lovely weave of words from u

[Marie Anzalone]

I think the very first God human beings ever saw was in the stars, including our very own sun, whcih we could not have known was oen of those stars... half a lifetime of learning and still I want to go back to our roots at times, for there is great truth in small acts of humility

[Mike Emil]

NEVER write 'i'm sorry'
people might mistake you for meaning it!!! HAI!!!

[Marie Anzalone]

mysterious forces abound, even so

[Emily B]

I came and read these words, i was probably so overcome with the stars and the existance and stories that i wandered away without leaving a note

as always, reading your words is like looking in a mirror for me

[Marie Anzalone]

There is never anything simple about an apology, is there? I know from reading one of your works, that you know what it is like to not have the most important ones acknowledged. I fear it is a long road ahead with this person. Maybe some day you can give me pointers on how to fill a hole the size of the night sky, with stars. I could use that.

[Emily B]

one star at a time . . . the same with everything we go to do

[Marie Anzalone]

in such small ways are hugs transmitted across distance with such few words

[Emily B]

He created many hearts so that we might never have to walk alone

[Marie Anzalone]

and still we both know that one can not simply replace one with another... it takes time for a transplant to adjust and grow into its new space when uprooted from its home- our poor hearts are no different, I think. We let ourselves be planted on a mountain and still miss the smell of salt-water.

[Emily B]

oh, but i love the heights, up there with the hawk and the rainbow and the clouds, i can breathe on the mountain, the sun shines nearer, the salt spray is a distant memory now

[Marie Anzalone]

I too am a creature more suited for mountains and forests than actual human living, I fear. But I tell you- like Legolas in TLOTR (book version), I had to beware the seagull's cry, for once I heard it, there was a yearning in my heart for the swelling surface, the passionate depths. The reality behind the salt spray. I am doomed to follow where such yearnings lead, I think. Mountains or shore, I am convinced that if you examine enough rocks, you will find one with treasure. Sometimes we want the sapphire so bad we miss the ruby, or toss aside platinum for having our hearts fixed on gold. Is the key, then, filling the space allotted with small treasures to just carry with us wherever we go? I sure hope so.

[Emily B]

i thought my life was hard until Brandon came into our lives, i am learning just how blessed we really are

[Mark]

Knowing you and your circumstances, I knew instantly...I believe!...what this was about, though there were moments when I thought of at least two others to which parts of it might have applied. That, to me, is the hallmark of an exquisite piece of writing, that the author can take her personal experiences and heartaches, and so selflessly expose and metamorphose them that others can see themselves and their lives-slash-pains in them, and profit or learn from hers. The honorarium (soon, I think, to become a poem!) "Word Chef" just crossed my mind: One who selects, filets, combines, rejects, marinates, and finally bakes a unique casserole of the soul, where any who will may dine to satiation. Bon Apetit, Chef!

[Marie Anzalone]

Ah Mark, I always love it when you grace my page. Thank you for your kind words for my faltering ones. Aren't apologies the hardest things we ever have to face/ do/ give?

This was written for the best friend, in Guatemala, who was inadvertantly hurt by me- and has vowed never to speak to me again.

"Word Chef" sounds wonderful! Please do send me the link when you are done. I would so love to read what your devious creative mind comes up with on that one. I so need the levity rigth now. :-)

[Mark]

Well, now, that's what I get for thinking, as he for whom I had thought it , 'twarn't him a'tall!

[Marie Anzalone]

keeping you on your toes, Mark :-)
nice to see you here. miss you.