On Being Nineteen

Guess I wasn't liking it.

I

 

Whoever shuffled

did not perform their job properly,

for they dealt me

into the wrong generation.

B******s. Let me go;

release me into an era

in which originality

has not yet become

an impossibility.

 

II

 

The colours here are too bright

and yet dawn so dark.

A glimmer of hope

sparks up only to be extinguished;

crushed like f*g-ends

a moment ago clenched

between youthful teeth,

protected by arrogance

from yellow and black,

and the sting of the finish

when you hadn’t realized you’d begun,

like the exams

“Time’s up everybody”

where you barely managed to

scrawl your own name -

although ownership, like everything,

is debatable.

Things you are given,

consider loaned.

 

Author's Note

This is an old piece, written in 2005. Keeping it around because I'd like to 'fix' it a little, and also because it's kind of cool to chart your own progress.
Let me know any thoughts/suggestions. Thanks.

Reviews

[Bubo]

It makes perfect sense although I felt you could have continued.....ended too soon for me........
The feeling time passes in a time we are not relating too.........

Let me go;

release me into an era

in which originality

has not yet become

an impossibility.

This was very powerful, and of course as we learn we wish for originality, but seem to conform anyway
to the structure set by society.........very few cling to belief they are different and will remain so, like my child, and face head on the opposing forces.........which are many.

[Hedra Helix]

As I was reading it I could tell it was older, or at least different, your voice now is different. {I looked back and at the word b******s was the second that clued me into this. not that I know all your voice but from what ive gotten so far the pace right there felt somehow different;)}

Its quite strong and im sure its edited to your perfection already;) being mature an all. It reads great.

[F. Nazarov]

Yes it makes sense. I totally get you when you talk about being finished before you even knew you had begun. It's like what the heck?
I'm not very fond of this era, to tell you the truth. Yes, I'm somewhat ashamed of my own generation, but what can we do but acept what is given to us. Well, at least the things we cannot change, like when we were born, unless we have sucide on the brain and I think not. Ownership is very debatable. In a sense, (well I think anyways) that the government has a hold on everything. Even your own body, if not claimed by family (death) belongs to them. The poems really make me think: "What has this world become?" Im a history whiz, and the past fascinates me more than my present position.
To most I can really say about this, truthfully, we fucked the world up. People are increasingly ignorant and uneducated, and even the educated turn away if you pay them enough money. The most messed up part is that we have the abilty to change it all, if only we would pay attention.
I think how it ended is just fine, because I think the abruptness off it evokes thinking and pondering, rather had it ended more smoothly I think it would affect how the reader would have analyzed it. I'll be going now, too much off my opinion is deadly. You might start rebelling too :), and then I'll have some explaining to do.

[Samith Pich]

haha i enjoyed reading this one! i was randomly hoping i'd uncover a little gem of a poem and I have! i really emphasize with this poem - 1) I'm going back through some of my old stuff atm, and I mean oooollld! lol. You're writing is still gutsy i see. 2) I wrote poems on a similiar theme, tho needless to say, they weren't this good.

i like the way your personality shines through this poem and some absolutely wonderful images shine through as well - fate the shuffler, the indignant word that says it all 'Barstards'. Hope crushed and extinguished like a f*g end! lol. i don't know if crushed is the word that would best be served tho... tho it more than does the job.

i feel the poem looses a bit of it's tightness in:

a moment ago clenched
between youthful teeth,
protected by arrogance
from yellow and black
and the sting of the finish.

it's a good extension of the image but previously your images were short, sharp sucker punches: 'bright colours/ dawn too dark, the sting of the finish.

i thoroughly thoroughly enjoyed this poem!