Paint a Picture/Paint That Picture As You Go

I'm working on a collection of poetry rewritten from my teen years-ON A DARE. The aim is to produce a reference to improve a poet's writing by using my own poetry as an example.

This first poem is one I wrote when I was sixteen about a boy I was crushing on in school.  After reading it, I found it horrible...just...HORRIBLE!!  The run-ons, the...just...everything about it cries 'teen angst' and begs the question 'What was I thinking!?'  *cringes*  As embarrassing as this is, I still loved to write and it is part of who I used to be, I can't hate too much on that.  I'm keeping the grammar as is in its raw form.  It does age me quite a bit though o_O

The subsequent poem, is a rendition of the first from my adult perspective.  I wrote it more as a response to the first, which is an interesting tactic to use if you have writer's block and can't seem to think of what to write about.  Just take an old poem from years ago and write a response to it.  It's a fun exercise and it's sure to get your creativity flowing!  Enjoy, and I sincerely hope to receive a few reviews, if you all would be so kind. 

         

Paint A Picture

September 18, 1997

Julie Zell (my maiden name)

 

Painting a picture of what was to be, a closeness to regularity

Afar from superiority.  A conscience of value unknown, unkempt, But the great waterfalls of knowledge quench my

thirst of love and understanding.  Seeming so uncaring that I paint another picture of vacant mirages of what I so longed to set free.  Free of the binding shackles that vanquishes all the possibilities of lifelong development and shuts out the means of hearing the words spoken out with such inflection that even when I hear his name, I shake, quiver, roll out into my insignificant shell of what I wanted to be a part of, which is his

social  allure.  But seven days so this happened and the laws of gravity took effect and sent my bleeding heart into a magnificent whirl, plummeting endlessly down to the forsaken earth where I was to dwell in the midst of her shadow.  And echo of feelings oversweeps me as I see you alone with a head aflame in luxury, withstanding all the absences of me.  What is to be in my inmost desire?  Configuring the way my life would be, if only you were in it.  Sharing life’s experiences as they are randomly thrown at us.  But so knowing, so much bleeding pain swallows me in the rich chocolate waterfall that’s so sweet to the taste that I cast aside the buried light deep inside of me and paint a picture of what is to come of me in my dreary lifescapes.  As the table turns and looks at you and threatens to cherish you for all her dying days.  The walker walks in a revebrado tempo and that’s all that happens until the end of lunacy.  Deducting the practices of anything, whichever comes to me from behind.

Paint That Picture As You Go

March 2014

J. V. Stanley (response)

 

Is there a regularity

to that superiority you so desire?

You know your values,

and your value…

why view them with contempt?

My dear child,

you know nothing of this love-

this longing.

What you do know is the great waterfalls

of hormones

and that thirst for love you crave

is quite the undertaking

and the pain it causes

may just in fact lead you to

the undertaker with how vicious it can be.

 

You paint a picture of what you long to set free

and what is that, my child? 

Would you really want to cut out that development

like a splinter-

use the razor’s edge to gouge your flesh

despite the thick callous

that will inevitably make you stronger

but not hard.... 

Sometimes what you so desire

is what you’ll never receive

and in that respect it’s not all

that it’s cracked up to be.

You hear words spoken with inflection-

those who say ‘I love you’

like they’re ordering dessert from the menu-

and you continue to hear them

whisper

‘I love you’.

Even through adulthood

you hear the same

but neither they nor you

grasp the concept

of what love truly means;

they’re just words until actions are met

at the crossroads.

You desire acceptance

but haven’t the vaguest conception

of what acceptance is

because as it is right now

you don’t accept yourself.

 

That insignificant shell?  The poet in you?

That is your life, why crawl away from it

in contempt of yourself?

In embarrassment?

Embrace it-

you are wonderfully awkward;

a dreamer who configures words into

stretches of run-on sentences

and grammatically imperfect imbalances

of unpredictable strains of emotion

that coagulate into the mess you call

poetry.

 

Seven whole days

you’ve crushed on this boy

and allowed yourself to break

your own heart

because he, like the rest

are unattainable.

They will remain consumed with themselves

and that damnable ‘social allure’. 

You fell to the wayside of their attention

and neither your words nor poetry

will gather their broken pieces

and arrange themselves within your heart-

for at this point

they don’t have one

and therefore, cannot mend yours.

 

To you, language takes over the stupidity of youth.

Jealousy consumes you-

it’s like a disease that rots the core

because my dear child,

love will come in all due time

for it to be true, you must

patiently wait and learn to recognize it

when it b***h-slaps you into reality

 

It’s not until you get older

when you realize that love is not living

in someone else’s shadow;

love is sacrifice and acceptance.

Love is unconditional

and my dear, love at your age

has its conditions.

Young love is not a constant

nor an anchor to hold you in place;

it wavers like a branch on a tree

as the wind passes through it.

The leaves rustle

and as they adjust

and descend-

attention is garnered for different leaves

as they begin to fall.

I can see you standing beneath it

caught within the autumn colors

and your attention is at a deficit;

there are too many to see,

so stop shaking that damned tree!

Stop watching those leaves fall!

If you wait, a seed will descend

and from it will grow

something new,

meant only for you.

 

That echo you hear? 

It’s your common sense telling you

that although you are alone now,

love will find you in its due course-

and that feeble attempt you made

to configure your life

and imagine how it would be

is nothing but a shadow of dreams

of wants, not needs.

And life as it so happens

will come careening in its unexpected ways.

 

He’s fine without you,

why are you in pain?

My child you have no idea

what pain is,

especially regarding the train wreck

relationships that are headed your way.

Go ahead and paint that picture,

but paint it as you go,

and watch and learn from that

light at the end of the tunnel

for it will run you over

a dozen and a half times

until you

learn from those mistakes-

and learn from this:

that what you desire now

won’t last,

and only when you really find love

you’ll know its forever

and yes, it will drive you to lunacy.

To that there is no end.

 

When that table turns to look at you

it is HE who will love you in return;

it is HE who will teach you that

love is commitment, love is respect,

love is understanding,

and love is unrelenting,

and loyal.

It digs its claws in

and pierces your heart.

Love is an evolution of souls

on the same journey

and it will continue to grow

despite whatever comes from behind.

Author's Note

input, opinions, critiques, suggestions are always welcome!!

Reviews

[emmajoy]

That first post? Nowt wrong with it except youth trying to pour out the heart in words barely understood!

Takes time or genius or a mix of both to create what you have in that superb re.write. That - the latter, speaks the feelings, realisation, ethics and needs folk learn through experience and maybe more - eventually knowing self well enough to know what kind of person walks the same walk!

You've really worked this through, carefully and emotionally, without serving a sermon; there are some super wonderful lines which need remembering, '.. . That echo you hear? - It’s your common sense telling you that although you are alone now, - love will find you in its due course- and that feeble attempt you made to configure your life - and imagine how it would be - is nothing but a shadow of dreams of wants, not needs. - And life as it so happens - will come careening in its unexpected ways.'

Should be read, tasted, appreciated and swallowed.. tis en experience and a pleasure to fall into your maturity!

[Coyote Poetry]

The old poetry always need a rewrite. I believe we have different vision with added years and experiences. The re-write was more solid and understandable. Thank you dear Poet for sharing your amazing poetry and thoughts.
Coyote

[Glen Yumang Manese]

I'd have to agree that the first one was awful..
...I could not muster to finish it...yet as you put things in a different spectrum ---
the before and after...comes to life...
you've come a long way from 16 years of age...I have to say...
the length is quite there...in this piece...but who am I to say ---
about length...I tend to cover that area quite well...
the last stanza puts much understanding in this work...
your form and the way the words transfer makes the finishing touch...
sorry its taken me a while to come back...

[Wynter Ignatius]

Well Julez, you surprise me here.

I do enjoy the rewrite as I have done that of sorts for another poet/author in the recent past.

That said, I still do enjoy the earlier more raw work. I know our discussion about this was interesting but when I read this it reminds me of my old journal I kept for a time with the run-on sentences and broken grammar of teenage angst - it pays off well.

Still, this work of yours into re-writing older pieces should be an interesting read. I am looking forward to it and will be going though your other works here with a certain reverence and awe to see that spark ignite my own inner muse into something else.

If anything, I am a reflection of those that move me be it raw emotion or formulated thought.