long dead and best forgotten

[Erthona]

.

(partial edit from Tom's suggestions)

Until we met I did not know anything was missing.
Although I looked, I did not see.
It was really quite foolish of me – still,
I felt complete, needing nothing else… yet,
in an unguarded instant your image seared my mind
–branding me– on that day when we first met.
On that day, you offered me a shy and unsure smile,
making me ache to ask you to stay,
please – stay awhile, and let me put your mind at ease.
Now, when I look into my mind
you are there looking back at me:
a questioning look upon your face,
and the frightening thing is when I see you there
you do not seem at all out of place.
I haven't done well with love,
we seem to share an enmity –
one for the other, love and me.
The only woman I ever opened my heart for – died!
Maybe she took that part with her when she went,
I have been content with my monastic-like life.
I have been a hermit, surrounded by the multitude of sound
yet the noisiness of it never reached my ears.
I was content…at least at peace or so I thought!
I owed no one anything my will could not be sold or bought.
Yes, I am sure I was content, even though
I was not where I thought someone like me,
should be at this point, in his life;
starting over once again,
no longer a young or vigorous man.
Life and disappointment had beaten me down.
Yes I admit it now, I had given up completely—
ceding to life the victory without a thought—
before a battle could be fought.
Starting over at an age where gray now streaked my hair,
at an age when those things that had once been
so important to me back then, I now let go of easily.
I no longer had the strength in me, too care, to care.
What had once lived in me no longer lived there.
It seems unfair yet it is just life is not merciful;
we need not fuss for life is ever the relentless creditor!
Still, or so I thought I was content with my lot
being within the safe bastion of academia once more.
So now what is this, I know you are not for me.
Why then do you caress my arm when we meet,
and seemingly search out my eyes so desperately,
birthing love that should not be—begotten—
stirring up passion’s haunted echoes
from a life long dead and best forgotten!


–Erthona

©2014

[ellajam]

I'm not sure what I'm missing. I've gone a long way for life's long, love's harsh, desire lives in us til we die whether we deal with it or not. I'd like to see you figure out what you want to say and say it, I don't get what so many details add. Do you need academia to say she's a student, does it matter if she is or isn't?

I found this interesting:

Now, when I look into my mind
you are there looking back at me:
a questioning look upon your face,
and the frightening thing is when I see you there
you do not seem at all out of place.

and maybe this without the echoes:

So now what is this, I know you are not for me.
Why then do you caress my arm when we meet,
and seemingly search out my eyes so desperately,
birthing love that should not be—begotten—
stirring up passion’s haunted echoes
from a life long dead and best forgotten!

Just a few reads, maybe something will hit me, I don't know.

[Erthona]

Thanks Marcella. I think what you are missing is that this is the the J Alfred Prufrock, the Casper Milquetoast of the 21st century.

"Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;"

Mundane minutia defines the speakers life, so yes it is important that he tells us that he is back in academia where he is safe and protected (insulated) from "the noisiness of it (life)" because it "never reached (his) ears."

I will consider deleting "haunted echoes" if you will tell me why you do not like it.

Thanks for the comments,


Dale

[ellajam]

Thanks Marcella. I think what you are missing is that this is the the J Alfred Prufrock, the Casper Milquetoast of the 21st century.

"Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;"

Mundane minutia defines the speakers life, so yes it is important that he tells us that he is back in academia where he is safe and protected (insulated) from "the noisiness of it (life)" because it "never reached (his) ears."

I will consider deleting "haunted echoes" if you will tell me why you do not like it.

Thanks for the comments,


Dale

I'll read that, then this again, then be back.
(but it's unlikely I'll follow that back to Dante's Inferno, although I believe it's on the shelf.)

[ellajam]

Well, I've picked up the pace of my read and am enjoying the structure more now.

I'd like a comma after "just" here: "It seems unfair yet it is just life is not merciful;"

My issue with "passion's haunted echoes" is first, it makes me roll my eyes, and second, I think the situation inspires new passion, even if it is denied. I'm having trouble getting into a Milquetoast head, I can't buy the point of view but I'm still trying. Maybe I need more boring details.

And do people look at J Alfred Prufrock and Casper Milquetoast as interchangeable? I don't, I still expect Al to toss caution to the wind tomorrow no matter what he says today.

[Mopkins]

Until we met I did not know anything was missing.
Although I looked, I did not see. (vague this and the next line could both go without leaving a hole as neither add much and foolish to look doesn’t seem to go))
It was really quite foolish of me – still,
I felt complete, needing nothing else… yet,
in an unguarded instant your image(was) seared (onto)my mind
–branding me– on that day when we first met.
On that day, you offered me a shy and unsure smile, (an offering of a smile seems a little odd did she smile or merely offer to)
making me ache to ask you to stay, ( nice assonance, ache,ask,stay)
please – stay awhile, and let me put your mind at ease. (This line goes nicely with ‘unsure’ but to me it’s not clear what she’s unsure about, still it doesn’t really matter))
Now, when I look into my mind
you are there looking back at me:
a questioning look upon your face,
and the frightening thing is when I see you there
you do not seem at all out of place. (at all superfluous)
I haven't done well with love,
we seem to share an enmity –
one for the other, love and me.
The only woman I ever opened my heart for – died! (hyphen and exclaimation point seem overdramatic to me )
Maybe she took that part with her when she went,
I have been content with my monastic-like life. (monastic-like seems awkward tho it makes the point ‘celibate’ may not convey the idea of solitude that the following hermit implies – have no better suggestions, just seems a bit clunky)
I have been a hermit, surrounded by the multitude of sound (sound should be plural i think)
yet the noisiness of it never reached my ears.
I was content…at least at peace or so I thought!
I owed no one anything my will could not be sold or bought. (irrelevant filler)
Yes, I am sure I was content, even though
I was not where I thought someone like me, (lose end comma)
should be at this point, in his life; (lose comma)
starting over once again,
no longer a young or vigorous man.
Life and disappointment had beaten me down. (to me, beaten me down is a bit old)
Yes I admit it now, I had given up completely—
ceding to life the victory without a thought—
before a battle could be fought.
Starting over at an age where gray now streaked my hair, (maybe when not where and lose ‘now’)
at an age when those things that had once been
so important to me back then, I now let go of easily.
I no longer had the strength in me, too care, to care. (lose – ‘, too care,’)
What had once lived in me no longer lived there.
It seems unfair yet it is just (that) life is not merciful; (so life is unmerciful... yet in the next line it’s an abundant giver or relentless creditor as you have it – which also makes me think of debt collectors)
we need not fuss for life is ever the relentless creditor!
Still, or so I thought I was content with my lot (I’d lose or so)
being within the safe bastion of academia once more.
So now what is this, I know you are not for me.
Why then do you caress my arm when we meet,
and seemingly search out my eyes so desperately,
birthing love that should not be—begotten— (i’d lose middle hypen)
stirring up passion’s haunted echoes
from a life long dead and best forgotten! (to me, this implies someone is now long dead, can’t be her or him)

Hi Dale,

Overall I liked it, though it seems a little odd that he still thinks she’s not for him though ceding something is missing and admitting he’s not content . Would have liked to have seen it end more decisively – does he choose to return the love she shows him or not in the end? To me, it read quite smoothly and apart from the petty things I’ve pointed out, I don’t see much wrong with it. Good job


Marianne

[Erthona]

BF and Marianne,

Thank you both for your through crits. Will make grammar changes quickly, will have to contemplate on word choices for longer. I can already see where to trim some parts completely. BTW Marianne in the third to last line those are em dashes not hyphens, it was suppose to have basically the same effect as being parenthetical. Maybe I'll play with that. Bit low today, so I shall curtail my natural verbosity.

Thanks,

Dale