if I only manage to capture
this it will be enough
you can't fit
into a sentence I assemble
like scraps
you on my page
I was cold and
happy desolate angry
you are pieces of my
pieces and need to be
captured
there's something that needs
to be captured in every first
snow and memory of the
last first
snow of the season the silent
falling and settling in I
won't leave you cold
like I was ice
through the bottom of
my shoes I never had
the chance to move everything
ends in pieces
From: nchinen@dept.english.upenn.edu (Nathan T Chinen)
Hey all,
This may be a recapitulation of comments from our meeting, but here goes.
I love the way this poem begins, with a sense of urgency:
if I only manage to capture
this is will be enough
The poem is "about" this struggle to "capture" something, an image, an
emotion, a "this." Alyssa, you're very upfront here about the inadequacies
of language to convey meaning. But it's not an overt linguistic dementia;
things are just slightly fragmented -- tastefully, through line breaks
that prompt the reader to consider syntax:
you can't fit
into a sentence I assemble
like scraps
you on my page
Four deceivingly simple lines. Interesting first line, "you can't fit,"
which implies an out-of-placeness, an awkwardness. It's also possible to
parse the first two lines to construct this phrase: "you can't fit into a
sentence." But we can also overlap lines 2 & 3 to read: "into a sentence
[that] I assemble like scraps". Then again, this could be read as: "I
assemble [you] into a sentence like scraps on a page" -- certainly the
most consonant reading, but, as they say, 'tain't necessarily so. It's
actually a complicated situation to confront, as a reader. This subtle but
striking linebreak ambiguity reappears here:
I
won't leave you cold
like I was ice
through the bottom of
my shoes I never had
the chance to move everything
ends in pieces
I really like the line "like I was ice," which seems to imply a sort of
self-reflexive sadness. Coldness can be external ("ice through the bottom
of my shoes"), but it can also be a part of oneself. Also, "the chance to
move everything / ends in pieces," which is a great way to end, I think.
"The chance to move everything" suggests a sort of large personal
upheaval, a contrast to the generally quiet voice of the poem (this could,
after all, simply be a comment on the fact that ice collects on one's
shoes if you stand in one place long enough -- metaphorically significant,
a la Williams' poem about the church bells ringing "Stasis, stasis,
stasis").
The last line brings everything together, the implication that "everything
ends in pieces." Again, image overlap, a word used twice in two
consecutive phrases, a device that suits this poem well. And of course,
the clever ending. Everything, including this poem, ends in "pieces." The
word "pieces" is nothing more than a "piece" of this poem, a unit of
meaning that ultimately fails. This is a sad poem, but also quite
beautiful.
My only suggestions, then, are line-specific. I think the line "happy
desolate angry" might be too loaded. "Desolate" is such a strong word, and
I feel as if it stands out in this poem. What I like about the poem is its
muted emotion, the feelings that go unspoken (because they can't be
captured in words). This line, for me, weighs down the poem a bit. I feel
the same way about "captured," which appears as its own line halfway
through the poem. The idea of "capture" is evident (from the first line),
and I don't think it needs to be emphasized so explicitly here. And
finally, I'll say it again: this poem needs a title. Something simple, a
single word perhaps. Hmm. "Stasis?" It's all I can come up with at the
moment.
That's all for now. I hope my reading is helpful.
-Nate
From: Luke Szyrmer