Faceless

I’ve found myself two-faced
With scars on both sides
Things I wish I could’ve erased
Before I put them in these lies
Maybe it’s really for the better
If I just learn to live with it
But sometimes people deserve to-the-letter
Honesty, so here’s what I’ll admit

I’m not a castle made of rock
Meditating in the dark
With no personality, no time to talk
Aside from a snide remark
I don’t just breath tetrameter
Out of nowhere onto the page
Like some forlorn foghorn Demeter
When I do, I still don’t deserve praise

I don’t do self-deprecation
As a placeholder for humble
When you ask for explanation
There’s a reason why I mumble
But that doesn’t mean I dreaming
This doesn’t have to be defining
Sometimes there is no meaning
For why a spark isn’t shining

I am not some fragile shale
Waiting to burst into dust
A drunk dizzy broken pale
Excuse for mistrust
I’m not gyro-unstable
I won’t break at touch of song
My face may be mostly fable
But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong

I don’t want to be exulted
Excuse the lesson I expected
I’ve just never been so insulted
By somebody I’ve respected
And I’m no extro-introvert
Talking loud, a smile I’m feigning
Because these groupings I invert
And this pretend is all but draining

So who am I? I am faceless.
These changes never call it quits
Half the time I feel so nameless
Days when neither truly fits
And I’m not here in denial
This isn’t me complaining
Let’s just call it a mistrial
I’m a person, not a painting

Staring at this scarlet sun
I can’t but think of you
Worry that, like others, it’s undone
A no-such-thing-as-true
I fear, when I’m just a stone
You’ll read it and you’ll see
That’s all you’ve ever known
Or will ever see of me.

Broken Bands in Misty Grove

                                      In a breezy forest town

A woman, young, hears chiming grace

                                      Church bells ring a lovely sound

In what was once an empty place.

                                      People here, they keep their own and

Here is where she starts to learn

                                      None are willing to expand

How broken bands and love can turn

                                      To hate the way an oak tree grows.

The key to how a heart is lost,

                                      Hanging in a misty grove —

Why the past should not be crossed

                                      It waves its branches all away

From the form she can’t ignore

                                      Like any normal summer day

A love can die from little more.

 

 

 

READ THIS FIRST!

In case you didn’t read my long spiel of a previous post (which is likely, and also here, if you happen to be interested), this poem is called a double exposure.  Long story short, here is how you read the poem:  you read the bold-faced lines together for the first poem.  Next, you read the regular type-faced lines together for a second poem.  After that, read all of the lines together for a new, third poem.  There you go.

On Double Exposures

I know it looks like I’ve abandoned poetic form entirely in favor of a free-er verse, but I’ve been working on something.  My next poem is a double exposure poem (which I just finished, and have scheduled to be posted today).  The rules are quite simple.  The lines that are bolded (every odd-numbered line) create one poem.  The lines in regular text (every even-numbered line) create another poem.

Then, the lines connect along what is called the “zipper” (or the estuary if you want to be super-poet-y and, it’s me, so I do) and create an entirely new third poem.  This third poem typically creates new context for the lines.  Often this context is a lot darker than the original two poems because, let’s be honest, it’s easier to make a light poem dark than vice versa.

This poetic form was created by Greg Williamson, and it’s one that I’ve been wanting to try out for a long time.  I’ve found it difficult to find a whole lot of Mr. Williamson’s work (though my copy of the Norton Anthology of Poetry has a modest yet excellent selection), but from what I’ve read, it’s quite good; I recommend it.

Said anthology is how I was introduced to this form, and the two double exposure poems featured in it are simply fantastic, and have made me intensely curious in this form since I first read them almost two years ago.

Even aside from all that, this form is so intriguing!  Simple looking, but everything fits together so well at the end.  It’s one of the reasons I like poems which feature repeating lines so much.  There’s a feeling of re-discovery when a poem makes you look at a line that you thought you knew in an entirely different light.

Anyway, my double exposure poem is forthcoming, and I’ll admit it took me a little while to get everything to both work right and sound right, but I hope you enjoy it.  In the meantime, this link has an example of the form written by Greg Williamson himself.  It ought to give you an idea about how the form looks.