R
Rana
Guest
Okay so this is a poem that I had to write for my ninth grade english class, and it's supposed to be a sorta similar but contemporary compared to The Love Song of Alfred J. Prufrock by T.S. Eliot (look it up if you haven't read/heard of it).. soo tell me what you think and how I can make it better! Thanks in advance!
Ambivalence
Come along with me…
Or not.
To a place that has long been sought
But
My feet are still caught
In these entangling and warping grape vines I’ve fought
For days, months, or was it years?
I’ve been pondering my tears and our fears?
Was it yesterday, or the day before, or the day before-
That I felt the urge to walk through that forbidden door?
That I was wondering what I was looking for?
That I concluded I really wasn’t sure?
To walk through and see those dark gray eyes,
To see those rugged, old Levi’s
Which my heart thumped for,
And yet somehow despised.
No, I don’t despise them,
Or… do I?
Despise the endless, winding road
We take every time we see him-
Lounged about a leather couch,
The aroma of fresh pine and Calvin Klein
Seeping into my veins?
His hair of ebony tumbling upon his eyes- windows of so many feelings,
His gestures, his laughs, oh so appealing,
He, whom too many have accused
Of reeling and stealing.
Do I despise the seed of the vines?
Which I know will never be mine?
No… but yes?
Should I walk through the door?
Or will the vines tighten even more?
Should I tell him…
Or should I not?
That I’ve been seeking
What is so commonly sought?
Sought with stale chocolates, wilted flowers,
And with poems lingered upon for hours and hours.
With the works of dead poets grieved upon,
From the hour the moon glistened across the lawn,
To the hour they realized the stars were long gone.
Should he be told?
Should the truth unfold?
Do I dare?
Do I?
Throw a pebble into the lake,
Or will it be too great a shake?
Would it just be all one great mistake?
To open that door,
Bite an apple to its core,
To finally reach what I’ve been looking for?
No.
I am not the one to tell him these things.
Not the one to be indulged with roses and rings.
Not the one to experience the clouds and the wings.
I will never know how
That sweet poison would have tasted,
And so many feelings will all have been wasted.
For someday, the warping and tangling of that great grape vine,
Will elevate above feet and waist until it can bind,
Part to part, bone to bone,
Squeezing and crushing until it leaks red wine.
Ambivalence
Come along with me…
Or not.
To a place that has long been sought
But
My feet are still caught
In these entangling and warping grape vines I’ve fought
For days, months, or was it years?
I’ve been pondering my tears and our fears?
Was it yesterday, or the day before, or the day before-
That I felt the urge to walk through that forbidden door?
That I was wondering what I was looking for?
That I concluded I really wasn’t sure?
To walk through and see those dark gray eyes,
To see those rugged, old Levi’s
Which my heart thumped for,
And yet somehow despised.
No, I don’t despise them,
Or… do I?
Despise the endless, winding road
We take every time we see him-
Lounged about a leather couch,
The aroma of fresh pine and Calvin Klein
Seeping into my veins?
His hair of ebony tumbling upon his eyes- windows of so many feelings,
His gestures, his laughs, oh so appealing,
He, whom too many have accused
Of reeling and stealing.
Do I despise the seed of the vines?
Which I know will never be mine?
No… but yes?
Should I walk through the door?
Or will the vines tighten even more?
Should I tell him…
Or should I not?
That I’ve been seeking
What is so commonly sought?
Sought with stale chocolates, wilted flowers,
And with poems lingered upon for hours and hours.
With the works of dead poets grieved upon,
From the hour the moon glistened across the lawn,
To the hour they realized the stars were long gone.
Should he be told?
Should the truth unfold?
Do I dare?
Do I?
Throw a pebble into the lake,
Or will it be too great a shake?
Would it just be all one great mistake?
To open that door,
Bite an apple to its core,
To finally reach what I’ve been looking for?
No.
I am not the one to tell him these things.
Not the one to be indulged with roses and rings.
Not the one to experience the clouds and the wings.
I will never know how
That sweet poison would have tasted,
And so many feelings will all have been wasted.
For someday, the warping and tangling of that great grape vine,
Will elevate above feet and waist until it can bind,
Part to part, bone to bone,
Squeezing and crushing until it leaks red wine.
