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In Daylight, On a Park Bench, One Summer

Submitted by Pugilist on Mon, 2014-02-17 14:14

Too many times I have sat and watched as
you have told the little lies you tell to
explain away your actions and begin
the tired process of justifying your
callous behavior and desperately
horrid statements whose only purpose is
to viciously demean and brazenly
cower any small voice of compassion
directed toward those you savage as the
vile entertainment that is your sad life.
Then I recall these conversations are
just another aspect of my illness.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
This is a thought experiment, not an autobiographical piece. It is written in pentameter blank verse without regard to iamb or other structure. I have seen people lie to themselves in order to rationalize destructive behavior. Sometimes it is just a matter of insecurities overwhelming common decency. Other times it is actual illness. Illness should be treated. I wanted the title to have two distinct meanings. When you begin reading it, I wanted you to believe this was a conversation between two folks, one, perhaps a friend or the victim of an abusive relationship. When you finished the poem, I wanted the title to hit home as a scene you may have witnessed as a person beyond your capacity to save ranted at themselves. I don't have an answer here, I am just presenting a series of thoughts.
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

William Saint George

Tue, 2014-02-18 08:57

William Saint George's picture

This is the best poem I've read all week.

.

No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job. - TS Eliot

http://www.wsgeorge.com/

Seren

Tue, 2014-02-18 09:08

Seren's picture

I think you know I have battled schizophrenia for many years, when I read this I was reminded of someone I met in hospital when I was quite ill, he used to spin me out quite badly he was one minute the true meaning of evil the next the most placid, nice bloke, you could ever meet, I don't think your poem was meant to provoke such a reaction but it did, I am fortunate that my illness makes me probably weaker and more vulnerable than most and in another way unfortunate... two sides to every coin

I agree with William this is a brilliant poem I can find nothing to suggest

love JC x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

raj

Tue, 2014-02-18 14:38

This poem says so much in so few words which in itself is a testimony of your prowess. A pleasure read. Thanks for posting.

Regards,

raj (sublime_ocean)

Pugilist

Tue, 2014-02-18 15:59

Pugilist's picture
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You are all very kind and I appreciate your comments.

Although I do not suffer from mental illness, people who have been in my life for a very long time do and I know that all the hurtful words and actions directed towards them do not hurt more than their daily struggle.

---------------------------------------------------------

Jonathan Moore

author comment

scribbler

Tue, 2014-02-18 16:33

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It's not just those who suffer from mental illness who go out of their way to justify actions of which they are not proud. Likely the worst of them are in DC lol..........stan

wesley snow

Tue, 2014-02-18 18:28

wesley snow's picture
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... and only two sentences.
I am manic depressive with paranoid tendencies and mild psychosis (I hear music in my ears that isn't there).
I am not dangerous, but have met many who are. I want to think that my emotional traumas lend themselves to my art, but mostly they are nothing more than a burden... to me and to those who love me.
I'm with you Seren.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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