Thread: Broken Hearts and Saddled Ponies

Broken Hearts and Saddled Ponies


Tears well my eyes and spill
as tears are wont to do.
Breath heaves inside
and catches small pockets of hiccups
that buck
like first time saddled ponies
inside my throat.

I am really and grossly upset.

No, this time
I am beyond adverbs.
I am Tear;
dropped, bombed,
like a water balloon
thrown and exploding
all over his face.

In my weakened flaw,
I lie supine upon my bed,
face up,
arms and legs asprawl
as if they were large dead worms.

A case of fuzzies
float inside my head;
hap-hazard dust mites
biting and itching,
making me scratch in places
I am also wont to forget.

I hope she’s worth losing me for,
and I’m not just spilt milk,
white and souring on your tongue.
Spewed out like projectile vomit
because I’m so disgusting.

My broken heart,
like a saddled pony,
will get used to it,
like knowing scrambled eggs
are really baby chicks.

It’s just that cloven beat
of heart and hooves,
remembered but not forgotten;
that stampede of freedom
far away from saddles and other tramps.

Those times
when our milk
was homogenized and sweet
and we galloped
across the prairie of life
and bucked.

Sondra, this is wonderful. You've managed to mix sadness and wry humor together in just the right balance, along with a touching wistfulness here and there. Well done.

I loved some of the lines here. large dead worms and milk.

my only thought would be to rid the 'like a' simile attachment.

for example you wrote:

In my weakened flaw,
I lie supine upon my bed,
face up,
arms and legs asprawl
as if they were large dead worms.

- simile removed - as large dead worms - more of an impact visually, they aren't then 'as if' they are but its easily understood as being the simile without pointing.

you write very well, so don't cheat your images with 'like a'

thank you for the read

Sync

I've dispatched my henchmen to steal your brain, my dear very clever lady. In a word, excellent. S1 is simply awesome, you've described those nasty little hitches that we all hate so much brilliantly, kudos. I've tried a million times to translate them into words and failed miserably, you've hit the nail squarely on the head. I have to admit, upon my initial read I did not pick up on the humor, I was too busy engaging in empathetic ache and anger, you conveyed your lady's pain to perfection. Your imagery is unique and engaging, like Sync, I loved your use of worms and milk, both original and extremely vivid in the mind's eye. I loved this, Sondra, dear, as I told you before, your stuff is always worth waiting for.

Best,
Lisa

Thank you Cindy, Sync and Lisa for reading. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I wrote it about three years ago and posted it on Ambiance Arttists. I wrote it as kind of a joke, trying for a little over the top imagery and clunky flawed lines, but trying to keep truth to the idea. I ended up getting some good feedback, which surprised me. I wonder, is it worth trying to fix it somehow to make it seem like a "real" poem without taking the flavor and silliness out of it.? I always liked this one, but never worked on it again.

You really did a remarkable job with this poem! I was impressed that you were able to maintain repetitive imagery without making it monotonous--your descriptions and word-choices helped turn what would be a problem (don't we always tell people: variety, variety, variety!?) into a strength which unifies your lines and propels forward the general narrative. At times it sinks to a level bordering on depression, but you somehow have the ability to snap the reader away from such emotional depths with a sly twist in wordplay. Keep this up!

The one area I want to specifically comment on is this stanza:

My broken heart,
like a saddled pony,
will get used to it,
like knowing scrambled eggs
are really baby chicks.

This is seemingly the only "high" point of the poem, the climax (or anti-climax?). The rest of the poem, as I said, maintains a pretty low/sad emotional level, with slight jolts here and there. If this is your intention, then think nothing of what I am saying . But, I do think it would strengthen the emotions in the rest of your poem by introducing some kind of discord here: some kind of high, some kind of hope, some kind of future or longing--some bright spot in a dark day. As I said, that doesn't mean that you have to change the general emotional feel of your poem (it's great as it is!), but rather, strengthen what already is by discording it/pitting it against one glimmer of something else.

Just food for thought, but overall, you did very well!

My dear Sondra, even stuff you are deliberately trying to sabotage comes out great. I could easily learn to dislike you, you know. At the risk of seeming more insane than usual, I must admit, I took this piece very seriously initially and it most certainly seems like a "real poem" to me as is. There are one or two lines that are a wee bit awkward, but aside from that, I love it. Keep in mind that personal experience determines how we interpret pieces, so I could completely identify with your lady and the peppering of wry humor is how I handle everything. You captured heartache brilliantly and I wouldn't change a thing.

'...catches small pockets of hiccups
that buck
like first time saddled ponies
inside my throat.'

Loved this, I could feel the lumps in my throat when I read it.