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Bittersweet experience (1 Viewer)

Lyn

Member
I’m sitting at an international airport
I arrived extra early as to ensure I make my flight.

I’ve never had time to people watch because I was always rushing

But not this time.
It amazes me how every single one of these people have stories.
They all have their own narrative how they see their lives up to this moment, how they tell it in their own definition.
They are all seemingly normal, interesting, contributing members of society.
I could take a picture and in 12 hours each of theses strangers can be all over the e.
It makes me think of where I could go.
What is possible for me. And it inspires me. It exhilarates me. Makes me want to travel.

But at the same time, I know the reason I am here.
I’m here so I can attend a funeral for a relative who took his own life.
It is a reality that hasn’t sunken yet for me.
Those are elements of life that dance so intimately, together.
They dance
To the sound of cries of childbirth thru tears of joy when your first born child being handed in that bed
To the sound of love at first sight all the way thorough your 25th anniversary.
To the sound of cheering and applauding at your high school graduation.
To the sound of synchronized cries of a family at a funeral.
These dance so passionately to create the human experience.
To paint a picture that you’ll one day call a life.
I am in this moment, inspired, interested, hopeful and joyful about life.

Yet I am deeply hurt because the reality is sinking in
that we are no longer a complete family.
you’re no longer here with us and
we’ll need you for the rest of our lives
In birthdays
In Christmas
In New Years
Achievements
Celebrations
I look at the eyes around me
Their faces show a mixture of happiness , festivity, and melancholic nostalgia, and pain.
I can tell everyone is thinking about you.
 

ritudimrinautiyal

Senior Member
I’m sitting at an international airport
I arrived extra early as to ensure I make my flight.

I’ve never had time to people watch because I was always rushing

But not this time.
It amazes me how every single one of these people have stories.
They all have their own narrative how they see their lives up to this moment, how they tell it in their own definition.
They are all seemingly normal, interesting, contributing members of society.
I could take a picture and in 12 hours each of theses strangers can be all over the e.
It makes me think of where I could go.
What is possible for me. And it inspires me. It exhilarates me. Makes me want to travel.

But at the same time, I know the reason I am here.
I’m here so I can attend a funeral for a relative who took his own life.
It is a reality that hasn’t sunken yet for me.
Those are elements of life that dance so intimately, together.
They dance
To the sound of cries of childbirth thru tears of joy when your first born child being handed in that bed
To the sound of love at first sight all the way thorough your 25th anniversary.
To the sound of cheering and applauding at your high school graduation.
To the sound of synchronized cries of a family at a funeral.
These dance so passionately to create the human experience.
To paint a picture that you’ll one day call a life.
I am in this moment, inspired, interested, hopeful and joyful about life.

Yet I am deeply hurt because the reality is sinking in
that we are no longer a complete family.
you’re no longer here with us and
we’ll need you for the rest of our lives
In birthdays
In Christmas
In New Years
Achievements
Celebrations
I look at the eyes around me
Their faces show a mixture of happiness , festivity, and melancholic nostalgia, and pain.
I can tell everyone is thinking about you.

Really touching. Fact is, we don't make time to give it a thought, what we are doing and why we are doing that. But thanks, wait time for flights, hospitals too does enough to make us notice our surroundings, observe and think about all those memories, bittersweet occupied in our subconscious.

Just loved it.
Keep writing.
Good luck.

Ritu
 

Annie. Marie

Senior Member
I like this thought process. I've too been in many situation where this realization will really engulf me. I like how you put these thoughts into nicely packed words.

For a critique, I would say the first few stanzas, to me anyway, aren't really "poetry". It seems more of like prose or even part of a storybook. The last two stanzas follow more of a poetry style.

However, I did like how you connected the two occurrences (passerby's and your family member) right at the end.

Thank you for sharing.



-Annie
 

2020Syd2020

Senior Member
Hello,

I agree with Anne.Marie I don’t think there is enough poetic urgency in the first half or so of this, for it to be considered a poem. That doesn’t mean it’s not well written or that the narrative isn’t strong, nor does that mean that it couldn’t become a really strong prose/poem it just needs pared down so what’s left is what’s necessary to convey the piece as poetry.

I would also suggest given the reader some space as this is a lot of text in one big block and that can be quite daunting when you sit down to read a poem.

Cheers

Syd
 
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