No one has to know

Really enjoyed this one Jesta, little treasures hidden away, like memories frozen in time. Love the way you make can make the smallest details romantic and interesting. Can relate to a lot of this piece :)

Peace, Indie

thank you so much Indie! i wish i knew how that detailing effect came about so i could harness it, make it do what i want it to do. as always, love your stop-bys. [:

You do so much here with the little details. They really tell the story. Still, my guess is your character has some stories that will make her grandchildren's hair stand on end one day (if she ever shares).

she is a bit of something else, that one, isn't she? i love when small things can say something important. [:

thanks for reading, so beautiful to have you back here, BA.

Where do I even start.
I was originally lured in with the story. You wonder exactly what is happening. Why this person is analysing their belongings in such  a way.  
 
"The poem, I threw away
because it was hand written and
though it meant nothing specific
its effort smelt  
of more than promise fulfilled
to anyone with sense"
 
This reminds me of my own life. I basically have a box of hand written letters. Probably every hand written letter I have ever received in my life. I keep them because I appreciate the effort that have gone into them. I keep them because they mean something to me. I keep them because they remind me of a simpler time, when emotions were thought out and composed, rather than said in electronic whimsy.
 
"Love notes don't last long either
I move a lot, clear a lot
mostly on the outside
'cause it's easier"
 
I've moved around the country a lot in my life. My physical baggage is very light thanks to this, but I get that this was emphasising the external baggage of people. Nobody ever really clears out the secrets that they hold inside. They never leave. You're right, it is easier this way.  
 
 
"So when he stood with me under a half-moon
summoning his past of lush nights
with a classic
"No one has to know"
I smiled a small toast to enough secrets
and said
"Thank you""
 
I don't know why exactly, but this stanza recalled to me the phrase 'the grass always looks greener on the other side'. Generally, until you get there and you realise it's tainted with dog piss and other such wonders. This piece emphaises the difficulty of staying within a relationship without wondering what could have been, or should have been, or might have been.  
 
I really enjoyed this piece. It's subtle beauty and short breathed monologues touched me in ways that made me stop and analyse my own situation. I also found it odd knowing that this is in the upbeat poetry section. It actually made me feel rather sad.
 
Thank you for allowing me to read this today.
 
Reading listed.

and you, madame, have brought me an entirely new poem than what i thought i'd written, and the fact that you could see yourself there is excellent to hear.  
 
jeez, i want to go into the points you've made because they're all their own subjects!  
 
the difference between this being the poem you've read and the poem i wrote is all in those last couple of stanzas. the penultimate stanza "our" was meant to be about a different man than the one in the last stanza; which, of course, no one would know because i didn't specify. i almost like it better this way, and don't know if i'll bother "fixing" it into what i meant it to be... the category will have to be changed though. thank you for your thorough and thoughtful reading, it's an honour to get a response like this -- and after your Pt. 2 poem posted today made me tear up as well.

Yeah, sorry about that, I ramble on when it's something that I like :)

by the way, glad (part two) had an effect on somebody. Mini joy.

I know this is so lovely, Jestalessa.

Thanks...

Strider

thanks so much, Strider. and heeey, you're an "S" too. [:

Nice write fishy xoxox

so glad you liked it, Gigifish; thank you so much for reading. xoxox [:

This is a wonderful piece Jesta. I especially like these lines. :)

"Some whispers
I wrote in an old notebook
up the middle binding
to remind me in times of self doubt
that I was wanted once
or twice
or more"

aw, thank you, Mags [:  
 
i quite like that part myself... really did that when i was a teenager. [:

wit all that's been said thusfar, not much to add.

well done piece'o work...
writing
thee
rite-on,
right on

thankya saxxas; always pleased when your eyes are happy on my pages. [:

Jesta, I love you in so many differant ways and I wont bring myself to counting them. This that you have put here, set a series of emotions and I even found myself fantasizing standing with you and whispering those words waiting for that beautiful end. Please know that I love your voice here, and that I think this lovely piece brought happines to me today. For me this is the one. The one I will remember you for allways. Its just beautiful. Thank you. Love it.

Read 2&3 - This poem boasts so much of the sentiment of my past year... Packing up the love I had whilst sharing it (for me it was unique to share it) keeping a few, locked, as if locking them up seperates the memory and then finding those moments that I just want kept to us. Almost like I'll be safer if its just ours and no body else is any the wiser. Its on point, Jess. On point!
 
Thank you again.

woo, that is amazing, Al... i feel like my writing roots have moved a little bit even though the topside looks much the same, so it's comforting to have your encouragement for these pieces where i'm really unsure how (or if) a reader can connect. [:

thank you, my friend.

poem addict came back, smiles. This piece is definately a "reader can connect" piece. I think I'm loving the abiguity in it. I'm still feeling this aching reality in that last one. Almost like geez... Is she admiting to something completely irrelevant here? Or has she "blindsided" with the topside? Don't answer that, "No one has to know". Its a connection to cherish and look after.
 
Love at you -x-

Well again, I find myself erasing a good twenty minutes worth of my approach to this write..everytime I write something I get self conscious about it...gonna leave it at I really like this, for reasons that seem too over read into..so yeah, a cop out of epic proportions, but I do like it

i wish you would stop erasing these things because you make me entirely curious every time you say... and i would love to see what you saw in it, particularly if it was over read into. [:

either way though, LB, i'm pleased you enjoyed, and always appreciate you letting me know. thanks aplenty.

Yeah, lightbaron, I feel similarly ... writing comments can be more difficult than writing poems.  And especially when it comes to you, Jestalessa.

Something about your writing leaves me pleased with the world, and in this case, pleased with the smell and feel of old books, old loves, old talismans and old (but delicious) mistakes.  Always delighted when not everything is said, so 'blindsided' was a tasty morsel to ponder over.

Thank you for this one, a good read several times over.

if i could help take you there with this set of eyes, Kaat, i am a happy woman; yours get me every time. [:

yeah, thought 'blindsided' summed up what i meant for that relationship quality, so it's nice to hear it invoked a wee selah and that you took some time to really get it... i am ever grateful for your visits. [:

Jess.

I like this a lot, you know.

the first line, the opener, "I hid the postcard,in a book of carver stories", a book of short stories. clever.

I s'pose in a way it's hard to figure who the narrator is talking to, could be herself.

there is a matter of fact-ness going on but I don't think it's cold or anything.
 "No one has to know"
I smiled a small toast to enough secrets
and said
"Thank you"

well, these lines are a gift in poetry because they can change the whole dynamics of how one interprets the rest of the poem.

It's put together really nice, very easy to read and take in, even looks welcoming in it's entirety.

great addition to the collection Jess, consider the hat tipped, fair play , shine on.

 

  

 

sorry this has taken so long for me to respond... i can blame nothing but laziness. [:

well, the matter-of-fact ness was meant to have a little bit of a hard edge because she's objectifying the whole lot of these things as experience without the emotion, at the same time, as the writer, i hope it gives off some conflicting signals so someone can take it differently depending on their views, personal boundaries or personality. not to say there was an aim in writing it that way, but it's what was going on in my own head at the time - i felt a bit of a conflict.

thanks, as always, for throwing your eyes over this one, leppero. [:

The poem, I threw away  
because it was hand written and  
though it meant nothing specific  
its effort smelt    
of more than promise fulfilled  
to anyone with sense  

Soooo much effort... for nothing specific. Something hand-made thrown away. That's surgical... "Go lightly from the ledge babe, go lightly on the ground. There's nothing in here moving, and anyway I'm not alone." Bob Dylan...  

A mapped out history of tapestry memory is a spendy curse that's unending when it rifles through your files and disperses them quicker than a cutpurse getting clean with just the green he came for. A shame when your memories have to be edited to reframe, but I've thrown away faaaaar more than I can erase. Sacrifice-verses make a piece real for me. Means there was truth in the experience and not just a bleeding heart. I liked this one from the start.

yes, yes yes. surgical. thank you for getting that, and i'm glad you could relate in some way. ah, these, the rewards of poetry. [:

Regarded with a knowing eye*
I get it... (or maybe i'm just taking what i want from it..)
Memory is a fickle room to find a way out of.. but maybe it's not too bad a place once ya get used to it. The cracks and pictures and old smells are a comfort i suppose :)

That probably made no fucking sense what-so-ever but
hell, this is great M'Lady. One hell of a gorgeous pen you got there :)

i'm sure you've had plenty of memories yourself, m'lady... they do remind me of lighter days and that pleasant, nearly sick feeling in the stomach from excitement. sometimes you don't want to let it go alllll the way. haha, whatever you take out of it, i'm happy. many thanks to you for swooping through. [: