I love the rhyme scheme, it has a real.. well, I can't even put my finger on how it sounds. It certainly reminds me of something though. Once again, and I hate to use this comparison more than once, but it reminds me a lot of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. It might be just because I wrote an essay on it last night though.

I love the sort of lively yet desolate tone of this poem; it captures two sides of the world. I feel like it's mostly about a man who wants to forget, at least that's what I'm getting. However it's a little strange how it starts off "I've seen others drinking their troubles away" but then kind of segues into "I walk around trying to let go of past love."

I absolutely love how the poem decays into somberness though. How in the beginning it's "fading talk of we", then later it's "fading talk of she" and in the end, as if the man is forgetting who he is, and / or losing faith in himself, it is "empty talk of he". I especially love the word empty, because to me that says two things:

It says that what he's saying is meaningless to him.

It says that what he's saying about himself isn't honest.

Taken another way though (and I don't think you intended it this way), it also kind of implies a second love- a male. Given that, the particular line carries homosexual undertones, but as I said I don't think you meant it that way.



The only one complaint I have is of the word "crispest" in the second large stanza. The imagery is fantastic and I can't personally think of a better word. Also it works so well the the alliteration with the word "calming". However, I find that I have to say it fast in order to squeeze it in. The suffix "est" is too rough for that passage. I know this seems like a ridiculous solution but maybe you can take a nod from olde english, and just ad an "e" to the end of crisp. It loses some of it's edge, but it maintains flow.

Just a suggestion. It works without it.

--
"Young man, lift up your russet brow, and lift your tender eyelids, maid, and brood on hopes and fears no more." - W.B. Yeats

Oh i meant to say I love the use of "Stille Nacht"

It's kind of neat how it's almost like saying "still not, still not" when you read it. It's got an interesting feeling. And it's got a real depressing feeling to it too because of the Christmas-y feel. Christmas is for a lot of people, extremely depressing. Number 1 suicide holiday, actually...

--
"Young man, lift up your russet brow, and lift your tender eyelids, maid, and brood on hopes and fears no more." - W.B. Yeats

Wow.

The way everything fits together is beautiful. I could almost cry, I really could. (Now that sounded like Mrs. Lovett. Where do I come off getting that kind of nerve, pseudo-quoting Sondheim?)

But I mean it. "[S]till not Stille Nacht to me" may be one of the most excellent, purely poetical lines I've ever heard.

Is "the winter of my hear" a typo meant to be "heart" or is it much more deeply meaningful than that, which it is either way?

The rhymes are great. It's very rhythmic, and it reminds me of the wind, which I am relatively sure was your intention.

Quick question, though: are the last two stanzas from "her" perspective? That was the feeling I got on first read.

--
"There is no coincidence. Only the illusion of coincidence." (V, V for Vendetta)

Yay Sweeney Todd references. I don't quite remember that line, but I like it all the same, just because Mrs. Lovett is such an awesome character.

That stanza has been in my head for literally months, but I didn't know how to connect it to anything. It was probably thought of around early January.

Alas, no, it is meant to be "heart." I changed it. Since this was written in the winter, I liked the contrast. While the rhyming was mainly just to hold the loose form together and work with that stanza I mentioned, the overall intent was to have a rambling feel. I tend to write as if each piece was meant to be read aloud, so I'll go for walks late at night and come up with portions of it. So that's why the nighttime imagery works the way it does.

Going with that idea, the last two stanzas are written from his perspective still, but it shows he's been walking all night, and the sun is coming up. He's sad, so he doesn't want to see it. On top of that, the "empty" part ties it not only to his emotions, but the last line of the second stanza: "the empty and the free." That, and I left it vague as to why the talk is empty. Either he deems his life meaningless, feels he is empty without his love, that talking is pointless, or perhaps that he's going to kill himself. He's fading away in one form or another, and I'm leaving it up to the reader to decide how literally they should take that.

--
"I try not to let my schooling interfere with my education."

-Mark Twain

Oh, and of course, I'm happy that I wrote something that could make you cry in a good way. That's another goal of mine, to write something sadly beautiful on a way that can move people.

--
"I try not to let my schooling interfere with my education."

-Mark Twain

The rhyme scheme might remind you of some of the poems in "Poetry Collection IV" by me. I used it for "Do You Remember Us," at least to an extent. But yes, I think it sounds vaguely familiar, too.

That may be part of the Prufrock thing, but I thank you regardless. I've always hoped to write a poem like that.

I can kinda see what you mean with the "lively yet desolate" thing. I'm glad that it works well, in that ballad sort of way. I tried to sort of tie in the men wandering around late at night, trying to find a bar to drown their sorrows are sort of like him, who walks around for similar reasons. It's sort of showing the ease of escapism in a bit of a sympathetic way, I guess. At any rate, I kind of liked that contrast, and how he seems to have wound up similar to them. It's sort of like how I've had to restrain friends from drinking after a bad break-up, and I've even had to restrain myself at one point.

I like your perspective on "the empty talk of he" line, and the other lines connected to it. I think you're dead-on with almost all of it, except maybe the honesty part. I was trying to go for a more general "nothing matters" sense, where either he doesn't feel he matters, he feels empty without his love, or perhaps he plans on killing himself. He's fading away in one form or another, and I decided to leave it ambiguous. I sort of realized the homosexual undertones, but decided it didn't seem likely anyone would make that connection. That, and I have a cynical perspective that almost all writers, by the end of their lives, will have a critic point out the homosexual undertones in their work. I wonder how many other pieces have a bit and I don't even notice. At any rate, although it wasn't intended, it does give an extra dimension to the poem.

"Crispe" wouldn't quite work, because then you'd have to make it sound sort of like "crispeh," which makes me laugh a bit when I read it aloud. I don't really have too much trouble with the line, and I honestly can't think of many other words I could replace it with. For those reasons, I think it'll have to stay as-is. At any rate, thanks for the suggestion and critique.

I've had the "Still Nacht" line stuck in my head for a while now. If you look at the first draft of "Nothingness Poem," you can see it written near the bottom of the page. I thought that was kinda cool, being able to see all the parts to what inevitably becomes a whole with my writing. I'm glad you liked it, and that the poem as a whole seems good, and not just the original stanza.

Sad that Christmas is that depressing. It even out-ranks Valentine's Day. Perhaps because more people would kill themselves over family or religion over love. I think that speaks to the importance of both in peoples' lives.

--
"I try not to let my schooling interfere with my education."

-Mark Twain

Haha man you made me laugh out loud with the "Crispeh" thing. I pictured a guy saying "Crisp" and then just kinda sighing about it afterwards. Sort of a "Crisp" "meh"

As for the homosexual undertones? Definitely true. I assume that when I'm dead people will probably think me to be a tad dandy. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but truth be told I've always been uncontrollably attracted to women. I'm quite secure with my sexuality, secure enough to admit to finding other men attractive. There's a difference though. That is: I feel as if I've been designed to admire women, whereas I admire men based on social conventions of what is and isn't attractive. That, and I've never been compelled to pursue a relationship of that nature, whereas I'm constantly compelled by my own desires to pursue relationships with women.

On the other hand though, I feel love extends far beyond the realm of physical. I think that love is something we experience which is so powerful on the mental level, that it spills over into the physical world because our hearts simply can't contain it. Hence why there are so many crimes of passion: suicide, murder, spying, etc. Nor is it a mistake that romance is probably the most talked about aspect of western civilization. Take a look at any drug-mart book shelf. 90% romance novels and magazines with tips. Unfortunately that makes it hard for unrequited lovers, in that romance is nearly always being rubbed into our faces.

I suppose therein lies the real charm of the first long stanza in your poem. The image of those men tells more about the speaker while also setting the scene. It allows us to realize that he is connecting with those people. It might serve you well to notify the reader of that connection though- but leaving it ambiguous coincides with your overall intention. Besides, I'm a fan of ambiguity and I often preach it, as my own personal motto is not to reveal the meaning of a poem, but rather let others create their own. I think I've said it a few times before to you. "Poetry is more for the reader than it is for the writer."

On Christmas I will simply state this: family and romance often go hand in hand. Valentines day is a day of couples. Christmas often involves sects of couples; newly weds, sweethearts meeting the family for the first time, babies, baby photos, etc. The pressure to mate is enormous in our society. Large get-togethers only increase those pressures. To add, valentines day is more about passion whereas Christmas is more about love and comfort.

That, and many major holidays fall around that time. If every major holiday is a hotspot for suicide, then those 3 weeks in December are like a gauntlet of buckshot dentistry and hangings. Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Newyears, Ukranian Christmas... add to the list if I've mist any.

--
"Young man, lift up your russet brow, and lift your tender eyelids, maid, and brood on hopes and fears no more." - W.B. Yeats

I can see that. It still sounds like "crispeh" in my head, though, and that just cannot happen.

People will probably just think I was "eccentric." Flaming eccentric.
I dunno. I have a hard time being attracted to anyone. I see as much attractiveness in guys as I do in girls, but not in any sort of way that would make me pursue either gender. For me, it seems to be strictly a personality thing. I don't like anyone on any level until I know how they are as a person. That means that relationships are a bit hard for me, because I can only get to know them and like them if I spend time with them, but I only want to spend time with them if I like or are attracted to them. It's a paradox, really.

I'm honestly not sure of love. I think it's different for every person, because there's no wrong way to care about someone. Sometimes, it seems more physical than mental, and other times, it's the reverse. I really can't analyze it, and perhaps I shouldn't. One could argue that 90% of magazines and books or any other form of media is predominately related to sex. I'd actually say that love is instilled strongest when we're young. Every girl grows up wanting to be Barbie or a Disney princess, and every guy grows up wanting to be an action hero. That's also when we hear "I love you" the most, or at least begin to grasp its general meaning. Not to mention the "when two people love each other very much" speech. We start off honestly and earnestly believing that sexuality is based on love, and these idealistic, romantic notions. Suddenly, we get older, and we learn that there is no set foundation. We grow cynical. And we've seen so many cliches with movies now that nobody wants to watch a typical love story. I can't really decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. The romance rubbed in our faces tends to be highly fantasized beyond reason, so it deludes people into thinking love is free from problems. It's a dollhouse fantasy. Perhaps unrequited lovers aren't so much hounded by the prevalence of love as it is the "all you see is couples" problem. They long for love so badly that that seems to be all they can see.

I'm more on the end that poetry is for both, but it affects the reader more. In an odd way, a lot of what is said between the relationship between poet and reader is the same as man and woman in a sexual situation. I'm not trying to be dirty, but if you think about it, it's true.

I can see that. Once again, when you have a romantic ideal of what Christmas is, it's hard to face reality. Christmas is supposed to be special, and in some cases, it really isn't. That, and it seems a lot of problems keep arising in families nowadays. But yes, I'd have to agree with your statements.

--
"I try not to let my schooling interfere with my education."

-Mark Twain

Well, it's working.

--
"There is no coincidence. Only the illusion of coincidence." (V, V for Vendetta)