She's Gone
 

Fifteen years on
from that melancholy weekend,
the muted celebration
of your fiftieth birthday
when fifty-one
was not on the agenda,
if the doctors were not wrong,
I am laid low
by the memory of this song
or that
that led us on
through our teenage years,
Dylan’s soulful drone,
the mysteries of Astral Weeks,
the joyous explosion
of sound and speed
that started Born To Run ,
the healing lucubrations
of the saxophone
on Backstreets,
its fat and tender tone,
and then
that one
by Hall and Oates you liked,
She’s Gone.

I think this one is probably too self-indulgent, and should have been suppressed, but I am putting it out here to see whether I've got that right or not. I might as well know, one way or the other, rather than keep wondering.

Hi, David—

I don’t think this piece is too self-indulgent, but it is very much turned inward. The loss of a loved one is the most personal of subjects and makes the writer most vulnerable. You do a fine job of remaining controlled and composed. However, as a reader, I want a bit more in the way of images to hold onto. It seems to me that the N is focusing on the technical considerations of the music in order to avoid directly confronting his grief.

The last line is a bit set up, but I was surprised at how well it works.

One thing that struck me was that no detail of the departed loved one is shared. Could you help me to imagine her by giving a unique characteristic detail (an expression, a gesture, a garment) or two? I also wondered where the N is during the poem. Is he at her grave? The restaurant where they quietly celebrated her fiftieth birthday fifteen years ago? The house they shared?

Glenn

I wouldn't call it self-indulgent at all. My problem, though, is that the line breaks do not seem to be pulling their weight, which for me means they are not guiding or assisting the reader in terms of pace or phrasing or visual comfort. In terms of content, I think maybe you rely a bit too much on song titles and you are counting on the reader to know and feel the same way about the songs and what they evoke as you do, and you don't tell us enough about the I/you relationship for us to really get a sense of what they mean to these particular people.

IMO, this poem is a pretty good example of what's essential for poetry to resonate. You've achieved a pretty strong punch with this one with fairly subdued and modest language, and the reason for that, I think, is that your feeling is really coming through. It's emotional content like this where poetry shines.

I agree with Roger that it could be tightened up a bit. But honestly, most of it worked reasonably well for me except the last four lines. The lines themselves have the core of a good close, but the rhythm and execution felt a little off to me.

And I'll just add that my wife and I are coming up on 40, and 50 is feeling uncomfortably close after reading this.

Nah, not too self-indulgent, David, though I am one who has been known to indulge. But, in my view, that’s one of the beautiful risk-opportunities of poetry. Test them emotional walls. Anyway, I noticed how out of 25 lines, 15 of them end on “n” (or “ng”) sounds, and I like that here, that echo. Just some more thoughts...

Before I even got to the poem, reading the thread title immediately played the song in my head (and I still can’t get it out, haha). I didn’t get all the references, but I don’t mind that and I don’t think it’s a problem. For one, there’s nothing wrong with a more select audience, and, two, all kinds of (sometimes obscure) references/allusions pop up in poetry and I don’t see why they can’t in this case.

However, I’m not sure that you should bookend the poem with the title of the song. It takes some of the umph out of the close. And keep that close—it works very well for me. I’d be tempted, though, to lift another lyric from the song and make it your title. Like “I’d Pay The Devil to Replace Her” (if that’s how it goes—I think it is…) or some such. (Though now I'm thinking that that line doesn't hit the right note for this poem. Hmmm.)

Another (very small) thought is that I see the required repetition of “that” as an opportunity for a small stuttering gesture. As a line of its own, “or that” is, imo, a bit weak. However, if you don’t break on the first “that,” you’d have “or that that led us on.” It gives the line a stuttering uncertainty, which works in both the smaller context of the line and even more in the larger context of the poem. Again, it’s a minute detail, but that’s how I’d do it.

I really like the poem.

Hi David,

I agree with everyone, not self indulgent at all. As a poem, it's not your best but it's still good. My one overall crit is that like nearly every poem by anyone, it probably started with one thought or phrase, and then fretted over how to make the poet's connection to the moment clearer, or better felt, and I think the necessary artifice of that process shows a little more than it should. On the other hand, would-be poets like I look between the lines more than average readers do. A couple particular nits are noted below.

All the best,
Jim

David, I also see little self-indulgence. Writing a poem about losing someone is a classic theme.

You’ve received some good notes. The only one I have, and it may have been suggested earlier, is that calling the weekend “melancholy” is classic tell instead of show. That’s often a weak suggestion but in this instance it is a good one. “Melancholy” isn’t necessary. The poem is melancholy.

It may be inevitable that framing a poem about losing someone to death with a pop song will create a pop song-like poem. There is nothing wrong with that. It seems to fit the past relationship well.

I hope this helps.

Some reactions:

brings that beginning to my ears. None of the rest of the talk about songs strikes me.

I wonder what's gained by keeping me confused about when she died. I'm told she was expected to die within a year of her 50th birthday, but the poem seems to intentionally leave me in doubt about whether she did die then.

That muted celebration I'd like to see, in a glimpse if not in detail.

As soon as the poem turned to songs, I knew the title had told me exactly where the poem would end.

My biggest take-away is that this intrigued me enough to think about it, but that, with the exception of the lines quoted above, the poem keeps me at a disappointing distance from these people and their experience.

Thanks all.

That is the very thing, Jim. Three lines in, it occurred to me that ending every other line with a similar sound might resemble the tolling of a bell. (I think of Hardy's bell of quittance heard in the gloom.) So it may be a poem where the form has taken over the content. Or the form is the content. But that's what I was going for.

I agree it needs a different title. I am toying with other titles (not the bongy one). So far I have got "Moving on", "Do you remember the fabulous seventies?" and (probably my favourite so far) "The beat goes on".

Cheers all

David

.
I don't think you've found the title yet.

I made a few mixtapes in my time, and this poem is something of a poetic mixtape. I recognize most of the music but want to hear specific songs/lyrics from Astral Weeks and Dylan to give me better grist for the mill.

I think you should italicize the song titles.

The tolling of the bell was lost on me, though I hear it now that Jim mentions the "n' repetition. Still, the sonics don't echo the tolling of a bell. Well, maybe the "ng". Hmmm.

Music comes with a timestamp. Dylan, Morrison, Waits, Springsteen and Cohen occupy a period of my life (and in particular, relationships) I can evoke just by playing the music that colored my days then.

I like sentiment and even indulge in sentimentality from time to time, so I like what drives this.

But I think you could embellish a bit more to fully immerse yourself in the memories. Not overly so; just a bit more.

.

I really like The Beat Goes On, David. I was thinking of a title that actually includes the word "bell" in it because I wasn't sure that much of your audience would be able to put it together without it. I was thinking something like "Ringing a Bell," but to "to ring a bell" means recalling something vaguely-- suggests a memory that is hard to pin down, and so I don't think that would work here (unless it were somehow used ironically, I suppose). I'd go with the Beat title.

Hi David,

Self-indulgent probably isn't the word, but maybe a sense of wallowing in grief. Of course, there's nothing wrong with wallowing in grief. It's part of the process. I do think it lacks detail, though, especially details of the "you" addressed in the poem. The rhythm somehow works against the poem at times for me too, with some of the short lines creating a sense of monotony. (Even if that was intended, I don't think it works in terms of the reading experience.) I wonder if creating a bit more variety in the line lengths would help.

Considering how heavily music features, would you consider drawing on musical terms to weave a more extensive tapestry of imagery throughout, words like "melody", "rhythm", "chorus", "tone", "key", "harmony", "duet", "beat" and so on. Some similar term might also work as a title.

Thanks for sharing.

Trevor

Fifteen years on
from that melancholy weekend,
the muted celebration
of your fiftieth birthday [combine this line and the previous one into one line?]
when fifty-one
was not on the agenda, ["no longer" instead of "not"?]
if the doctors were not wrong,
I am laid low
by the memory of this song
or that [put of these two words at the end of the previous line?]
that led us on
through our teenage years, [one line: "leading us on through our teenage years"?]
[Stanza break]
Dylan’s soulful drone,
the mysteries of Astral Weeks,
the joyous explosion
of sound and speed [combine this line with the previous one?]
that started Born To Run , [or "that panicked/rushed to existence as Born to Run"?]
the healing lucubrations
of the saxophone
on Backstreets,
its fat and tender tone, [Remove last 4 lines? "the healing...tone"]
and then
that one
by Hall and Oates you liked, [anything more interesting than "liked"? "played to...death/numbness"?]
She’s Gone.

I like how the first and last lines connect. Music is important for building memories and that is evident in this poem. I think the only feedback I have is the decision to make it a continuous flowing thought with no punctuation besides the final end-stopped line. I feel like an end stop at line 7 instead of a comma would work better for me.

David , I really enjoyed your poem. First, you and I like the same music and even though I'm a bit younger, every song you mentioned means something to me and so I do not agree with the other critiques about not liking the specific use of song names. I found it made the poem very accessible and helped convey the important moments in your relationship that made the loss so profound. I have no revisions. I think it isn't self indulgent and though it may work better for an audience that knows the music, there are millions of us out here who do. Thank you so much for sharing!