For tonight's poetry class I needed to write two poems, one in open form and one in fixed form. I chose a villanelle form for the fixed one. I sat at the counter during lunch and took a long while to think of something to write about. My poetry tends to be fairly autobiographical, exploring what I have witnessed and how I felt about it. I like the open form version best because it suits me best. I said exactly what I wanted to say. But when I had to take the same subject and put it into the villanelle, it was almost impossible not change some of the sentiments of the situation.
A few of you all were at the Amy Ray concert at The Dame a few weeks ago. My ex was there, and this is, for the most part, how I felt about that.
I haven't titled it yet..... Ideas?
Open Form:
Amy Ray on the stage –
red tee and plaid pants –
booming bass and melody
out of the tall speakers standing
over me, almost overwhelming.
The chords crowd the air
as feet dance crowded beats.
Streetlights and car lights filter
in the door with cropped haircuts,
purses, smiles, and smokers.
A friend alongside me,
Amber Bock in my hand,
I look down the long bar
past women holding hands,
bartender opening beer bottles,
and see at the end, her.
All night I never saw her
eyes looking back at me.
I knew she saw me.
Fixed Form: Villanelle
Never saw her eyes see me at the bar
when she walked in under The Dame’s streetlight.
Chords crowd on stage from Amy Ray’s guitar.
Cropped haircuts, purse-strings, and smoker’s cigar
mill around by the bartender. Tonight
Never saw her eyes see me at the bar.
Booming bass unknown on my NPR
and melody of hope to reignite;
Eyes steady on Ray’s electric guitar.
Women holding hands, smiles, laughter: all are
basked in bottle glare. And in her own right,
Never saw her eyes see me at the bar.
Amber Bock in my hand, a friend not far
away, speakers’ loud pound, and I delight
to dance, to sing, to see Amy’s guitar.
Though the star of her eyes is my own scar,
I know she saw me that midsummer night.
Never saw her eyes see me at the bar,
but not always were on Amy’s guitar.
......
So, the second one makes it sound like I wanted to get back together with her. I do miss her, wish she would allow us to be friends, but that's her choice and I can't change it, just abide by it. But I do miss her smile and her eyes. But no, my feelings that night was not anywhere near the want to get back with her. Actually, my feelings were quite split ALL night long.
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