v2. Disembodied

[alonso ramoran]

Disembodied


Years of distance gathered like a fog
in collapsing houses. The warmth in voices
retreated to their silhouettes.
Everything that memory held
in retreating warmth was offered
to the stars like fevered vespers—
a raving barely understood
and still wanting to be understood
by those as present as the full earth
from the moon. And now that the sublunary
cannot be touched, it is clear what was
and was not dreamed.

My throat-tight bid for reconnection
with my sister, in the backseat
of a rental, going through the mountains
of papa’s motherland at sunset,
never happened. But there were gazes
burning with apology in new silences,
that were turned upon the mountains to avoid
spoiling the time we still created, gazes
that explain this lingering.
She only felt my distance
growing through the years, until I
was helpless as a newborn
and everything and everyone that caught the sun
became the stars
and the coldness in between.

v1. 

In-Between


Years of distance gathered like a fog
in collapsing houses. The warmth in voices
retreated to their silhouettes.
Everything the temporal held
in retreating warmth
was offered to the stars
like desperate vespers—
prayers that were never meant
for the understanding of those as present
as the full earth from the moon,
while relayed visions burned for understanding.
Now that I'm too far away, no longer able
to touch the sublunary, it is clear what was
and was not dreamt.

My throat-tight bidding for a reconnection
with my sister, in the backseat
of a rental, going through the mountains
of papa’s motherland at sunset,
never happened. But there were stoic variations
of my bidding, familiar to those mountains,
which explain this lingering.
She only saw me growing more
distant through the years
until I was helpless as a newborn
and everything and everyone that caught sunlight
became the stars
and the coldness in between.

[matsunosuperfan]

In-Between


Years of distance gathered like a fog
in collapsing houses. The warmth in voices
retreated to their silhouettes.
Everything the temporal held
in retreating warmth
was offered to the stars
like desperate vespers—
prayers that were never meant
for the understanding of those as present
as the full earth from the moon,
while relayed visions burned for understanding.
Now that I'm too far away, no longer able
to touch the sublunary, it is clear what was
and was not dreamt.

My throat-tight bidding for a reconnection
with my sister, in the backseat
of a rental, going through the mountains
of papa’s motherland at sunset,
never happened. But there were stoic variations
of my bidding, familiar to those mountains,
which explain this lingering.
She only saw me growing more
distant through the years
until I was helpless as a newborn
and everything and everyone that caught sunlight
became the stars
and the coldness in between.

Great, great language. Maybe a few too many lines in a row of dense, ungrounded, pithy declaratives - it was a real breath of fresh air to get the sister in the backseat of the rental in S2. Might be lazy of this reader to want more like that in S1 but this reader nonetheless does. Mea culpa. 

The first three lines are just stellar poetry. 

The rest of S1, I am mostly convinced by, but it does begin to take a little effort. If I were in a bad mood I can see myself finding this speaker a tad pretentious, or at least presumptuous, or at least a bit willfully vague, a touch too watery. (desperate vespers..prayers never meant for... earth, moon... visions... far away... touch the sublunary... kinda a lot, YKWIM?) 

 I'm a hypocrite bc I put starry shit in the end of one of mine recently, but this ending does feel more generic than I'd like it to. The rest is so strikingly originally and personally voiced. Hold to that standard, IMO. 

Yeah it's all just a bit too much in the wisps-of-significance direction at the moment; some more narrative-adjacent exposition and concrete imagery would be welcome. But I really like the tenor of this piece and think it's doing fantastic stuff with its diction.

[alonso ramoran]

Thank you! Made some edits with your crit in mind.

Great, great language. Maybe a few too many lines in a row of dense, ungrounded, pithy declaratives - it was a real breath of fresh air to get the sister in the backseat of the rental in S2. Might be lazy of this reader to want more like that in S1 but this reader nonetheless does. Mea culpa. 

The first three lines are just stellar poetry. 

The rest of S1, I am mostly convinced by, but it does begin to take a little effort. If I were in a bad mood I can see myself finding this speaker a tad pretentious, or at least presumptuous, or at least a bit willfully vague, a touch too watery. (desperate vespers..prayers never meant for... earth, moon... visions... far away... touch the sublunary... kinda a lot, YKWIM?) 

 I'm a hypocrite bc I put starry shit in the end of one of mine recently, but this ending does feel more generic than I'd like it to. The rest is so strikingly originally and personally voiced. Hold to that standard, IMO. 

Yeah it's all just a bit too much in the wisps-of-significance direction at the moment; some more narrative-adjacent exposition and concrete imagery would be welcome. But I really like the tenor of this piece and think it's doing fantastic stuff with its diction.

[matsunosuperfan]

Thank you! Made some edits with your crit in mind.

I like your edits. We are rounding into shape. 

For me the weakest bit is still the lines about "sublunary," where I feel too much narrative distance. I would like to be more directly confronted with the speaker's emotionality here. Maybe: 

And now that I can't even reach the edge
of the sublunary, can't tug its hem, it is clear
what was and was not dreamed. 

...something like that, y'know? It also better anticipates the shift into a more colloquial conversational register in the 2nd stanza. 

"gazes burned with apology" and "a raving barely understood" are so much more tactile than the lines they replaced, nice work