Striving For A Natural Reaction

I’d like to be the one

staggering from the scene

of the car wreck – singed

skin and spilt gore – to

spew my sensitivity

over the lay-by,

 

but sense that I’d

just feel nauseous

for the rest of my life.

 

I try my hardest

to gag while stripping

chicken of its body parts,

but the un-surfaced

mechanic in me

rips automatically;

 

and as hard as I try,

I still scrape my plate

at dinner time.

 

Occasionally, a strong stomach

comes in handy, like

whirling through the air

at Blackpool Pleasure Beach,

strapped onto a propeller

unheeding of my fear

that vomit would lunge

and deposit itself

all over the

birthday girl.

 

 

 

Mostly I just worry

that the proverb’s

got it wrong,

and my heart

is as cold

as my reptilian hands.

 

Author's Note

Does the first stanza seem okay?
Constructive reviews very welcome. Thanks.

Reviews

[Bel]

I like how you take a physical reaction as feeling ill at the sight of blood as an introduction to the question that really plagues the protagonist: am I an insensitive person? I especially like this line:

I try my hardest
To gag while stripping
Chicken of its body parts

This image is really strong in that it conveys how desperately your protagonist is to feel something, anything really, even repugnance.

Th initial image of the car crash makes the scope of your poem wider; it's not just about the protagonist's need for emotion, but it also underlines the general apathy in nowadays' society when it comes to violent images.

I feel you have combined three related scopes on one topic here: physical feelings, emotions, and group dynamics. I like it very much.

Bel

[Gandré]

I liked Bel's review of this piece - yes, it is the fact how you show in this piece the following fact "also underlines the general apathy in nowadays' society when it comes to violent images. " This piece reads like "the author wants to cause at least some reaction, , for society is apathic in its seems self-contained system. I liked this thought-provoking piece!

[holly]

The first stanza really doesn't need any change but I understand why you ask. Re-reading our work in a different frame of mind than when we wrote it always seems to reveal those little hitches in the flow. The entire work moves along at such a lively clip that I have to go back and re-read for meaning, since I've just been enjoying the sound in my mind. Loved this one especially. The ending thought was so well put and so familiar.

[zig]

ok, im going to stop commenting for a little while, so i can read these straight thru, enjoy them more, then ill be back with thoughts. if you dont hear anymore from me for awhile, just know that im engrossed and engaged. zig

[Emily B]

We do what we have to, sometimes. Like with babies, we are granted the grace to clean the nastiest of messes. Not sure I could do it now, though. It must be a passing thing.

Holding the hand of the dying, pulling someone away from a burning car, we are given the strength that we didn't know we had. Good stuff here.

[Rain]

This is an odd piece. I get this feeling you believe you are not honest with your feelings, that you write without a poets heart, that you are too technical, too detached. Of course , I am notorious for misinterpeting. I rip the hell out of chicken parts. I'm really interested in knowing your intent on this one , especially the last stanza.
As a piece of writing, I was interested all the way through. You always write intelligently. Perhaps , there's the rub. Do you feel the sentimental , emotional part is missing ? You have peaked my curiousity, C. Rain..

[Invisible Ink]

We are always wondering what is "natural," what is "normal," in a dysfunctional society, maybe that's just my step-mother and me (a therapist and a teacher)... but I certainly have had that striving all of my life, having numbed myself due to childhood abuse, still to this day, I sometimes ask myself, "Am I feeling anything?" Also, being so desensitized by the horrific images coving the tv these days, no one feels anything when they see the real thing. "Our troops gunned down a village of women and children today, so what's for dinner?" So you begin with extemes, this violent car wreck scene, where if you were in it you couldn't help but feel the physical pain...yet, you get out of it. Only, your second stanza is more the norm... I've been in wrecks and it takes years to get into a car with someone without being nervous. I love this scene with the chicken! The wording is absolutely perfect! It takes me back again to the desensitixed nature of our world, where we don't know where our food comes from... I have a hard time cooking chicken myself. The next made me laugh out loud. Very clever poem. I think you are a genious, and since I want to be one too, I will have to keep reading, for an example of what to do!

[S. P. Vaporis]

Good word play in this one. Conveys duality and I love duality!

[Narnie]

Hmmm... it's easy to relate to this one. I sometimes think that I am immune to the pain and suffering in others - my daughter falling over and Im going 'there, there' while she screams in pain. But there's that feeling, that pain, deep within your groin when they first hurt themselves and then natural instinct kicks in to stop yourself overloading your fears onto them. Do we become so conditioned in this that we forget to feel? I'm not sure.

Your poem is simple in structure even though it uses complex thoughts to convey a very private emotion. Fabulous stuff. It flows beautifully.

[Rie Sheridan Rose]

I like the dichotomy of this. Someone who has such depth of emotion as to realize that they aren't feeling anything strongly. It is one of those moments when human nature fully asserts itself as a bundle of contradictions. I really enjoyed this, and the images you chose were perfect to get across your meaning. Very nice piece.

[Aaron J. Wald]

this piece made me think of a slaughter house butcher. Would the butcher be able to grieve for the family cat or dog... or maybe even a relative after seeing so much death?

I also thought of mortitions, doctors...Surgeons... Well, Your poem made me think.

"I try my hardest
To gag while stripping
Chicken of its body parts
But the un-surfaced
Mechanic in me
Rips automatically;" This one verse made me gag. I really had a hard time reading it cause I am a vegitarian... And I imagined an over-weight man... like an Italian Godfather guy, tearing at the chickens flesh, and licking his fingers while chewing on the remaining bone: making a discuisting slurping noize as he polishes off the last morsel... and saliva running down his chin. (EWWWW!) I now can't get that out of my head. I liked this poem though. Even though I imagined a very discusting thing... I liked it.