Locomotive

I watched over the years as I took up

Space in the folder labeled “Sara” in your mind.

I guess your brain was running low on memory,

Because I seemed to have gotten the boot.

 

The files are being shredded one by one

By the woman you now call home.

You can pick up the phone and not be

Alarmed when you haven’t spoken to me in

Days. And I can leave my phone in my purse

 

For hours and I won’t return to a dozen

Drunken voicemails. It was flattering, even

Though I never said it. But you knew,

And  I’m sure your chest bloated a bit

 

When you realized you could never

Do me wrong. The folder in my mind

Is depleting. But I know now that you don’t

Always need a chance to say goodbye.

More just a chance to say all it is

You need to before it is forgotten.

 

 

Reviews

[h d e rushin]

OH my!

There is something to be said, something ultra poetic and modern, yet deceptive
in this new-fangled technology. My mother had a dial phone in her living
room and all conversations, whether in or out, were the babble of truth, or truths
permissible requirements. What I mean is that, a dear friend of mine cuts his
phone off at certain times of the day. When I asked him why, he just says that
he likes to control the voices around him. (?) Kind of like that contraction that is
so often associated with Mark Twain were it was alledged that he said that
"sometimes there just is no truth to tell". Wow!

"But you knew, and I'm sure your chest bloated a bit
when you realized you could never do me Wrong".

Never a more 21st centure statement if I ever heard one. I like this poem.
I like your treatment here, your scope, your sumbols of liberty.....good work, dana

[saratogaparty]

Wow, thank you so much, I was sitting here smiling when I read this review. I'm actually still smiling now!

[Creepy Swine Guy]

I like this poem a lot. Largely for it not being agnsty and whiny (which I am guilty of myself from time to time), But also for the innovation of using a computer system metaphor for eroding love. VERY clever.

My questions are ...

1) Why the physical breaks in spots where thoughts were still in midstream. That was very disconcerting for me.

2) In S2L2, you refer to "By the woman you now call home." ... I am a little lost. Is that a third person in this situation, or are you referring to the narrator?

Lastly ... Not a crit, but a "just wondering" ... how'd you get that title?

[saratogaparty]

haha I try to stay away from angst and whining. Mainly because I hate to hear myself do it.

There are physical breaks where ever my mind takes a breath. My poems are usually tangents (which I'm not entirely proud of, but definitely my favorite to write. They're like my thoughts, but the deeper ones, the ones that don't really hang around when you continue your days.)

"The woman you now call home" is this specific person it is written for's girlfriend. He now calls her home (feels she is his home now (a place the narrator of this poem may or may not have been for the same person only months before)).

I actually thought about the title for a long time. I wanted to convey that I was moving on, growing up, reacting to situations better. But I also felt forced to move forward with my life (not linger around him). We had just learned about Locomotives in one of my classes and I just put it together.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Thank you for your gracious clarification. :^)

[zainul]

Wonderful story based on ICT jargon.
Enjoyed it.

[saratogaparty]

Thank you very much!

[zainul]

You are most welcome,dear friend.

[writing mojo]

WOW, great placement of word., the story in your imagery stacked poem flows very well, i am very intrigued already, melodic, mellow, melon, juice with seeds, that's your voice color... i am guessing

[saratogaparty]

Aw! Thank you so much! I can't write the poetry without a story. Not because I don't want to, but there's just story in everything I do and everyone I know has got one.