Looking Through That Window

Looking through that window,
On into the distant horizon,
Hand on the glass,
Trying to touch the image.

A reality beyond my access,
The cold glass,
The warm horizon.
A world away.

All time passing in the landscape.
While I’m trapped, inside a time stuck. Still.
Looking out past this glass,
Into the the warm sunset,
That I cannot feel.

Waiting, wanting, thinking.
Feeling.
Feeling the yearning.
But beyond this glass barrier,
All I have is a numbing barrier.

The cold glass on my skin,
Cold eyes,
Going numb and tired.
Tired of,
Looking through that window.

The world,
Changing,
Moving,
Living.

Behind the glass I find myself placed.
Staring out,
Out into the world.
Thinking.

Trapped in this place,
Behind this glass,
A barrier to feeling,
To touch.

But then there’s that warmth,
A small flame of hope,
Just over that horizon.
Just beyond,
To be reached for,
To be found.

But for now.
I find myself.
Looking through that window.
The cold of the glass.

Looking through that window.


Thinking of a person I haven’t seen in a long time, they helped me so much. I kinda miss them. Miss them. But they’re probably busy and have a lot going on. But still. Remember the goodbye. But oh well. Time always passes.

I’m not sad, just thinking, I guess this is a storyesque poem then, kind of. I’m actually quite happy, having almost finished all my essays, in plenty of time. Also listening to a kinda sad song.

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What was I Supposed To Do

What was I supposed to do?
When you came back,
And knew I wanted no part.
Forced your way back,
To cure a loneliness.

I’m done with blaming myself for other people’s faults.
The crime of only caring about oneself,
Stepping on the throats of others.

It’s my fault,
For not standing my ground
Caring for me.
Yours for seeing what it could do,
And going on with a smile.
To make it worse.
To blame it all on me.
For being me.

An end come good.
I needed to stop,
Administering poison to my wound.

Need to remember,
There is light in this world,
That doesn’t come with pain or malintent.

What was I supposed to do?
When I tried to escape,
You knew I tried,
Wouldn’t let me.
Saw what was happening,
Smiled and carried on.

What was I supposed to do.

The Sad Setting-Sun

On the horizon,
The sad setting-sun,
The orchestral symphony of colour,
The beauty soon to fade.

Tears streaming down a face,
Witnessing an end.
A finite into darkness.
Witnessing a new era.

A time of renewal.
Accompanied by an end.
Tears streaming down a face,
The sadness of a setting-sun.

The inevitable end,
Known in advance.
Hoped would never come.
The symphony of colour,
Soon to go,
Never to be the same.

The memory,
Also soon to fade.
Tears streaming down a face.
Witness of the end.

On to new beginnings,
Better times.
Tears still streaming down a face,
Witness of an end.
A time come to close.
A change so profound.

Waiting for a chance to stay,
Knowing the path lies ahead,
To take a step into the dark.
Off and away.

Tears still streaming down a face- the sad setting-sun.
To let go,
To walk down this path.
Turn turn your back.

To face the setting sun. A last goodbye.
The new beginning to come.
The sadness behind a setting-sun.
With tears streaming down a face.

The End Has Come. The World Goes On.

The end has come,

The finale, the finite experience.

The realisation.
A life I thought I had lost.
Now come to a close.

Given a glimpse.

The future.

To a change I didn’t want.
A change I have found.
Complete novelty.
Different.

The death of the old path I walked,
Kept alive, within my memories.
Fading fast.

A new path outstretched.
New, unfamiliar.

The world goes on.

The path behind me collapses.

A singular choice.
Now the end has come.
To step forth or fall.

‘Truly A Book To Capture It All’ – Review of Stoner by John Williams


He had wanted the singleness and the still connective passion of marriage; he had that, too, and he had not known what to do with it, and it had died. He wanted love; and he had had love, and had relinquished it, had let it go into the chaos of imagepotentiality.

Katherine, he thought. ‘Katherine.’

And he had wanted to become a teacher, and he had become one; yet he knew, he had always known, that for the most of his life he had been an indifferent one. He had dreamed of a kind of integrity, of a kind of purity that was entire; he had found compromise and the assaulting diversion of triviality. He had conceived wisdom, and at the end of the long years he had found ignorance.

Stoner by John Williams, page 285


Stoner, by John Williams, an usual book to start. But. Totally encapsulating. Containing so much feeling, meaning experience. I will give my review of the book, not really a formal review, but one looking and reflecting on the book, feeling and experience of reading it. I endeavour not to mention explicit spoilers, but I do mention my emotional experiences reading it and the emotions it passed onto me (the inspiration for my poem ‘Feelings Not My Own’)

Stoner, a book of an experience, an experience of fiction, but somewhat real. The feelings it portrays are totally real and totally thrust me into the story, caring, experiencing and feeling.

All of the poems that I wrote yesterday, took inspiration from the book, around the section of the above quote, I had to stop. To savour experiencing the end, the feeling, when I could concentrate and experience without distraction and reflect through this blogpost.

The feelings this book can capture and enstill on the reader, are immense, I would describe this book as an emotional rollercoaster. The feelings of love, happiness, existence and passion, but, at least for me, the book seems to emphasise negative feelings. But not ‘negative feelings’ in the conventional sense. I would describe these feelings as negative, but without feeling, a portrayal of the reality behind existence, the reality behind being, the existence of life, and one’s place within it. Here I shall endeavour to encapsulate my feelings and experiences in regards to the book in its totality:


The discovery and ecstacy of love, finding a crush, the feelings behind planning, the future and struggling and succeeding despite all adversity. The choices to be made in life, choices that make us, shape us, define us. The choices we make, the choices that aren’t owned by ourselves, until we make the decision. Then the choice becomes ours, becomes personal and meaningful. There is also the adversity of life not overcome, adversity in existence, the tiresome living, the hurting of family and friends, the loss of those we care for.

The watching as life rolls by, and we make what we can, leave our mark but inevitably fail to find conventional ‘happiness’, but, find a form of contentment out of the adversity, contentment with pain and dissatisfaction, not out of choice, but out of necessity to keep on living. The pain and somewhat helplessness in dealing with situations and people encountered in life.

The friendships made and kept and solidified through truth, adversity, hardship and mutual love and care. As life goes on, never enough time, never enough done, never enough success to make one feel full and content, nevertheless contentment and perseverence and change to overcome all adversity.

It is totally encapsulating a feeling I cannot express with words; a feeling of contentment out of unrelenting discontentment, of existing without achievement, but continuing to persevere for your aims and continue to keep journeying to achieve them, even if you never actually achieve them, you make the journey anyway and contently, live out your life with the aim in mind, the objective aimed for.

The book’s ending (from around page 285 until the end), I will try not to spoil (as much as I can while expressing my more affective ‘review’). One that encapsulates the book, the ending, a fitting end, one that captures and summarises the whole book, not in a repetitive manner, but one suitable to, in my opinion, its aimed portrayal, of life, without highlight of the good times, without hiding the bad times, but merely portraying human experience, in a way that truly resonated with me. The portrayal of sadness, closing, finality and happiness, dissatisfaction, reminiscing and also summarising and deep-contemplation. The very last page. Written to perfection. Even thinking of it, causes my eyes to well-up. A perfect, concise, summarised end. Like the finalities found in everyday living, without show, or celebration, without positivity or negativity, just sweet, maybe reluctant, but nevertheless final, end. Drifting off into silence. As the words on the page end with the final period… and then… silence.


A powerful story, I know that I paint a bleak picture of the novel, but, it is more than this. It’s more than the sum of its parts (not to mention the subjective experience of the reader that needs not be said). It is a book, not everyone will like, it’s writing is definitely unconventional, but I find this is its beauty, it captures reality, as nothing else does. Captures reality, much like my poetry does for me, and also the poetry I read from many others on WordPress. Capturing reality, for what it is. The highs of the good experience, the lows of the bad. The real life existence. The one we share, both content, and also discontent.

Although I say it’s a novel that not everyone will ‘like’, I would say that I think everyone should give it a read. I would unapologetically be happy to suggest this  novel to anyone I know, especially anyone I feel comfortable to talk to about personal and emotional matters.

To personally summarise this novel and my experience reading it in very few words:

A book that captures reality. For what it is.

 

 

I would like to write a note, to my very close friend who gifted this novel to me, inspirsation for ‘Little Gift From the Heart‘, thank you so very much for this book. I sure hope that you do not see this review, and if you do… that you do not think it too harsh, or feel the book’s been a saddening experience. It has been a realistic experience, a vicarious living and experiencing of a life, not my own. Yet also I see past experiences, events, ways of thinking also appear throughout this book, almost every couple of pages. This book was a mixed experience to read, but an invaluable one, and one I am a better person for reading. Thank you, thank you very much Ruby.