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This poem in particular is incredibly personal to me. Not in the sense that I wish to shield it from the light, rather, it reminds me of somebody that I used to, and perhaps still do, know.
I never understood why people were so obsessed with fractals
They repeat over
And over
And over
And over
Forever
Of course there’s mathematical uses for them. Albeit very few, but that’s not the point.
People feel happy watching them
I guess they think it’s mesmerizing
I just see shapes
Its a situation where nothing can go wrong, where what comes next is exactly what came before.
A situation where you don’t have to consider what the future may hold.
And that’s something that scares me
It’s shapes repeating over and over
And it scares me
If someone ate only cod from the day they were born, would they get a craving for pork?
…
What do you do when you have stray thoughts about a person you used to know?
Are you sad?
Are you angry?
Do you get certain a feeling when a picture reminds you of somewhere you knew like the back of your hand?
Somewhere you grew up, but never called home
Nostalgia would not be the right word.
When I’m sitting in my dorm and I see a fractal on Instagram or YouTube, I shift my weight from the seat to my shoes
I move my phone a little further from my face
My grip loosens
My heart picks at its scabs
And a slight frown creeps from out my mouth to rest on my lips
If someone ate only cod from the day they were born, and awoke to see a cut of chicken beside them, would they know it’s edible?
What would they do with it?
…
I’m not sure I would’ve known any better than the adults back then, for if the prisoner thinks they want to stay in a cell, who am I to object?
Open the front door
Go down about eight or nine wide wooden steps
Take a right
Walk about seven steps forwards
At least seven steps for the stride length of an eight year old with a hunched back
Take another right
And open the door on the left
You’ll find it
It’s a shame I can still see that blue painted sub-basement after all these years.
…
If someone ate only cod from the day they were born, and I stumbled upon them, assuming they lived like the rest of us.
If I saw they looked happy left to their own devices
Would I still think to ask if they want a granola bar?
I never understood why people were so obsessed with fractals
They repeat over
And over
And over
And over
Forever
Even when nobody is looking
When nobody is telling them to stay put
They’ll keep repeating
It’s all they know how to do
Originally written: 06.04.2024
This is part of my ongoing transfer of poetry from my notes app to a place where perhaps it can connect with others. As always, constructive criticism and discussion is welcome. - SG
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Derusione_K
This definitely reads like a very personal poem for you. As someone who both fears and craves change, this poem to me felt like holding a double-edged sword and holding it against my throat.
I love the subtle irony of the writer repeating their words despite despising the repetition in fractals!
Also, maybe it's just a bias from my usual style of writing, but I think certain sentences in your poem could be split up for a better tempo. For example, the line, Of course there’s mathematical uses for them. Albeit very few, but that’s not the point. Can be written as:
Of course, there are mathematical uses for them.
Albeit very few,
but that’s not the point.
Because I noticed people tend to not pause for a line even when there are stops in it. You could write the 2nd sentence into just 1 line too. Or maybe it's just your unique style! :D In any case, I'm not an expert, though I still love reading your poem! Really love how you use your metaphors (⊼⌔⊼ ) Looking forward for more of your writing!!
Thank you so much for your comment! It's a little late in my part of the world right now, but I'll make sure to give it a proper reply tomorrow :)
by Shaynen; ; Report
No worries! Have a good rest! m(u_u)m
by Derusione_K; ; Report
Hi again Derusione,
Thank you again for the kind words and feedback. Simultaneously fearing and craving change is something I definitely resonate with, though less so now than at the time of writing the poem. I'm glad you pointed out the repetition. I feel like including some sort of repetition/chorus is generally a part of my writing style, and it ended up working out well thematically in this case.
I understand your point about tempo, and I will try to implement that with the next writing I make. I suppose that I wrote this one a little more like a script to be read to an audience rather than a story for an audience to read themselves.
Thank you for helping make this poem into a learning experience for me.
Out of interest, what do you think the poem is about if you had to take a guess? And what do you believe the narrator's connection to the content of the story is? (I had one in mind when writing the poem, but I feel like in terms of interpreting of a poem, there should be no firmly established "right" answer)
by Shaynen; ; Report
Hello again, Shaynen!! I have thank you too because I just love reading others' poems for inspiration and learning their styles too! :D I wholly agree that there must be no "right" answer to poem interpretation, because I myself as a writer may even have a change of perspective when re-reading my poems :D
As for my guess about what your poem is about... I read it as a perspective an outcast to the uniform society, someone who doesn’t fit into the traditional roles society has set. Maybe it's because of me being queer and neurodivergent and all, but this poem feels, idk how to express this, insertable(???) This poem gives the same feeling of looking at a loved one and knowing that they won't ever be able to accept you because of their beliefs/doctrine. But I can also see it as looking at your best friend from high school who might not even recognize you (or worse, accept you) after you went through a massive change (whatever it is) in the time you were separated. And the writer doesn’t seem like they could escape this, as they keep coming back because that place, though unaccepting, is the only place they've ever known to accept their façade. So, in a way, the writer is also stuck in a cycle, a fractal you may even say, of keeping oneself to their "comfort" zone.
Wow, that was a very scrambled answer, sorry. I tend to follow my stream of thought when I write :") I don’t even know if it made sense. Well, since it's the weekend I think I'll read more of your poems to get a bit more of you, iykwim. Maybe after that I can come back to this and understand it a little better! Every writer's soul bleeds in every piece they write after all (at least I think so) and I hope you continue to write, still! Best of luck! ＼(´ ∇`)ノ
by Derusione_K; ; Report