[dearest]

4 -------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in a
Wood-paneled elevator
Creaking as if
To shake itself apart
And I thought it
Was just the floor
But as I’m thinking more
About what it will be like
When I get home
It becomes apparent
That I am shaking too
Standing in a
Wood-paneled elevator
And wondering if I’m
Still on your mind

3----------------------------------------------------------------------

Leaning in a
Blue-carpeted elevator
Watching the floor lights
Click down to the basement
Three, two, one, down to earth
And back to replaying memories
Of our Saturday night fights
Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten
Leaning in a
Blue-carpeted elevator
And wondering if
Our words will leave a bruise

2----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in a
Dimly-lit elevator
Pressing my face
Against the cool
Metal handrail
Wishing it were you
I was pressing myself into
That we could press
Against each other
Until we were
No longer two
Sitting in a
Dimly-lit elevator
And wondering if you
Would ever let me try

1----------------------------------------------------------------------

Standing, leaning, sitting,
In an elevator
Lying to myself and lying closer to
The scratchy carpet blue
And walls surround me too
And the lights
Are seeping through
This broken body going
Down down down
In an elevator
Missing you

------------------------------------------------------------------------ ding

[Vorcla]

Oh! Oh! Oh! I love where you added the floors counting down! You didn't have that on your draft. Nice touch!

This is my non-expert take on it. I like, as you described it, the fragmented feel here, because your protagonist seems to be in a fragmented state of mind, kind of disjointed. She's trying to put a relationship together; she seems to have all the pieces but can never quite seem to get them to line up. Very poignant, heartbreaking almost. It's kind of herky-jerky, like an old elevator.

Your language, as always, is exquisite. So smooth, such clean word choices. I really loved it right off the bat.

You are so good at this it isn't even funny. I think you've got a winner here, Tricia.

[dearest]

Yep, that and the rewrite of the second stanza were last minute additions. That sort of "oh, wouldn't it be cool if..." type of thing. Glad you like it. Is the "ding" too much though? Though I might be crossing into corny, but that really is the sound that elevators make, so I couldn't decide.

Well, thanks for all the kind words, and the preliminary pep sesssion. Your comments really help. Thanks again! ^_^

[Vorcla]

The "ding" is just fine. Makes for a nice coda. Good way to finish.

[Gurdit]

I had typed a comment out before this, but the stupid thing gave me an error when I submitted it.
Anyway, what I said was that this poem's really good. I really really liked it. I can't really pick out any flaws with it, to be honest. Your style's so really nice. It's fresh. It's almost like you are - lively and happy to be here.

If there's one tiny (very very tiny, and that too because there's nothing else I can pick a flaw on), it's this:
"Of our Saturday night fights
Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten"
So far (and in fact, throughout the poem), the imagery I've associated with your poem is the elevator going down (rather slowly too, seeing as how the lady in question seems to be on the floor before she gets from the third story to the ground). The count up (which I assume is the count of the number of fights, and so it fits perfectly with the line that proceeds it) goes in the opposite direction though, thus kinda putting a smear on your otherwise perfect imagery. Having said that though, I can neither think of a better way of writing those lines, nor would I have even mentioned this had there been ANYthing else I could have picked a flaw with.

I like.

[dearest]

Yay, you commented! Thanks! ^_^ Yep, good catch. That is true. The number were counting the number of fights, but also representing how the ref would count up at a boxing match to declare the winner (you know, you're down ten seconds, the other guy wins the round?) Just another plug for the saturday night fights/boxing metaphor. I see where you're coming from though; the metaphor might be getting in the way of the bigger overall metaphor. Sigh. Metaphor inside a metaphor, it's all so confusing. ^_^ Thanks again for your thoughts Gurdit, I'll take a look at it.

[Reik Mohican]

I haven't read too many poems on this site, but this is by far my favorite, I didn't even catch the floors in the margins because I was too busy reading the poem itself. The numbers going up in the second stanza gave me the image of the subject riding up and down in the elevator instead of just going down.
Overall I really liked how it flowed.

[Vorcla]

"...eight, nine, ten -you're out!"

I'd leave that - as you said, ties into the boxing metaphor. I don't think it detracts from counting down the floors.

Just as nice as the last time I read it! ^_^

[dearest]

Thanks Reik, and thanks for the second read rick. Much appreciated.

[Nupur]

Tricia, I love your writing style. I adore the fact that you don't stick to a fixed norm, and instead, make your own rules. A lot of your poetry is unconventional, which brings a freshness to everything you write, and that definitely is your USP.

Coming to this one, I really like it. Your language is clear, clean, concise and precise. I love how you ended each stanza by repeating the same thoughts and using a powerful last line. The concluding part of the first stanza is my favourite. Made me go 'wow'.

The boxing ring metaphor was very well executed by using the numbers and then 'bruise' in the last line.

Third stanza, the entire 'wishing the metal handrail was you' part is awesomely ingenious.

Nice ending with the clear 'missing you'. Depressingly heartbreaking.

I'm sure it would be easy to identify with your protagonist because the way you have described her feelings and emotions is really nice. The reference to 'broken body' and the entire theme of the elevator going down (and not up) built up the scene for me. I could clearly visualise a woman with a relationship gone bad. You connect with your audience very well indeed.

The 'ding' in the end is one feature I really like about this one. The stopping of the elevator symbolised a finality in the tone and situation. Perfect ending.

One little thing that, according to me, could do with a little improvement is capitalization. I don't think you need to capitalize the first alphabet of every line. Lowercase to enhance continuity would be nice. Overall, I love this. Refreshingly different.

On another note, I love your sig. Was watching Roman Holiday the other day. Reminded me of that. Audrey was lovely.

[dearest]

Thanks so much for the comments nupur, sorry I didn't see this sooner! ^_^ I agree about caps. Don't have time to do that right now, but it's on my 'fix it' list. Good suggestion.

PS. I was watching it recently too. Love Audrey Hepburn movies. Charade would have to be my favorite, Breakfast at Tiffany's is good, and My Fair Lady is very...musical. ^_^ If I could look and speak like anyone, I think it would be Audrey.