Notes to my Teenage Self
don’t listen to them as if dirty fingernails measure your worth just sweep up your clippings and watch how your skin heals every single time you’re tough as mown grass although you never feel it it’s all skin their whimmerishness their soft petal velvet their quiet buzz pretending everyone wants their honey take away the camera and we’re all the same glitz deep and full of blood but don’t buy my shoes walking on the beach you’ll be in the surf-line footsteps washed away just like the nail clippings this whiteboard life is full of wisdom that nobody else sees if you keep erasing it you can keep secrets or just buy bigger boots age is like music growing around you harmonies or feral strains and you sit in it it's a ride, a journey, and it's not all bad so let yourself be a little; like a foot stool in a cafe just colourful enough to have a reflection in the floor
The Title is from Go Dog Go Cafe
I can’t remember who had the prompt to write to your teenage self. But thank you!
This is a poem that tastes of war, that’s for sure. It’s rough-edged and gritty, and in a way I can’t precisely explain (because I’ve not yet had a cup of coffee), it feels tormented. My hope is that you keep writing and writing.
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Thank you Misky. I think your pre-coffee perceptions are excellent and your wishes match mine! Many thanks. I accidentally just typed your name as M8sky. What do you think? Quite chummy.
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I like it. Like besties. ❤️
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Yes indeed! ❤
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I love this concept, Worms 🙂
And you write so beautifully too 🙂
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Thanks, David!
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I don’t altogether understand this but I like the mood of it. I love the word whimmerishness; it sounds like the sort of thing I say after one too many beers!
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Well I always have been the kind of person who can sound like she’s had one too many beers. It’s one of the reasons alcohol has largely remained separate from me. 😆
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🤣🤣
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Wonderful! I especially like:
but don’t buy my shoes
walking on the beach
you’ll be in the surf-line
footsteps washed away
just like the nail clippings
and:
so let yourself be a little, like a foot stool in a cafe
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Thanks, Bob. Your feedback is very much appreciated. 😊
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“glitz deep and full of blood” 😍 Great write!
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Many thanks Tricia!! 🙂
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I love it. There is a bitter sweet mood in this. You are a Master in setting moods.
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Thanks, Ulle! 😊
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What a powerful poem, Worms. I love the title, and its stellar imagery the way the surf is erasing everything. My favorite line is “tough as mown grass.” Yeah, I picture you that way.
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Thanks, K. I so appreciate your words. ❤❤
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I love the peremptory tone thats set at the start; ‘wimmerishness’ floored me ; In wish I understood the last three lines ; they taunt —
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Thanks, John. 🙂
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I enjoyed the roughness and rawness of this. And I loved the title. “Tastes like war” had me thinking of “Smells like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana, which was a good connection given that this was addressed to your teenage self.
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Thanks JYP. The title was the prompt. I am so glad you think it suited the mood of the poem.
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