Hold the Phone!

Hey everyone!

So this week I won't be posting a poem because I'll be busy performing in HPA's production of Brigadoon! The following Tuesday I will be posting. Just a heads up!

Thanks!

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Oops! Said the Barber.

Oops! Said the Barber.

"Oops!" Said the Barber...

Then the customer cried...

"You've cut it too short!"

He said right away,

Going on to contort,

"What a mess! Disarray!"

Anyway, the Barber then spoke...

"Hey Mr. Grouch! To you I convey,

I haven't betrayed,

Not at all I do say!

You sit here and whine, while me you survey,

When I haven't an ill trait of mine to display!

I've put up with you, to this very day,

Never once leading astray,

But now I give way!

You're downright rude, so please don't stay,

Leave here, begone now, you got it? Okay?!"

The man replied...

"If I may, I have many friends,

And it may seen cliche,

But I'll name all of them!

There's Ray, Clay, Bray,

May, Kay, Shay,

Janey, Renee, McVey,

Hongwei, Jaquay, and O'Shea.

I apologize for the delay, Mr. Barber,

But in the U.S.A.,

If you make my hair stray,

Which cannot be sprayed,

So it will not stay,

But instead sway,

YOU, I do not have to pay!

So I MAY disobey, got it Jose?"

So the man left, to buy a toupee.

Background: The inspiration for "Oops! Said the Barber" came at the duration of receiving an unfavorable haircut. I had to deal with short, unpleasant hair for five miserable weeks while I waited for it to grow back. After receiving this haircut, I began thinking of my distasteful experience and decided to write out my feelings in comical poem form. The only significance of this piece is that the characters feelings mirrored my own at the time... There is (obviously) NO particular rhyme scheme or meter. A majority of the end consonants rhyme with each other, though the overall effect is relatively choppy. I actually posted this on my main blog page (http://discoverdomostria.blogspot.com/2010/04/oops-said-barber.html) a while back.

Basics: A man receives a poor haircut by a barber one day. The barber reacts indignantly by stating that he has never made a mistake before and the man has no reason to be angry or rude. To this the man reacts by telling off the barber and abruptly leaving the barber shot. Oddly enough, both the characters speak in rhyme. ;)

I apologize that the piece for this week isn't that impressive... When I wrote this piece, it took me all of twenty minutes from start to finish (including proof reading!) to organize the work to where it was in a satisfactory state. I chose this piece for this week because I've been bogged down with exams... When I post on the 5th, I shall have a better piece to share.

Thank you for reading!

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

Box Of Memories

Box Of Memories

I shipped a box to Europe,

With memories inside,

Of feelings past and deeper hopes,

I never thought I'd hide.

In this box were artifacts,

And letters which we wrote,

When we were young and sidetracked,

And sailed the seas of life afloat.

Back I think to years gone by,

To days I thought I'd treasure,

Knowing not we'd go awry,

And face a great endeavor.

Her laugh was quite the pleasing sound,

More than a trifle chuckle.

When heard, my heart would leap a bound,

And both my knees would buckle.

Lush green eyes of hers I'd catch,

Whenever she did wink.

Eyes like hers no one could match,

Not ever I don't think!

Her hair was medium in length,

Shining bright and gold.

The sight of it brought inner strength,

A true sight to behold!

Her face was soft and ripe with youth,

And lightly painted features.

Her perfect smile was easy proof,

There was no finer creature!

What a beauty that was she,

Glorious and picturesque.

At a time someone could see,

A picture of her on my desk.

I close my eyes,

And shake my head,

And breathe a sigh,

And frown instead.

I frown to think that once before,

She was my greatest inspiration.

A constant joy to me and more,

Without a single indignation.

The thought of us and what we had,

Truly makes me cry,

Because she thought me all that bad,

And judged me by and by.

She was my first unwritten song,

Which never ceased inside my mind,

A song I searched for, oh so long,

But never thought I'd find.

Now the music's halting, ending,

I simply can't recall the words.

This song of mine has lost its meaning,

In place of it is pain and hurt.

This horrid bitterness controls me,

From the inside out.

I don't know who, or what to be,

Because of all this doubt.

Sadness, anger, woe!

Inflicted on my very heart.

Injected by this single girl,

Who's torn it clear apart.

I gave a once full heart to you,

To do with as you may.

Alas, I was a bitter fool,

And clueless, I convey.

To your fickle ways,

Of shallow implication.

You seemed to say,

I wasn't worth your attention.

On the day you moved away,

I met you near your old wind chime.

Little had we left to say,

Knowing it was time.

When you finally left this place,

You turned and walked into the dawn.

Stepping with a matchless grace,

Until each step of yours was gone.

Now I snap back from the past,

Blinking back the tears.

Reliving shadows being cast,

Feeling somewhat queer.

I live here now all on my own,

Without your sweet embrace.

You moved to Europe all alone,

Your problems yours to face.

I think, wonder, question, anticipate...

Did you receive my package?

Background: "Box Of Memories" is, in essence, my "crowning glory piece." Written in early April of last year, I feel confident in saying that this piece best exemplifies my writing capabilities. During late March of 2010, I had a conversation with a fellow poet pertaining to "epic poems." It was during this conversation that I realized I had not yet written an "epic" piece which involved serious rhyming, meter, depth, or symbolism. I understand that this piece can hardly be called "epic" (for those of you who are unfamiliar with this term in relation to poetry, an "epic" can be translated to: a poem with length which tells a story). Though it is short in relation to actual "epic" poems/stories (i.e. The Canterbury Tales, The Odyssey, The Iliad), "Box Of Memories" is a more lengthy piece for me, hence my reason for calling it an "epic."

I attempted to stick to an Iambic Pentameter, but as you can see, I diverted from this in a few of the stanzas. Although the meter isn't perfect, the rhyme scheme is quite sound (ABAB). The piece is written in first person reminiscent.

I had been meaning to write a short story in poem form for quite some time, and I was pleased to finally accomplish this ambition after being inspired by circumstances between the time frame of late March to early April.

Basics: "Box Of Memories" gives an account of a man who reminisces about a past lover while mourning the recent tragedy which was their downfall. He remembers her physical appearance while taking careful note of her flawless attributes. In the beginning and ending of the poem, a box of memories is mentioned. The box is significant because it symbolizes the love that the man and the woman shared. There are two possible options which the reader may conclude the man is sending the box to his ex-lover.

1.) Sending the box is a final plea for the woman to change her mind and come back to him.

2.) Sending the box is a negative, insightful act to remind his ex-love of the bittersweet romance they shared.

Neither is specified as to prick the imagination so that you might come to your own conclusion. After describing the woman's radiant features, the man details how special this woman was to him. You may notice that the man switches halfway through the poem from talking about the woman, to addressing her directly, as if he is actually talking to her. I did this on purpose to emphasize the man's standpoint. He then goes on to explain that she eventually rejected him due to problematic personal issues which arose between them in the midst of their relationship. He reacts by claiming that he was abundantly foolish to entrust her with his heart in the first place, for she grew tired of him and began ignoring his words of endearment and acts of affection. In frustration and desperation, the woman moves to Europe as a final attempt to distance herself from the man, leaving him to deal with his conflicting feelings of bitterness and admiration.

I very much enjoy writing pieces that end in woeful tragedy. As strange as it may sound, it makes me feel like Edgar Allan Poe... He happens to be one of my favorite poets for those of you who might have wondered. What I truly desired was to write a poem that was touching and sweet, with a surprising yet captivating twist to the end.

This poem embodies the very heart and soul of what I enjoy writing, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to read a little piece of me.

Feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

Most sincerely,

~Jacob P. Hartges

If You Need Me

If You Need Me

When the sun rises, I'll be here,

When the sun sets, I'll be here.

When the moon shines, I'll be watching,

When the stars glisten, I'll be watching.

At every moment of the day,

I'll be watching from afar.

From the distance, here I stay,

Looming as a star.

If you want me now, I'll be waiting ,

If you want me not, I'll still be here.

If down you are, and spirits fading,

I wish for you to call me, dear.

At times we do misunderstand,

And separate ways we go,

But in the end we comprehend,

The truth which we now know.

That if you ever lose your way,

Or find by chance you happen to fear,

A hardship that is not okay,

I'll save you from the nightmare, dear.

With all my heart I wish you'd run,

To me with all your troubles,

But no, I see you wish to shun,

When all of your pain doubles.

When you need a friendly face,

Or someone to be near,

I'll hold you in a close embrace,

Because I love you, dear.

Just know this:

When the sun rises, I'll be here,

When the sun sets, I'll be here.

When the moon shines, I'll be watching,

When the stars glisten, I'll be watching.

So have some confidence in me,

Here for you, I'll always be.

Background: "If You Need Me" was written around the same time as "Letter of Recognition." As a reader, it is more than probable that you will draw similarities between the two poems. Both pieces deal with about the same concept. While I was writing "Letter of Recognition", rhythmic lines began popping into my head. These lines I wrote on a separate piece of paper so that I might create a better structured piece. While "Letter of Recognition" can easily be defined as my poetic musings, "If You Need Me" is a better structured poem conveying an almost identical message. You shall (hopefully) notice that a majority of the lines are rhythmically in tune. Though lacking in perfect rhyme and rhythm consistency, the general idea remains unwavering.

Basics: "If You Need Me" is essentially a man's declaration of loyalty to his lover. The man affirms in the beginning of the piece that he shall be readily available at all times to comfort and encourage her. At the end of the piece, the man reaffirms this statement once more to further demonstrate his sincerity. What makes this piece different from "Letter of Recognition" is that the character in this piece is less persistent than the character in "Letter of Recognition." This character leaves the option of sharing more intimacies up to the girl. Though persistent indeed, he is conscious of the possibility that she may value her privacy more than their relationship.

Thank you for reading!

Feel free to comment and criticize, I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges

A Letter of Recognition

A Letter of Recognition

Each day I am with her, I see her pain.

I watch it, this sadness, hinted upon her beautiful face,

And though she masks this sorrow with a smile,

Still I see through it, I know her too well.

It grieves me so, to hear that she is hurting.

Even so, I do all I can to help.

Yet I wonder if it has any effect...

I pray, and listen, and comfort, and empathize,

How can she be so disheartened?

I urge her to share with me, for I do truly care.

She's independent and strong, a leader in the making.

Does she not realize these trials occur to make her stronger?

I wonder.

It surprises and astounds me,

How she can encourage me and put my world back into perspective,

And not ask for anything in return...

She is so busy giving away love to others,

Yet she keeps barely enough for herself.

Selfless love such as this should never be forgotten, especially by those to whom it's given so freely.

My definition?

She's selfless, kind, a true friend, in a single word, heroic.

I wish more than anything she would see,

I want to be there for her.

She does not need to hide from herself,

Even if part of her struggles at times.

Don't hide it, I'm here to help.

Your tone of voice gives it away,

Believe it or not, I can see it in your eyes.

Exposing your weakness is not weakness, it is strength.

Bridge the gap, take a step, close your eyes, open your mouth, and speak what you feel.

So one more time she smiles at me, and says, "All is well."

I nod in helpless agreement, and silent adoration.

Background: "Letter of Recognition" was written last year. The inspiration for this piece originated from my writing letters to a friend. While writing one day, the concept hit me, "Why not conjure up a piece detailing the complexities and disappointments of a poorly functioning relationship" (keep in mind, this friend of mine and I were getting along perfectly well!). Though there is nothing structurally adhesive to this piece, I would like to hope that you, as a follower (and potentially critic) of my work, might appreciate the thought and time I put into this piece. In posting this one, I do feel comfortable in stating that I believe this is one of my better works. No, there is technically not a rhyme scheme or meter in this poem, but hopefully you will find that the words are rhythmic and cohesive at parts.

Basics: "Letter of Recognition" is ultimately a self-explanatory piece. A man feels as though the person he is in a relationship with, is not sharing personal details with him. He takes notice that she is struggling through life's trials, and so desires to comfort and empathize with her. But she is independent, not desiring any assistance from him. The man reassures with many comforting words, only to be denied. However, his respect for her is unwavering. The man admires her for her independent nature, but at the same time understands that this same quality keeps her from opening up and sharing with him.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges

Poison

Poison

Although my time was not yet fit,

I boldly took a sip of it.

The taste was not of one to savor,

In truth it was a horrid flavor.

I drank the mix to kill the pain,

Of sorrows past which brought no gain.

Though now I'm having second thoughts,

As I grow faint from inner knots.

I drop the cup that did me in,

For now my head is in a spin.

From this cruel fate that I had chosen,

I lost my life to deadly poison.

Background: "Poison" was written just over a year ago for American Literature class. The piece received an "A", but also got me into a bit of trouble... After turning in the poem for evaluation, my literature teacher interpreted the poem as though I was actually suicidal! A major "oops" on my part. Maybe next time I write a downcast poem on poison drinking, I will remember to write it in third person. Ironically, the teacher held a brief meeting with my parents to ensure that I was not suicidal. My mother of course affirmed to the teacher that the poem was strictly fictional. Although the piece is perfect in meter and rhyme scheme, "Poison" received only an "A" due to the dark/disturbing subject. Once again to clarify, the piece was written as an assignment for literature class with NO predetermined background pretext! If you have been paying attention to any of my previous works, you will clearly see that I have a deep appreciation for life.

Sadness is simply an emotion I enjoy attempting to evoke at times.

Basics: "Poison" details a man who chooses to commit suicide after overwhelming worldly burdens overpower his thoughts. At first, the drinking of poison appears very appealing to the man, but he soon realizes upon drinking the mix, that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. The man is filled with regret as his final moments come and go in a flash.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges

Forbidden

Forbidden

We met just last year, through friends of our friends,

But now things have changed, as do such trends.

We have much in common, both artists the same,

We both chase our dreams, and reach for the fame.

No relationship between us can ever be built,

Endless would be the tears and a lifetime of guilt.

Secretly meeting just wouldn't be fair,

Because my heart's taken, by one I do care.

This pretty, young girl, I am very fond,

But careful of my feelings, I can't let them bond.

Mixed emotions running wild,

Feelings farce and not so mild.

Affection from her I shall never gain,

And if she did give it, there'd be nothing but pain.

Our talks together I will never forget,

Though with each passing one, I start to regret,

The attachment that my heart has let form,

I won't let it happen, desires can't reform.

These words of false love shall never be spoken,

For if this were done so, both hearts would be broken.

So us, as just artists, is all we'll remain,

Nothing but this secret, my heart will refrain,

From selfish wishes, these feelings stay hidden,

Along with hopes, desires, and a love that's forbidden.

Background: "Forbidden" was written about three years ago. It started out as an experimental piece with little depth, but after a few weeks, I decided to turn my scribbles into a seven stanza first person piece. You may possibly be thinking, "but Jake, there are only six stanzas!" To which I might respond, "how correct you are, oh insightful reader!" My first draft originally had seven stanzas, but after much deliberation, I decided that the piece was better without the seventh (which was located in the direct center of the poem). As for the concept itself, a few hours of brainstorming and experimenting led me to create "Forbidden." This piece is significant to me because this is where I first tried to make the rhyming exact and fluid. Notice that this is the first piece I have posted with a sufficient rhyme scheme (though lacking in perfect meter).

Basics: "Forbidden" tells a short story of a man with a taxing decision to make. He is currently seeing someone, but has a secret desire for another woman. The man claims that he and this woman both have much in common because of their similar professions. Back and forth the man debates within his mind what he should do/which path he should take. He knows that in confessing his feelings to this woman, he is forfeiting the woman he is currently with because that would render him unfaithful. Regretful, but firm in his final decision, the man decides to keep his inner desires secret, all the while deeming himself selfish. What the man is obviously feeling is not love of the heart, but lust of the flesh. I attempted to make this evident throughout the course of the poem. Though ignorant enough to consider the possibility of committing infidelity, the man's final decision proves him unworthy of a title deeming him completely unfaithful.

Thank you for Reading! Please feel free to comment and criticize. I welcome all feedback.

~Jacob P. Hartges