After

[CalebPerry]

This is the part where we become friends
after the love has died; where kisses
turn to texts which trail off because
I am now someone she never misses —

unlike the days when she couldn’t live
without me. Perhaps I should be glad.
Friendship is a deeper kind of love,
or so I've heard. I miss what we had:

long nights of skin pressing warm skin,
becoming animals ‘til dawn.
But every night must end. Nothing lasts
forever, or even lasts for long.

But are we still friends? That is a thin
reed to cling to now it’s over.
I won’t learn to love her as a friend
until I snare another lover.

Original ending:

I haven’t heard from her in nine days.
If I love her I must let her roam.
I won’t learn to love her as a friend
until my aching finds a new home.

-end-

Although I'm gay, I sometimes get tired of always representing the gay point of view in my love poems, so I wrote this from the perspective of a heterosexual male. Also, I thought it might help all you alpha males to appreciate it more.

My concern is primarily the bridge from stanzas 1 to 2.

[CalebPerry]

Given that no one has commented on this in 3-1/2 days, there must be something wrong with it; but I won't know what that is unless you tell me.

[Firebird]

Hi Perry,

Generally I think it’s ok, but it’s all a bit too familiar/generic for me and dare I say it, unoriginal. I know what you mean about the ‘bridge‘ between s1 and s2 being a bit of a stumble, but I think it’s ok. Some specific comments below.

Cheers,

Tristan

This is the part where we become friends
after the love has died; where kisses
turn to texts which trail off because
I am now someone she never misses —

unlike the days when she couldn’t live (could not?)
without me. Perhaps I should be glad. (‘Couldn’t live without her’ is a bit of a cliche)
Friendship is a deeper kind of love,
or so I've heard. I miss what we had: (‘what we had’ is fairly worn out language)

long nights of skin pressing warm skin,
becoming animals ‘til dawn. (strong two lines)
But every night must end. Nothing lasts
forever, or even lasts for long. (Strongest stanza for me)

But are we still friends? That is a thin
reed to cling to now it’s over.
I won’t learn to love her as a friend
until I find another lover. (This is fairly familiar territory, which doesn’t add much insight to this situation)

Original ending:

I haven’t heard from her in nine days.
If I love her I must let her roam.
I won’t learn to love her as a friend
until my aching finds a new home.

-end-

Although I'm gay, I sometimes get tired of always representing the gay point of view in my love poems, so I wrote this from the perspective of a heterosexual male. Also, I thought it might help all you alpha males to appreciate it more.

My concern is primarily the bridge from stanzas 1 to 2.

[JJWilliamson]

I find myself agreeing with Tristan, Perry.

The first three lines are a good hook in my opinion but it trails off into the mundane after that. It's a pleasant enough read
and I wasn't bored, finding the questions interesting.

I also wondered if you were going for some kind of meter. It seems to read well from a rhythmical pov and the rhymes
are fine, unforced and believable, but I did study your meter. L4, for example, is perfect iambic pentameter with
a headless first foot and a feminine end. You appear to going for IP all the way and I've left a couple of examples
but will say more when I know what your intent was. Tricky one, this.

This is the part where we become friends ...I get a couple of scans out of this line. Are you stressing 'we'? I did and ended up with two stresses on beCOME FRIENDS.
after the love has died; where kisses
turn to texts which trail off because
I am now someone she never misses —

unlike the days when she couldn’t live ...Nice troche in the third foot. Good IP
without me. Perhaps I should be glad.
Friendship is a deeper kind of love,
or so I've heard. I miss what we had:

long nights of skin pressing warm skin,
becoming animals ‘til dawn.
But every night must end. Nothing lasts
forever, or even lasts for long.

But are we still friends? That is a thin
reed to cling to now it’s over.
I won’t learn to love her as a friend
until I find another lover.

Original ending:

I haven’t heard from her in nine days.
If I love her I must let her roam.
I won’t learn to love her as a friend
until my aching finds a new home.

-end-

Best

JJ

[CalebPerry]

Tristan and JJ, thank you for your feedback. You gave me what I needed. I do think that these things have been said before.

I can't say more because I'm trying to fix a computer problem. Thanks again.

[lotus]

Although I'm gay, I sometimes get tired of always representing the gay point of view in my love poems, so I wrote this from the perspective of a heterosexual male. Also, I thought it might help all you alpha males to appreciate it more.

dear Perry

i find using "she" in poems speaks of feminine energy
rather than masculine energy
and has more to do with sensitivity than sexuality
and that a "she" or a "he" is not any specific person

i would enjoy to hear this poem spoken
in a so called romance language i.e. Spanish, French ,Italian

a warm smile
silent lotus

[capricorn]

Hi Perry,

I am wondering what this might sound like if' 'she' was changed to 'you' so it would be addressed directly to the person. Also, 'you' could then be female or 'male'

Eira

[Pauline]

Perry. If you keep this in the first person, I feel it's a much stronger piece.

Is the part where we become friends?
After the love has died and our kisses
turn to texts which trail off because
I am now someone you never miss.

I remember the days you couldn’t live
without me. Perhaps I should be glad.
Friendship is a deeper kind of love.
Or so I've heard. I miss what we had.

Long nights of skin pressing warm skin.
Becoming animals ‘til dawn.
But every night must end. Nothing lasts
forever, or even lasts for long.

But are we still friends? That’s a thin
reed to cling to now it’s over.
I won’t learn to love you as a friend
until I find another lover.

I Love this.
Every single word.

One of your best for me.
Thanks for sharing.

[CalebPerry]

I never thanked the last three people who commented on this poem. I was having computer problems that week, and I got sidetracked, after which this post slipped from my mind. Thanks to all of you, Lotus, Eira and Pauline.

I wonder if the three of you agree with Tristan and JJ that the sentiments are hackneyed. I know this has all been said before, but this is nonetheless my "take" on it. Is there nothing original in the poem?

Pauline, I'll experiment with putting it into the first/second person to see if it is improved. The version that you wrote out isn't quite my style.

Thanks again.

[Macavity]

the sentiments are hackneyed.

Not sure I understand the question Perry. The sentiments are human and part of life. If I was the poet, I would be well pleased that the poem made such a connection with Pauline. The reflective voice of the poem does engage the reader.

best

mac

[CalebPerry]

Thank you, Mac. I guess by "hackneyed" I just meant that this has all been said before -- that's what I got from Tristan and JJ. I don't think that I can rewrite it at this point. A few lines are weak, but the rhymes are in place and the poem is basically finished. I think I'll just have to see it as not one of my most original efforts.