tomorrow

Tomorrow I’m 22.

Does that mean

I haven’t killed myself yet,

Or that I’m living?

Tomorrow you still

Won’t be talking to me.

Have I moved on,

Or have our memories

Become my fetish?

Am I expecting answers

Or just challenging you,

Now that you’ve put down

The board pieces.

I must be playing with myself.

I must have a profound philosophy

But no motivation.

I’ve led a very long life

Because it’s very long

When you live like this.

I’m not wise beyond my years

But I’m beyond my years.

I’m not youthful

Or optimistic

But not fully developed.

That means I have to crouch over

To compress the void

Left by missing organs;

To pretend there is no space

For what I’m dying without.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Please critique this poem.

View rashmiitz's Full Portfolio
Bryan Adam Tomimbang's picture

Rip! I must've been retarded not to mention this at all, Happy birthday if it was your birthday...

Bryan Adam Tomimbang's picture

Sure, no problem. I've been wondering where you've gone at postpoems. It's been awhile since last November you wrote when I critiqued another one of yours...

I like this poem, your writing style is far different from mine and though it may seem as simple prose, there's a complexity behind it that I really admire and respect too.

I think I'll break this poem down according to my interpretation and I apologize if it doesn't match your original intent.

"Tomorrow I’m 22.
Does that mean
I haven’t killed myself yet,
Or that I’m living?"

~to me it seems more the wrestling of the self: man vs. himself (internal struggles, coping with vicissitudes, deciding ethics, conformity versus individuality, etc.) as well as man vs. society (oppression, war, any vice you can think of than can harm the self) and since life is an uncertainty, an impermanence, adding another year to one's age really does suck having to deal with all this s***, but on the other spectrum contribute to betterment for yourself and/or others which is what the living part is all about. Whatever the circumstance, it can teeter depending on the situation you're in. What's more worthful so far: life or death? Continue and struggle for existance or just end it all?

Or this part can imply worthiness. Is it worth having to go another year at 22? What have I done so far that's worth living?

Or another implication can be basic goodness (which still relates to worthiness). Shambala teachings imply from what I've read that there is a basic human goodness to all; not something meaningless.

"Tomorrow you still
Won’t be talking to me.
Have I moved on,
Or have our memories
Become my fetish?"

~Once again, this may allude to the wrestling of the self. It's as if talking into a mirror, expecting yourself to find answers, to find out who you are and what you are, a kind of internal shoveling, possibly finding your place in the world? Or personal answers one cannot find himself and thus continue digging for it? As for the memories you said, it's very interesting you used the second person plural 'our' which I believe implies:

myself and the self (the one I'm searching for, the one that is the 'me' or the ideal 'me' is what I'm trying to say)

There's a past part of yourself one may be searching. Possibly past experiences, good or bad (with the bad, perhaps closure of it), or may be people in one's life that you miss, or even yourself you may be looking for. A memory or feeling that you may yearn to return to you. Well whatever it is, I wish you good look finding it.

"Am I expecting answers
Or just challenging you,
Now that you’ve put down
The board pieces."

~Life is a game fraught with choices, dilemmnas, and solutions. Chess can be an analogy and on the subject of self, you're playing a match against yourself. Life has placed the pieces into the game and whatever circumstance that is, whatever positions the chess pieces are in, you have to go with the flow and play it. It's like that saying:

Why do hot dog bun [packages] come in tens and hot dog weiner [packages] come in eights? What do you do with the remainder?

It's not a question of what do you do. You just live with it. Go with the flow in Life. Go with the game. Don't whine nor complain which is what most do...

It's a challenge, of course. Life I mean. Expecting answers and challenging you (the self) will end the same. Life may have its rules, its positional play, strategies, problems, endless solutions to use, but the end game is the same for all after we are done playing(death).

"I must be playing with myself.
I must have a profound philosophy
But no motivation.
I’ve led a very long life
Because it’s very long
When you live like this."

~everyone accrues some philosophy wheter it may be from culture, traditions, religion, philosophy itself, ethics, values, etc.

But I'm saddened that there's no motivation.

:-{

You're alive. That should be your motivation. You're privelaged to breath, to think, to be. I think that everyone takes that for granted especially for those who struggle with themselves and their lives too. Man vs. himself. Man vs. society. That core, basic idea that you're alive.

So struggle for that existance because there is a healthines, a goodness hidden behind it that few are truly aware.

And all the things that you've gained in life, any thoughts, even though to some may be derive from environment, still, there's an application to it. You can apply it anywhere. It's just how you use it, whether for good, bad, or indifference, that makes it matter. That gives it magic and animation. Preferably I'd do it for good but since there are so many ills and corruption in the world such as politics, so much crap in there too, it's a matter of fighting for one's beliefs (as long as there's no violence or killing).

So even though that we may live our lives however long that may be, life should be a motivation. For me, it's to change it for the better for everyone. But that's just my thoroughly biased opinion.

"I’m not wise beyond my years
But I’m beyond my years.
I’m not youthful
Or optimistic
But not fully developed."

~You're still young, man. I'm young too, younger than you.

Life is school. Think about it, everyone's gonna learn something. It's inevitable. Even the little things we learn. But we're all human, we can't all be fully developed into something "perfect." The self can't be perfect. The ideal self would be but the reality wouldn't fit. But if that happened, there would be nothing human about it. Besides we all have strengths and weaknesses, no doubt.

"That means I have to crouch over
To compress the void
Left by missing organs;
To pretend there is no space
For what I’m dying without."

~There isn't an emptiness to what you are or what you've acquired. Dealing with that self may be difficult, but think about it, everyone is fighting there own personal battle out there, that battle with that self and/or with society. It may differ from person to person but fundamentally the game we all play in life is the same throughout. The missing organs you've mentioned may be a necessity, something we can't live without, but I think that even if it is, that is another battle one must face head on to develop one's optimum potentiality in life and what one can do and your thoughts and what you've learned, but never one's ideal perfection. You do what you can.

(^_^)

I'm sooooo sorry it took this long to write a whole freakin' critique but I honestly like this poem. Thanks for the mental stimulation. Sometimes I come up with some of the most eccentric interpretations so sorry about that too if it isn't clear to you and not properly organized. One more sorry, if it really is a poem about turning 22 and not about what I've said, sorry I overkilled it and turned the poem into something else...

Keep writing! Your writing styles and philosophy on some things here, I truly respect that about you. (^_^) Cya.