Same, same but Different

it began with snow, a wind
that tore my brain, parts of
the Black Sea froze &

Hongkong lost its money (all of it)
i’m not political– no, this
affects me very personally

cause we stand and pull
the triggers of emergencies
as if we’d find an easy Way Out–
as if doors would open suddenly,

i keep walking in the snow,
mobile on my ear & blood drips
from my fingertips into the keyboard
as I type:

This is Real Life
This is about Losing– losing
everything and never
finding it again,

my veins keep PuLSinG–pULsinG

in the rhythm of the day, the rattling
of the tram, the opening and closing
to a frozen world outside, eyes–

getting heavy, want to give in, they all look
same // Same // same but Different–

from the cold,
an icebear walks the aisle,

and we stand frozen,
clinging to poles like marionettes
with limbs too heavy or too sick
to run towards the exit–

& he crawls my back
in circles from the outside in, just–
as i like it, just like vinyl records
on a player–

Listen // to the melody
between the screeching,
in an endless loop // and weep

like madmen until terminus,
when morning dawns &
when it’s time to finally arrive–

somewhere

.

and it’s OpenLinkNight at dVerse again– where we get warm by wrapping poetry around our frozen hearts and ankles…and brian miller will be rocking the mic..wanna join us..? doors open 3pm EST..

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83 responses to “Same, same but Different

  1. wow, what a ride the real life serves up at times. “outside in, just like vinyl records”. that is brilliant. at my age things are seemingly the same quite often and I would rather cling to a pole and hope the bear keeps on a walkin’. I am too ticklish for a massage. Well, maybe in this situation a good bladder emptying laugh might be theraputic.

  2. An interesting write, Claudia. You did great weaving in the various elements under the guise of metaphor. As always, love the twists in your poems. It’s never a straight road somewhere, but a journey multiple places.

  3. Wow it once more sounds soooo cold. I’m glad I’m indoors. And poor Hong Kong was it that mean old Donkey Kong? I bet he teamed with the math guy and made the money fly, right out the door. And vinyl records were before me, yet I still have used them at my sea.

  4. What a wonderous read … I can only guess the meaning of it … feel it … can’t put it into words … I like that … Sending you warm greetings, my friend. Love, cat.

  5. I don’t mind holding on as long as they don’t break at lightening speed and send me flying. Happened to me as a bus conductress too many times to recall.
    Lovely piece, we’re feeling winter chill now too, but, it could be much, much worse than it has been here (so far) not counting chickens though 🙂

  6. “we stand frozen,
    clinging to poles like marionettes
    with limbs too heavy or too sick
    to run towards the exit–

    My favorite lines . . . powerful!

  7. Every poem takes us into another world, where the light isn’t quite the same – and neither are we at the end of it! Love it, Claudia.

  8. Okay, Pamanner picked my favorite lines also…such an apt picture…Everyday Poems features one of your poems today…excellent!…but, of course…I was reading it and thinking that this poem makes me think of Claudia, and then there was your name at the end of the poem 🙂

  9. whew you capture a bit of madness with your pen friend…some really nice word play in this…the pulsing…the same same…the record playing scratching and screeching is strong too engaging other senses…we do pull trigger like we can just fix things and it seldom happens just like that you know…

  10. I always love the expansiveness of your writing. Like a widescreen movie. Didn’t imagine that it’d end there…

    “and weep

    like madmen until terminus,
    when morning dawns &
    when it’s time to finally arrive–

    somewhere”

    but I Iiked it – a lot.

  11. powerful stuff, like word-video-images flashing by on my mind

    i kept hearing that song, but with iron, “baby it’s cold outside…”

    thanks claudia!

  12. I love the

    “..PuLSinG–pULsinG”
    And the imagery, the season of this poem. I almost thought it would end on “arrive–”

    What made you take it to “somewhere..”? Just wondering.

    Thanks as always Claudia.

  13. “cause we stand and pull
    the triggers of emergencies
    as if we’d find an easy Way Out–
    as if doors would open suddenly,”

    Simply. Wonderful. Poetry.
    🙂

  14. Really nice Claudia, the imagery in the first half of the piece was certainly a wow moment for sure. but the way the whole piece was strung together, that is poetry in a nutshell. Outstanding job. Thanks

  15. as if we’d find an easy Way Out–
    as if doors would open suddenly

    You are expecting too much from a snowy winter… no escape, but through your beautiful way to put it
    Love it Claudia!

  16. Blood drips from my fingers into my keyboard as I type- love this line. It made me think of Hemingway- and his descriptions of a man sitting at a typewriter and bleeding. For me this poem; albeit abstract , gave me a sense of personal anxiety about something- like looking forward to a journey you’d rather not be going on, or place you feel uncomfortable in- a familiar place- a place revisited that s no longer the same. would love to know more about the inspiration behind this. Stylistically amazing- is stylistically a real word? 🙂

    • I saw it kind of the same way. Winter was far away for me. I just felt this as being a tale of sadness and anxiety, the cold just being part of the feeling. I don’t know, this echoed so many things in my life right now that it made me cry. Especially this part:

      “cause we stand and pull
      the triggers of emergencies
      as if we’d find an easy Way Out–
      as if doors would open suddenly,”

      Great writing.
      There’s never an easy way out, be it snow or a personal struggle.
      Thanks for the read!

  17. I found the end especially moving (in the sense of touching–the whole thing gallops along.) A lot of ruined people walking around–although in New York, you feel like the people who were on top before the crashes get on top again pretty fast. K.

  18. This poem is going to take me more than one reading, but this part really grabbed me:

    ‘and we stand frozen,
    clinging to poles like marionettes
    with limbs too heavy or too sick
    to run towards the exit–’

    Powerful words forcefully written 🙂

  19. Compelling read, I especially liked the stanza:

    & he crawls my back
    in circles from the outside in, just–
    as i like it, just like vinyl records
    on a player–

    Complex yet relate-able.

  20. oh my. i can see cold puffs of breath coming from your lips as you speak these words… this IS real life, your words are always so real, so now, so full.
    you are a master.
    and now i have to go back and read it again.

  21. I think as I read you again, what makes your work unique, unattainable, so specifically your own, is not in your words or in your metaphors. Your poetry is like good skating. People who watch sports or at least “artistic sports” get caught up in the elements, the “moves” just as we, poets get caught up in the “words”. But what makes good skating, what sets a champion apart is transitions. Moving from one thing to another seamlessly without notice, without telegraphing it. That’s what you do. First we’re here and then we’re there and one has to read it over to find out “how” because it’s always so natural. That is greatness and Claudia, you are a champion.

  22. I know I hate those moods also. Pain never ending dullness over and over……We move on….. Great poem though I felt its Icy cold fingers.

    Iggyn8us

  23. You always seem to manage ot bring us along on whatever journey you are taking…we feel and see the sights and sounds around you…they become ours…an excellent write again.

  24. Love the journeys you write and take the reader on, and this is no exception… and loved what Gay said about your poetry. The turns and transitions are smooth– even amidst the exciting ride. Love it, as usual!

  25. Everyday we get up, get kids ready for school, or commute to work and it’s the same but for there is always something different, a feeling, situation or just life doing its thing…I like how you’ve pulled this together, I can really visualise the tram…people getting on and off and yeah waiting for those doors to open…to anywhere! Well that’s what I felt!

  26. “it began with snow, a wind
    that tore my brain, parts of
    the Black Sea froze…”

    Hi! Claudia…
    Once again, your first stanza “jumped” out at me…as your very [beautiful] poetic words left a sting across my own face…However, after reading your very poetic words my frozen hearts and ankles…thawed.
    Tks, for sharing!
    deedee 🙂

  27. You never get lost in your poetry, tho, Claudia…That you will always have. What a write..what a journey!

  28. The world’s weather is sure out of whack at the moment… ice across parts of europe and our country experiencing extreme heat in the west and flooding in the south east… crazy, crazy times! Really loved this Claudia!

  29. The fabulous thing about watching your poetry is seeing you become more and more sure of your voice. That’s what’s important, really. We can all talk about politics, or the Patriot game, or existential self-questioning – but it’s the way you put it down on the page, your cadence and line-breaks, your punctuative expressionism – that makes for your uniqueness. Bravo.

  30. This is powerful in the way it pulls me in and spins me around in such a way as to get in. In to a world where greater forces try to tear us apart. There’s danger here, but your words guide us thru it like signposts to regeneration, the hope of transcendence. I think you’re on to that envisioning of the world that is required to bring it round right again, and set it on its axis so that the interplay of emotions and act finds a true balance again.

  31. I felt like I was in your mind during this train ride. How subtly, yet powerfully you comment, and think about the world’s condition. Some folks here wrote some really meaningful comments too, about your poetry. Ditto.

  32. As with many of your comments, I too so enjoy the visuals you create in your words, this piece no exception. Powerfully executed ~ Rose

  33. Sorry to be so late commenting, Claudia–this is one of your usual out of the park shots–I feel for you in this deep winter icebox you’re having over there–know people die in such weather, not to mention the economic ice age, and the margins are wiped out in white–the image that stays with me though is the scratching on your back, going round and round closer to the center, and the finish, like a record…chilling is an understatement.

  34. i love to read your poems at least two or three times because the words wrap around me differently each time. the passion… the rhythm… the backbeat… the intensity builds with every new reading. stunning, claudia! ♥

  35. the sense of bewilderment is palpable in this intelligent piece. Sometimes it is impossible for me to wrap my head around some of the ongoing blatant absurdities in the world… so I could really identify with your sentiments. I really enjoyed the rising sense of urgency in this as well as the punchy musicality/cadence that carries the reader along this chilly ride. Well done Claudia.

  36. I assume you know how good you are at this. Feeling the screeching against my skin, hearing, seeing, texture metaphors put me inside the scene. Genius stuff, Claudia. I’m into the shift from concrete to abstract today, so my fav:

    This is Real Life
    This is about Losing– losing
    everything and never
    finding it again,

    Yep, that sums it up. Time every moving onward and erasing all behind it…

  37. Woo Claudia you really dive into those shifts with everything you’ve got..langugae, formatting, scenarios – personal and international. I felt the ground shifting under my feet as I was reading… same SAME but the view from there.. so different.

    Bravo – enjoyed what you did and how you did it. Hope you’re keeping warm over there.. 🙂

  38. It’s lines such as these which makes me buy into a piece of writing:

    i’m not political– no, this
    affects me very personally… and I find myself fully engaged in your version of reality: polar bears and all.

    I am thinking of you in these days of blizzards, and hope that you are keeping warm.

  39. The best description I have read anywhere, let alone in poetry, of the seemingly typical reaction of office workers to the deep global recession’s affect of their individual lives. I really thought the metaphor of the tramride in unheated, freezing conditions, the falling on the street(?), the blooded fingers on cellphone keys worked extremely well here as outward signs of inner disbelief and dismay.

  40. Cloudy the West is ending. The symptoms of the illness of a Civilisation have been around for many years but are getting stronger and more frequent all the time. (Semi) solvent economies such as yours and ours will keep trying to bail, but it will be everyone for themselves at some point. The question is… can we avoid the fate of former civilisations and gently integrate into the the New Economic World Order that China and India are building? If not, we all go, not just the people at the top.

  41. in the rhythm of the day, the rattling
    of the tram, the opening and closing
    to a frozen world outside, eyes–

    getting heavy, want to give in, they all look
    same // Same // same but Different–

    To me this is the real world becoming dream-like. Or vice-versa.
    Lovely verse.

  42. I feel the futility of our world in this. I especially like the way you formatted this line – my veins keep PuLSinG–pULsinG. Very effective!

  43. This one to come back to and enjoy again and again!

    I had a friend that use to say this: “same but different” — paradoxically but very true for many comparisons. This poem is a wonderful expression of loss and disorientation. Brilliantly done!

  44. i love that your poetry unfolds stories before my eyes, like i’m visiting a cinema to watch the movie that’s new yet somehow very close to my heart. i can feel it. thank you for this experience 🙂

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