The Jeremy Files, Chapter 3: Guess What I Learned Today, Mommy
poetry, love, sad, friendship
Published on:
June 11, 10:10pmWord Count:
231Work Description
This is a series of poems I wrote while being depressed. Just so you know, an ex-friend of mine is named Jeremy and he caused my depression...
Chapter Description
This is sort of written in the point of view of a preschooler. I don't know...that's just how I came up with it.
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Guess what I learned today, mommy
I learned that no one cares about me
I learned not to hope
And I learned not to cry
I learned not to feel happy
And I learned how to die
I learned what real life is like
And I learned how my friends are all fake
I learned how my life is a lie
And I learned not to wake
Oh, mommy, why look so sad?
I haven’t even told you the bad
I learned that love does not exist
And I learned to be suicidal
I learned how to use a razor
And I learned how to end it all
I learned that it’s me you hate
And I learned how you want to get rid of me
I learned that I was never wanted
And I learned I never will be
Guess what mommy, there's still more
Don’t give me that look; you've heard this before
I learned friends aren't real
They’re only there to destroy you
And I learned never to share what I feel
Because that gives them even more to chew
I learned not to cry when I’m sad
Because no one really cares
And I learned I want to die
Because of all my despair
That’s what I learned today mommy, how about you?
What’d you learn today mommy, anything new?
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A bitter and violent piece, from the middle stages of growing up. The narrator is transfixed not by what is, but by what is not. A world has changed.
Thematically, the poem dwells on the negation of meaning and of life. Arguably, the narrator is in a state of denying every beneficial concept that had been learned in childhood, but a look at the opening and closing denies this:
Guess what I learned today, mommy
I learned that no one cares about me...
That’s what I learned today mommy, how about you?
What’d you learn today mommy, anything new?
So: there is something more to this than meets the eye, even if it is an extraordinarily bitter piece given the degree of denial. The hurt and vituperative narrator still looks toward the parent figure, even if the text is bitter, there is still the longing for some kind of communication, however cruelly laden.
I'm not sure if the poem seeks to explore insight beyond what it is: a lament to the mother. It strikes hard and fast upon the on the breaking of the trusts of childhood, with the irony that until the narrator discovers self-standing,
Moodwise, the aggression in this piece is directed towards both inwards and outwards. I do wonder whether it might be strained a bit by going on as much as it does, but that might be an expression of the narrator's focus.
The imagery is of hate, betrayal and violence. On a surface level these are 'powerful' within themselves, however they are powerful in the same way that a rock is powerful. You note its power and move around it.
Greater force could be acquired by drawing in the reader with more subtle imagery and then developing contrasts between the images.
However, the overall setting -- the dialogue/conflict with the mother -- is effective. It's such a common kind of encounter that the basic violence of the images may be enough to make the poem workable. Certainly, without the open and closing structure, the poem would be much weaker.
Good poem. A couple of ideas... It sounds like you are mad at or depressed by your mom. If Jeremy is the one who caused the pain, why not use his name in place of mommy. Kids actually talk to their friends more frankly than they do their parents. In your next to the last stanza:
I learned not to cry when I’m sad
Because no one really cares
And I learned I want to die
Because of all my despair
the rhyming kind of misses a beat. By using "all my despair", you opened it up to pluralization, but didn't use it. I would add the s.
I am just me and these are only my suggestions. I think this is a good piece of writing. I hope I get to read more of your work.