Amazingly Bad Poetry Journal Review - Untitled (Ophelia)
Untitled
by Brett
Sometimes I dream, Ophelia, that when we dance
you move towards me,
press yourself against me.
Ophelia, I see the day of bliss;
Our bodies whip around leafless trees,
branches flow in the wind, dying
to the song of awakening,
touching my open loneliness.
Ophelia, I thank you for this place,
where the present breeze fills the plans,
expanding into the life of love.
And in this garden, dispersing of concerns
changes grief to the laughter of innocence.
Our Eden grows with each affection.
This poem is presumably about a person named Ophelia, and not the Ophelia. You must be completely superstition-less to name a child Ophelia. What happens when she gets old enough to date? If I was a dad to a teenage Ophelia, I’d be up all night worrying that soon I’m going to be stabbed in a case of mistaken identity and subsequently my daughter will go insane and commit suicide. Also sometime before my stabbing, my wife will pass away or otherwise be inconsequential to the plot. I was going to suggest that this Ophelia could be a nickname or a pseudonym, but that’s even worse. “Here, sweetie, carry these wildflowers. Don’t ask me why. If you ask me why, you ruin it for me.” Also, once a week, he has to exhibit bizarre behavior around her and sometimes he has to scream at her that she should become a nun.
I think this is yet another unrequited love situation, but I’m not entirely sure. In the first lines, Brett doesn’t say that he dreams that they’re dancing. He says that he dreams of their dancing like Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in 1987. Dirtily. Dig. In Brett’s subconscious according to how the line is written, he wants Ophelia to do some good old-fashioned boner-inducing grinding. I can’t tell you how happy I am that a high school student might find this review when he/she is trying to find a paper on Hamlet to plagiarize. I’m thinking that Brett meant to write that he dreams that they dance and they’ve never actually danced in real life. Otherwise, he’s suggesting that Ophelia is about as sexy as a tapir.
I think Brett must have saddled his lady love with this poorly chosen fake name so that there’s no danger of her finding it if she ever chooses to Google random classmates or co-workers. Yeah, it’s a long shot, but you never know. You want to dodge that bullet before the gun is fired.
The fact that he imagines their dancing through a barren winter forest can mean nothing good at all. If Brett lived in Vienna in 1906, Siggy’s eyes would turn into dollar signs when he heard about this. Apparently Brett intends this as a rebirth metaphor. Their dance turns the lifeless "plans" [sic] (oh dear me) into an Eden. Because nothing bad has ever happened in Eden. I understand that it’s the tree branches (and not Ophelia) that are touching Brett’s ... open loneliness..., but that doesn’t make the line any less horrifying.
Bad Poetry Grade [F = your standard bad poem; A+ = worst poem imaginable]: B-
by Brett
Sometimes I dream, Ophelia, that when we dance
you move towards me,
press yourself against me.
Ophelia, I see the day of bliss;
Our bodies whip around leafless trees,
branches flow in the wind, dying
to the song of awakening,
touching my open loneliness.
Ophelia, I thank you for this place,
where the present breeze fills the plans,
expanding into the life of love.
And in this garden, dispersing of concerns
changes grief to the laughter of innocence.
Our Eden grows with each affection.
This poem is presumably about a person named Ophelia, and not the Ophelia. You must be completely superstition-less to name a child Ophelia. What happens when she gets old enough to date? If I was a dad to a teenage Ophelia, I’d be up all night worrying that soon I’m going to be stabbed in a case of mistaken identity and subsequently my daughter will go insane and commit suicide. Also sometime before my stabbing, my wife will pass away or otherwise be inconsequential to the plot. I was going to suggest that this Ophelia could be a nickname or a pseudonym, but that’s even worse. “Here, sweetie, carry these wildflowers. Don’t ask me why. If you ask me why, you ruin it for me.” Also, once a week, he has to exhibit bizarre behavior around her and sometimes he has to scream at her that she should become a nun.
I think this is yet another unrequited love situation, but I’m not entirely sure. In the first lines, Brett doesn’t say that he dreams that they’re dancing. He says that he dreams of their dancing like Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in 1987. Dirtily. Dig. In Brett’s subconscious according to how the line is written, he wants Ophelia to do some good old-fashioned boner-inducing grinding. I can’t tell you how happy I am that a high school student might find this review when he/she is trying to find a paper on Hamlet to plagiarize. I’m thinking that Brett meant to write that he dreams that they dance and they’ve never actually danced in real life. Otherwise, he’s suggesting that Ophelia is about as sexy as a tapir.
I think Brett must have saddled his lady love with this poorly chosen fake name so that there’s no danger of her finding it if she ever chooses to Google random classmates or co-workers. Yeah, it’s a long shot, but you never know. You want to dodge that bullet before the gun is fired.
The fact that he imagines their dancing through a barren winter forest can mean nothing good at all. If Brett lived in Vienna in 1906, Siggy’s eyes would turn into dollar signs when he heard about this. Apparently Brett intends this as a rebirth metaphor. Their dance turns the lifeless "plans" [sic] (oh dear me) into an Eden. Because nothing bad has ever happened in Eden. I understand that it’s the tree branches (and not Ophelia) that are touching Brett’s ... open loneliness..., but that doesn’t make the line any less horrifying.
Bad Poetry Grade [F = your standard bad poem; A+ = worst poem imaginable]: B-