Carol Ann Duffy - Text
I tend the mobile now
like an injured bird.
We text, text, text
our significant words.
I re-read your first,
your second, your third.
look for your small xx,
feeling absurd.
The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord.
I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred.
Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard.
We read this poem during last week's CW tutorial, and honestly as I read the poem I found my head inching closer and closer to the desk in an effort to conceal the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes. When our tutor asked the class for an opinion, asking what we felt about the poem, I busied myself by taking notes, by writing my thoughts on the poem and what Carol Ann Duffy could possibly have meant with what she wrote.
Here are my thoughts:
"I tend the mobile now
like an injured bird."
She's constantly checking her phone, "tending" to it, and probably likens it to an injured bird because she's treating it so gingerly. It's most likely that it's because she's half-afraid of what she might see flashing on her phone's screen.
"We text, text, text
our significant words."
This showed the importance of texting in the relationship that she had with her ex. It's likely that her ex broke up with her via text, too...
"I re-read your first,
your second, your third."
She's rereading the old text messages that her ex sent to her, especially the first few.
"look for your small xx,
feeling absurd."
xx means kisses, like how xoxo means hugs and kisses. She's looking for the xx or xoxo that her ex used to put in the texts sent to her.
"The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord."
I'm assuming that the codes mean some kind of phone programming whatchamacallit that has to do with sending texts. Maybe like a computer has some kind of software thingy that allows you to send emails or something. Or maybe codes could mean that her ex and her used to talk to each other in a special way that others wouldn't understand easily. Either way, reading the old text messages is hurting her in such a way that her heart is like a broken chord.
"I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred."
Picture her ex's hands doing what? Holding hands with her? Playing with her hair? Texting maybe? Whatever memory she's trying to recall, it's faded now. She's not getting it back.
"Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard."
This one hit me the hardest. Her emotions cannot be expressed through texting alone. What I think is that she's composing what she wants to say, typing a lot of messages to send to her ex, then deleting everything because she can't bring herself to do it. She'll never send the messages but keep them to herself instead, that's why they'll never be heard.
Yeah, I got that much from fourteen lines. But hey, maybe it's because it's something most of us can relate to. I know I can definitely relate. Our tutor then wanted us to try writing something similar to a tweet - she said we could write anything we wanted, but keep to a 140 character limit. For those of us who use Twitter often *points to self guiltily* that's easy as hell.
So this is what I wrote. It's titled Broken Promise, by the way.
I promised myself that I would be happy for you, as long as you were happy.
But when I saw your pictures, I couldn't help it.
I cried.
like an injured bird.
We text, text, text
our significant words.
I re-read your first,
your second, your third.
look for your small xx,
feeling absurd.
The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord.
I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred.
Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard.
We read this poem during last week's CW tutorial, and honestly as I read the poem I found my head inching closer and closer to the desk in an effort to conceal the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes. When our tutor asked the class for an opinion, asking what we felt about the poem, I busied myself by taking notes, by writing my thoughts on the poem and what Carol Ann Duffy could possibly have meant with what she wrote.
Here are my thoughts:
"I tend the mobile now
like an injured bird."
She's constantly checking her phone, "tending" to it, and probably likens it to an injured bird because she's treating it so gingerly. It's most likely that it's because she's half-afraid of what she might see flashing on her phone's screen.
"We text, text, text
our significant words."
This showed the importance of texting in the relationship that she had with her ex. It's likely that her ex broke up with her via text, too...
"I re-read your first,
your second, your third."
She's rereading the old text messages that her ex sent to her, especially the first few.
"look for your small xx,
feeling absurd."
xx means kisses, like how xoxo means hugs and kisses. She's looking for the xx or xoxo that her ex used to put in the texts sent to her.
"The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord."
I'm assuming that the codes mean some kind of phone programming whatchamacallit that has to do with sending texts. Maybe like a computer has some kind of software thingy that allows you to send emails or something. Or maybe codes could mean that her ex and her used to talk to each other in a special way that others wouldn't understand easily. Either way, reading the old text messages is hurting her in such a way that her heart is like a broken chord.
"I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred."
Picture her ex's hands doing what? Holding hands with her? Playing with her hair? Texting maybe? Whatever memory she's trying to recall, it's faded now. She's not getting it back.
"Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard."
This one hit me the hardest. Her emotions cannot be expressed through texting alone. What I think is that she's composing what she wants to say, typing a lot of messages to send to her ex, then deleting everything because she can't bring herself to do it. She'll never send the messages but keep them to herself instead, that's why they'll never be heard.
Yeah, I got that much from fourteen lines. But hey, maybe it's because it's something most of us can relate to. I know I can definitely relate. Our tutor then wanted us to try writing something similar to a tweet - she said we could write anything we wanted, but keep to a 140 character limit. For those of us who use Twitter often *points to self guiltily* that's easy as hell.
So this is what I wrote. It's titled Broken Promise, by the way.
I promised myself that I would be happy for you, as long as you were happy.
But when I saw your pictures, I couldn't help it.
I cried.
Comments
Post a Comment