This Poem was Submitted By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2004-03-26 03:34:28 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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What Missing You Means

I don’t know what I miss most of all. I suppose I miss the missing of you. After all, We wiled the most of our time away Willfully missing one another. Yes, that's it. I miss a way of missing you Where missing you meant   That the most  of our time  was spent Wrapping our arms around nothing but hope, And yet everything was self-contained And we drained every dram of dream Out that vast space between The way things are, And the way things seem. It is only now,  without the dreams, That I really know What missing you means.

Copyright © March 2004 Rick Barnes

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-03-31 21:09:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.15152
The master of the last supper has risen and bestowed upon us another in the mini-series "What Happened Then Was..." Anxiously awaiting the next installment.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lynda G Smith On Date: 2004-03-28 19:18:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Well Rick, you've done it again. How much delight there is in surprise, in the unexpected, twisting the norm into a view that is fresh and enlightening. There is an ache to the initial sounds, the open vowels which gradually switch to a keening in all of the long eeee sounds. Clever man. I really liked the phrasing of line 9...making me think and breathe most before I accept the phrase of time, and concluding with the cost. You have opened up a new understanding, new possibilities, in a word,'missing' and isn't that what poetry is all about. Hope this goes into the next chap book. an old friend... Lynda
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2004-03-28 12:45:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.57143
Rick, I can feel the heartache pour out of you in the lines of this poem. Your loss runs deep, and makes me as the reader feel, that I've lost something too. What a strong emotional pull it has, quietly sad - brought me to tears. The tragedy of life is, we do loose people we love. We need to realize, that time with our loved ones is precious and to appreciate it all, and this piece reminds us of how fragile our time on Earth really is. Sincerely, DeniMari
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-03-27 14:56:02
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Rick: Double happiness! A critique from you, and finding your poem this Saturday morning. From my point of view, defining the 'indefinable' which seems at the core of everything is a hallmark of Rick Barnes poetry. You ask the questions I feel, and gently explore the nature of being and perception in ways that expand my mind. You challenge perceptions that we (each) are separate beings, inhabiting space in different locations. And one could just as easily read this poem as a personal expression - communication to someone whom the speaker misses. When you write "I" and "you" it is impossible for me not to sense this work as a subjective reaching out to an "I" which, for the moment, becomes 'me' the reader. It is as if the being called "Rick Barnes" - a part of the consciousness of the universe whom I identify with his words - reaches out to "Joanne Uppendahl" - her subjective awareness - a being internal to my 'self' as I understand it. It is no doubt meant for another 'self' or individual identity - but in the greater sense, seems to embrace the smaller selves, if you will, within the Greater Self which is the All. Oh, how I ramble when I step all over my own feet trying to tell you what I got out of your poem! I need to get out of my own way, somehow, to give you my response. I don’t know what I miss most of all. I suppose I miss the missing of you. After all, We wiled the most of our time away Willfully missing one another. Yes, that's it. "I suppose I miss the missing of you" doesn't imply to me that the speaker no longer misses the one to whom he addresses these words. He is in the very midst of being aware of the missing. It seems the relationship is constructed of this yearning. What, after all, do we truly, deeply yearn for? Reconciliation, reunification, 'oneness' to use a rather hackneyed but valuable term. WHY, oh why, are beings separate, for gods' sakes? The very quality of "missing" implies that there was once ANOTHER state of being - unity - cohesiveness - continual awareness of the All-That-Is in which we dwell, to borrow from many traditions. But to state, as you do that we "willfully" miss one another is to imply that we are doing this ourselves. We are agreeing to pretend that we are separate consciousnesses. We are luxuriating in the potential for reuniting that we know exists - we are cultivating the 'desire' for coming together as a whole being which separated consciousness seems to stir, like honey into tea. When you wrote "We wiled the most of our time away" I felt this - indescribable pull - an engulfing sort of nostalgia - realizing that we created 'time' too - that thing which wrenches each of us (all of humanity) from one another's arms. We participated in the delusion that time moves us away from one another and our own experiences. The line "Yes, that's it" felt like a clue (for the clueless) that we are swimming in metaphysical waters once more. Or is it an attempt of the speaker to forgive the one to whom these words are directed for absence? We are always, you show us here, attempting to define what and whom we crave (desire) to be present for our happiness. But we are forever 'getting it wrong.' Now why is that? asks a gentle voice. A voice that does not claim to have the 'answer' to this question. I miss a way of missing you Where missing you meant That the most of our time was spent Wrapping our arms around nothing but hope, And yet everything was self-contained And we drained every dram of dream Out (of) that vast space between The way things are, And the way things seem. Poetics are masterfully done - "drained every dram of dream" - for example. I can't list all of the ways in which language is telescoped or danced or painted to create the powerful sense of longing (or of an emptiness which implies that fulfillment is possible). "that vast space between" points to the very illusion of separation and the presence of no-space. I can get this idea with my head, but my emotions and body believe in the separation. And my head can't hold on long to this wisp of a notion that could change everything. But in order for that to happen, I'd have to agree to stop "missing" everything and everyone, feeling deprived of the love that has never been absent. I think you show us that we are 'in love' with the idea of hope - a premise that things will get better, warmer, closer, brighter. If things were already perfect, what would there be to hope for - to miss? What would we do with all of our sorrow? What would awareness be like, if we gave up the addiction to feeling put out about not seeing what is? It is only now, without the dreams, That I really know What missing you means. If the "dreams" are now gone - what remains? You don't answer that for us. Is it a kind of death, a kind of existential nonbeingness, a temporary exclusion from the comfort, the hope of greater things to come? Or is it a turning to the knowledge that 'we' are not separated and have never been and never can be? If the latter is the case, then why are we still miserable, I want to know! Is it a fault that we do not own, that we withhold the love that is possible to feel without accoutrements? Rick - your poems give me a reason for my heartache. Now that we've figured things out - how do we get to the next step? You are a master, of this I have no doubt whatsoever. Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sandra J Kelley On Date: 2004-03-27 08:18:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.36000
Rick this is a really fabulous poem. I love wrapping our arms around nothing but hope and the sence in this poem of being together but not being together and therefore willfully missing each other it is so true and so much a part of the human condition and yet now you do not even have that do not even have the dream and you realize that even those moments were precious. I really enjoyed this piece. Sandra
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-03-26 17:20:12
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.35294
Hi Rick, Without a doubt this is one of the most beautiful and wistful poems I have ever read. It hits me where I live as I have lost both my parents and my husband and I can honestly say I still miss them. I don't live in the past but 'they' are always with me and always will be. In my mind I liken this piece to the grief of missing a loved one... not necessarily one that has passed away but a lover that for some reason is no more in your life....'I suppose I miss the missing of you'...lovely and very poingant..'I miss away of missing you where missing you meant...the most of our time was spent wrapping our arms around nothing but hope' this is so beautiful with just enough mystry as this reader does not know why you had nothing but hope....perhaps a relationship that was not meant to be? 'we drained every dram of dream'...this is a fresh and amazing phrase...I think it is my favorite ....'it is only now without the dreams that I really know what missing you means.' I have read this piece several times and each time I can feel my own missing of loved ones inside your words. Kudos on this one Rick...it will go on my voting list. There might be some that think you used the word 'missing' too many times...but don't change a word of it as it just gives more fluid and subtance to the entire piece. Peace...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-03-26 13:21:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.79310
What a wistful, poignant piece, Rick with all those missg/missing sounds which contribute to audible shushing of the outside world. What Missing You Means I don’t know what I miss most of all. I suppose I miss the missing of you. [ah, yes] After all, We wiled the most of our time away Willfully missing one another. [great play on words with the l and s sounds] Yes, that's it. I miss a way of missing you [very dramatic] Where missing you meant That the most of our time was spent Wrapping our arms around nothing but hope, [wonderful personification of "hope" And yet everything was self-contained And we drained every dram of dream [i like the D alliteration] Out that vast space between The way things are, And the way things seem. [Oh. Rick this is so powerful it deserves at least a line break if not a final positon!] It is only now, without the dreams, That I really know What missing you means. fine job! Best Rach
This Poem was Critiqued By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-03-26 10:53:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.57692
Hi, Rick. Just came upon your nice poem here, and will put in my 2 cents worth. I can appreciate the emotion, which is described very well, and the technical correctness of the punctuation and rhyming. I do think that the reiteration of "missing" statements is a little too pronounced. I'd rather see more descriptions of what this "missing" resulted in, the effects it had by example like in the latter portion of this piece, which I think is effective and beautiful in its rhythmic quality. It is in the early stages that really slows the reader, until he really gets to the "meat" of the poem. In L4, I'd remove "the", giving it better cadence, like: "we wiled most of our time away" or even "we wiled away our time". Merely suggestions, so please do not take offense, but keep writing. My intent is to help, not discourage. Thanks for sharing your emotions with us here at TPL. wl
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2004-03-26 10:14:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.76923
Hi Rick, Love is what abounds in this piece. The missing of one's muse? This is for me! I have been missing my girl and it is almost a year that we didn't see each other. She is now very far from me and it is almost hopeless to see her since she is already in the convent! I dare forgetting her but I couldn't. I always miss her everyday and it has become my everyday wish to replenish my miss to her. Indeed, it means a lot missing her. The poem stands simple and its simplicity becomes the force to touch this reader's heart. "Wrapping our arms around nothing but hope," --- how sweet! I hope we mutually take this with my girl. I, does for her, in dreams! And we drained every dram of dream --- this line is fresh, the allit is good to hear. "It is only now, without the dreams, That I really know What missing you means." How I wish I had written this piece. I should print this and send this to her by courtesy of you! And indeed I know what missing your poem means! Thanks for this piece, it is absolutely dear to me! Jordan
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