Oh my sweet Edward, K. Stew might finally be learning to laugh at herself. In an interview with Marie Claire, Kristen Stewart shared her poetry. She channeled the Muses and read a poem she'd written called "My Heart is a Wiffle Ball/Freedom Pole." Although this may seem like another angsty post-Pattinson move, Kristen made a little joke before she read it. That's right, Bella, queen of bored expressions and sighs, may have just made a move toward self-deprecating humor. After she read the poem, she said to Marie Claire,
I like being able to hit on something, like, 'There it is.' I don't want to sound so fucking utterly pretentious … but after I write something, I go, 'Holy fuck, that's crazy.' It's the same thing with acting: If I do a good scene, I'm always like, 'Whoa, that's really dope.'
Now, Kristen may have meant this seriously... but it seems like she's poking a little fun at the "serious" nature of her acting and her personal drama. Instead of re-hashing the past, though, let's all join Kristen in poking a little fun. So, without further ado, I break down Kristen's verse and add Twilight-inspired musings on what it could all possible mean.
I reared digital moonlight
Well, that started off well. It's almost as if a certain successful chain of movies was obsessed with digitally-enhanced moonlight. Hint: said movie rhymes with skylight.
You read its clock, scrawled neon across that black Kismetly … ubiquitously crest fallen Thrown down to strafe your foothills …I'll suck the bones pretty.
I must say, it's a bold poetic choice to include two sets of ellipses in the first stanza of a poem. So, perhaps we should fill them in. Between "kismetly" and "ubiquitously," there should be at least one "seriously," and perhaps a classic Forks-style sigh...
And, obviously, after "foothills," we need something that will conjure images of sucking on bones. Something like a vampire sucking on a bony neck, perhaps? In this stanza, we haven't strayed too far from blood-sucking romance... but hopefully we can move past it soon.
Your nature perforated the abrasive organ pumps Spray painted everything known to man, Stream rushed through and all out into Something Whilst the crackling stare down sun snuck Through our windows boarded up He hit your flint face and it sparked.
Now we've really expanded into the punk themes that dominate Kristen's wardrobe off-screen. I actually like the idea of "abrasive organ pumps" in crazy spray-painted colors as a theme of some sort of Stewart-for-Burberry punk fashion show. But, after a good bit of punking and some pretty convincing assonance, those damn vampires have to show up again, in the last line of the stanza, no less. Only the faces of the mystically undead can "spark," which is why traditional vampires could never go out in the sun. But, in the Twi-version, they "sparkle." So, in case you missed an "l" there, K. Stew, we got you covered.
And I bellowed and you parked We reached Marfa. One honest day up on this freedom pole Devils not done digging He's speaking in tongues all along the pan handle And this pining erosion is getting dust in My eyes
In case you don't know your Texan geography as well as Kristen, Marfa is a small town in west Texas. So, at the very least, this poem does not involve the now-infamous Pacific Northwest, and thematically proves that it was written on a road trip Kristen took through Texas. Honestly, this stanza suddenly gets much angrier, but when we read the enjambment of "My eyes," we can't help thinking of all those bored looks she gave Edward — erm, I mean Robert.
And I'm drunk on your morselsAnd so I look down the line Your every twitch hand drum salute Salutes mine …
Once more, we have some ellipses to deal with. Since we're talking about "salutes" here, perhaps the final words of the poem refer to the New K. Stew, That Actress in Fatigues in a Sundance Movie. In case you haven't heard, Kristen starred in Camp X-Ray , which did very well at Sundance and will soon be distributed widely by IFC Films. It's great news, considering she probably doesn't have many offers for a book of poems at the moment.
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