So long
All the world has come and gone
And the rain is speaking spells
On the roof above the born
Trying on what never ever fits
And she sits all overthrown
Well defined by someone else
And the words are all too kind
So precise and quantified
Killing time to keep her occupied
Inside with all the tired toys
In the machinated comfort zone
The window opens silently
And the world inside is gone
So long
Its good though you may get rid of the so at the beginning and end
why get rid of the so? i think the "so" is needed
"the rain is speaking spells" That's excellent. Great use of language, here.
"On the roof above the barn " I'm guessing that's what you meant, anyway.
The poem might benefit from the use of punctuation. At the moment, it is sort of difficult to tell which clauses are modifying which. You can claim poetic license, of course, but clarity is generally a virtue in writing, even in poetry.
I don't know, that probably is supposed to say "born," not barn. The "o" is far away from the "a" on the keyboard! :)
The so long at the beginning and end is really impressive. It makes this a great accomplishment. If I had come up with that, I would have been so happy.
This is the sort of poem that got me interested in playing the guitar... because it deserves to be put to music. Poetry is music, so you really should enhance it with the use of instruments. That is an insight I had a few years ago. I especially think that the variations of "gone" "born" and "thrown" will sound cool as song lyrics. One more thing:
This makes profound observation of, and conveys and experience of... something. But what, exactly, is it? You have the ability to make this poem stand for a specific experience.
Thanks for the feedback! Perhaps it should be "borne "?
I was inspired to write this because of my writing about Paul Simon. So there you go.
It was intended to be about a person who has grown up pampered, encouraged and indulged by everyone around her (for "so long,") which results in feelings of hatred and discontent toward everyone and everything around her. The window could be interpreted either as a hopeful or morbid symbol of escape ("So long.")
I prefer hopeful!
Actually, on rereading it, I guess "born" could work. And, in fact, on rereading it again, I realize the poem works a lot better than I first gave it credit for. Still, I'm used to looking for spelling mistakes in the works people post here, and people tend to find what they are looking for, whether it is there or not, so you can't blame me too much. :-) I don't generally expect poems posted here (in general, not by you specifically) to be well-written.
Also, I stand by my statement that the lack of punctuation makes the poem needlessly confusing. "born" only works if you associate it with the "she" is who "trying things on", but that clause could apply to "world," "roof," "rain," or "born," and I'm pretty sure "rain" is the most obvious choice, from a purely syntactical viewpoint.
I am curious, though -- I like the poem now because, after three or four readings, I have come up with a reading that works, one that unites most of the elements of the poem to my own satisfaction. However, I am well aware that my reading might be very different from the one you intended the reader to come up with, especially as your description of the words as "precise and quantified" don't really seem to work with what I have in mind. The use of the present tense in "The window opens silently" is also a bit off. So, I have to know -- what did you intend the poem to be about?
Honestly, I simply liked the sounds. I wanted to vaguely contrast "organic" structures or systems ("world," "rain," "roof," "born," and "window" ) and "robotic" feelings and emotions (her sense of defeat comes from being "well defined," words toward her are "precise and quantified," she exists with "machinated comfort.")
In other words, I have no idea what it is about, or what the point is. What I like is that you have actually found a point in it!
If I were to edit it to make clear how I would read it, I would do so this way:
So long---
All the world has come and gone!
The rain is speaking spells
On the roof above the borne.
Trying on what never ever fits,
She sits all overthrown,
Well defined by someone else.
The words are all too kind,
So precise and quantified,
Killing time to keep her occupied
Inside with all the tired toys
In the machinated comfort zone.
The window opens silently---
And the world inside is gone!
---So long
Hey, good news for me. Sean's advice for you improved my own perspective on poetry a lot. I actually did not agree with what he said about giving it punctuation... I use punctuation in my own poetry, but it seems unnecessarily cumbersome.
However, seeing your poem with and without punctuation, I see that the punctuation fortifies it and makes it... full, or something. It makes it substantial, like it's wearing a suit. Poetry without punctuation... maybe ... it does not have the confidence to assert itself. I like it better this way.
