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Critical Analysis #1
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paste and scissors
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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paste and scissors |
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russelle Junior Member
since 1999-11-02
Posts 21Chicago, Il. USA |
My left hand holds fast my flailing jacket Like a child gripping his favorite blanket. Soon it begins to numb as it absorbs the frigid wind intended for my body. My right hand warms in my pocket, Waiting its turn to brave the elements. The red YMCA sign alerts me that my journey is almost through And I return my eyes to the pavement My eyes are torn from the pavement Not by wind, but by the rattle of coins in a plastic cup I squint against the wind to see Tattered gloves Torn pockets Missing buttons All serving to cover what looked like a man A quivering plea? A helpless gaze? A farfetched story? What awaited me at the light “Man, I gotta get some shelter Its freezing I got nothing, I just want to get warm To get on the ell a bus anything I need some warmth” Fumbling with the keys and mints in my pocket I shovel out Two quarters And a dime “Sorry man, its all I got” somehow slips from my chapping lips The light turns, and I switch hands As I plod on my eyes are once more ripped from the cracking sidewalk This time by thoughts Which rattle back and forth in my head like the coins in his plastic cup Who? who did I just pass? Surely he was once a man like me Once he too dreamt of more than simply warmth He once worked Slept in a home Spoke to a friend Talked on the phone Held a girls hand OH GOD, HOW DOES HE WARM HIS HANDS NOW? He never Asked Desired Dreamed Of this No, he dreamed of much much more He dreamed of money, joy and peace He dreamed of a family A wife A child Grandchildren? But now, now his dreams have shriveled up like newspaper in a burn barrel, They have cracked as cheap upholstery left to long in the glaring sun, They have shattered like an icicle falling from a thawing gutter, They have been swallowed up and forgotten Like the once enlivening contents of his plastic cup. Leaving him alone with his Tattered gloves Torn pockets Missing buttons Two quarters And a dime His life has become a dreamless nightmare From which he may never awake And in which he cannot sleep. Dependent upon chance passerbyers He is left with one burning desire: Warmth GOD SURELY THIS COLD DESTROYS MORE THEN JUST THE PAVEMENT BUT AT LEAST THE PAVEMENT, ITS POTHOLES, THEY WILL SOON BE FILLED BUT WHO WILL FILL THIS MAN, WHILE MAN HE STILL IS Soon I find myself standing outside my dorm room fumbling for my keys A cool draft blows upon my thawing feet. I open the door to a great breeze Papers fluttering, shades flapping against the window frame I run over to shut the window. Shutting out the frigid wind I crawl into bed and in that moment I have all that man desires, Warmth But I am not happy, I want more I deserve more, right? My desires continue to swirl like that frigid wind Uncontained. Throwing off the covers I hit my knees OH GOD, GOD THAT YOU WOULD SHUT THE EARTH’S WINDOW SHUT THE WINDOW AND GIVE THAT MAN WARMTH AND SHUT THE WINDOW OF MY MIND WHOSE DESIRES KNOW NO BOUNDARIES I pray, oh how I pray The plastic cup falls to the ground, The change lands deftly on the snow. Blood oozes from a forgotten head Contaminating the fresh snow Before freezing upon the curb And my head hits upon a soft pillow Basking in warmth Before dreaming of More friends More fun And how I deserve it. Rising once again I go to take my shower. And his broken body which will never rise again Is dragged off of the street To be put together with paste and scissors Out of old clippings No one would take the trouble to make an article |
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| © Copyright 1999 russelle - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
I must say that I think this is a very good poem, great images and many strong points. However, it does seem a little scattered. Wondering if you might want to clean it up a bit: stanza 1: very good stanza 2: very good stanza 3: don't think you need it stanza 4: works well with stanza 2 so I don't think you need 3. stanzas 5-10: Here I think you've moved away from showing a scene to talking, thinking about the scene. If you want to keep this stuff in there, why not create a dialogue? Drop all the dream stuff. stanza 11: back in form. Well done. stanza 12: seems too blunt, try to suggest this feeling more subtly. stanza 13-14:I got confused here. How does the character know this is going on if he's home? last stanza: you've got an interesting parallel thing going there but maybe you should have begun with that or at least made it more clear. Just some suggestions. Still enjoyed the poem very much. Thanks for the read, Brad |
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russelle Junior Member
since 1999-11-02
Posts 21Chicago, Il. USA |
thanks so much brad, thats the kind of stuff i was looking for, i will try and clean it up a little, apreciate the citique. russelle |
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haze Senior Member
since 1999-11-03
Posts 528Bethlehem, PA USA |
Brad covered all of the points (and then some) so I just need to tell you...I truly enjoyed the read, the images and messages. |
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