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Blossom
New Member

since 2006-05-12

Posts 8
Georgia, USA

0 posted 2006-05-28 11:29 AM

A rusty iron bell
nailed to the porch wall
tolls in a hot breeze.
She loves the sun so
I sit very still
while she sleeps in my lap.
I am so still
that a lizard runs across my shoe
and neither it nor I care.
I can see that rabbit
eating my tomato plants.
and a tortoise, also,
half buried in the pine straw
Escaping the heat.

This sultry day drags on and on
But I don’t want it to end
Because she will pass into the darkness
Before the world does.

Skippyrick
Member

since 2006-05-16

Posts 150
Rohnert Park

1 posted 2006-05-28 12:14 PM

Hi:

I am sorry for your lost. it is sad when pets die. We had a cat die in january of this year. She was 17. We have another that is still kicking he will be 14 in two week. They do become a part of you. In your poem I realy dont get any of that emoition. Did you read My Little Princess in one of those general formans?
\
Rick

Blossom
New Member

since 2006-05-12

Posts 8
Georgia, USA

2 posted 2006-05-28 01:32 PM

It is the lack of emotion and the overpowering presence of the day that I am trying to convey.

ChristianSpeaks
Member

since 2006-05-18

Posts 396
Iowa, USA

3 posted 2006-05-28 04:19 PM

Yes I get what you are trying to say. It seems as though you are describing that in spite of all your efforts your only recourse is to sit and watch what is about to happen. Sucks.

An artist's job is not to commentate the truth.
An artist's job is to create it.
-Dane Barner

YeshuJah
Member

since 2002-08-20

Posts 65
FL USA

4 posted 2006-05-30 04:26 PM

I have to say that you did, IMO, portray the absence of emotion here while presenting a glimpse of the idyllic in your descriptions - but it all seemed so, dare I say the word? 'pointless'

You didn't write it for emotional effect - you've said as much; nor was it written primarily to paint us a picture of the particular day - Is there anything else the reader can garner from this?

Suggestion? I'd like to know why the narrator feels no emotion -
I just think it would make the poem more balanced.

YeshuJah*)

Archea
Member

since 2006-05-13

Posts 65
United States

5 posted 2006-06-01 12:32 PM

could it be that your conveying emotions without really saying them? "a rusty iron bell, nailed to the porch wall" that could be a symbol of something inside you. all the words came from the time you were the sad, therfore, why couldent that, or other symbols in the poem, really convey a deeper emotion that we dont see at first?

Sasasha
New Member

since 2006-06-02

Posts 5
Sheffield, England

6 posted 2006-06-02 12:45 PM

I don't think you can really say that there is no emotion conveyed - just not talked about. There's obvious care and love there - 'she likes the sun / so I sit very still' (sorry for misquotes but I don't have the poem here with me) and the fact that she sits so still all day, not able to move gets across the complete helplessness. The focus on the stillness really creates an air of poignancy. Loss isn't always something that makes us weep and cry etc, sometimes it is just a feeling of inability. I like this poem alot.

Blossom
New Member

since 2006-05-12

Posts 8
Georgia, USA

7 posted 2006-06-02 10:18 PM

Thanks for your comments - I really mispoke when I said it was the lack of emotion I was trying to convey.

It was the lack of visible emotion - you are right; all the turmoil was going on underneath but to the onlooker I was just petting my cat.

Thanks for explaining it better than I could!

Beau de L'air
Member

since 2006-08-03

Posts 105
Middlesex, England

8 posted 2006-08-03 04:37 PM

Well Blossom, I loved it! I had a cat that I had to take to the vets. I rescued it as a wee kitten and it was a good friend to me for seventeen years. I held it in my arms as the light went out of its eyes in such a terrible short space of time. Now, as for your lovely poem; I don't know how old you are or if you have children, but one of the awful things about having a child is that you bring it into the mortal world and you know you've sentenced your own sweet child to death. Eventually. Still, look on the bright side; it is so inconceivably improbable to be born a sentient being in the inconceivable vastness of space and time, that what the hell, you made love and that's that. I should like you to read my poem Somebody's Child when the moderators are through with it! I don't know what's happened to it!

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