There is this little drain,
- a drain,
With small holes
- black dots
- - in concentric circles.
Appeared one night,
- one night with
- - little stars
White points in stellar
- patterns,
In the middle of the floor
- - in my bedroom
Where I slept
- when sleep was still
- - a possibility.
When possibility was crammed
- in every moment
- - every waking moment/movement
Before the drain
- with small holes
Appeared on the night
- with white points
- - on the floor
- - - in my bedroom.
Sometime after
- the first trickle,
- - crimson tendrils
- - - crept toward the drain.
Then azure droplets
- maroon, purple, and gold
- - rivulets joined the first
- - - crimson trickle
- - - -in passage
- - toward the drain
- - with black dots
- - - on the floor
- - - of the room
Where possibility no longer slept
- but oozed from the walls
- - from the bed
- - from the body
- - - in the room
- - and seeped down the
- - drain with small
- black holes.
In the room where the night
- was without points
- - without patterns
But was forever
- black.
Comments?
Sorry, you cannot respond to an archived poemReviews
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good
i think your creativity and wording is very good however it feels like the words used are too big for the poem. i think the message isnt too clear and if you could integrate more of a message into this piece it could be a classic! the foundation is definitly there though...keep going!. Rewarded 4
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Thank you so much for your comments. I will have a look at it in light of what you have said. There is no message however. I had just lost a child and was informed that i could never have another. Please read it again with that in mind.
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Two in one in one poem
I see two though process going on in this poor. Which get away from the deeper message going on. Both thoughts are very good. It is your poems it could be a new kind of poem. who say a good poem has too follow the rules all the time.
great job keep up the awesome work. Rewarded 4
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<
Please don't become in harmony with the rest of us peons. You seem to be having such a great time. You do and say freely what the rest of us tuck away in the back of drawers. I figure when I am dead my relatives can gasp in horror and shock when they find out, but I'll be nothing but bone bits and ashes. Just be a little careful, Uncle Noodle. I sense a terror around you. -
This is a great extended image, I just love the idea of all the colour draining into the centre of the room.
Language wise, I especially like the anaphora and internal parallels (such as lines 3+4, or 7+8).
I like the form as well, short lines with constant anphora gives the nice flowing (or perhaps more appropriately here, "draining") feel to the poem.
Only crits:
- What's with your capitalisations? They're just bizarre.
- I think you need to develop the end a bit to explain what you're getting at, just another line or a few more key coloured words to point the reader at your meaning, as currently it's just a nice image with little else.. Rewarded 4
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Thank so much for insightful comments.
The capitalization has to do with free verse and the fact that this site will not allow me to indent longer lines that are split onto different lines for the purpose of rhythm. So these lines are not capitalized. I am almost ready to find another poetry site because of it. The poem is about depression not colors. That is why it ends as it does.
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superb
that was an impeccable imagery , you have mersmerised the readers through your artistery ,i especially liked the part
In the room where the night
was without points
without patterns
But was forever
black.
An essential truth of life ,yet depicted so artfully
it is strong,mind blowing and really hits you hard
well done keep it going
. Rewarded 4
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Thank you
You seem to be the only one who got what I was trying to do with this poem. I was beginning to think that perhaps I had said nothing.
E.
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Interesting
Was very interesting and creative. They style and form was very different but creative. I would suggest you continue writing poetry.. Rewarded 4
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this one is beautiful...full of imagination ...full of truth...i liked the whole poem but line 46 to 50 is just amazing...the use of metaphor is really good.
i didn't liked it...just loved it.
keep delighting us.
jo
P.S: black is not as bad as people say.it gives you the inspiration to seek it's counterpart....white....light.. Rewarded 4
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Great job
This is a fine piece of poetry and a fantastic read.The whole piece begs you to continue reading.The use of language has been wonderfully done.
Congrats
Jay. Rewarded 4
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Thank you for your comment, Jay. You know how some poems you sit down and the whole piece just flows out of your pencil. This was like that. I was so sad and I needed desperately to somehow give my sadness a voice.
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Neat rhythem...
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Introsuction. Sad Beauty in despair.
Ah, where to begin? The melancholy, distraught yet restrained. Subtle horror lurks between the lines. The drain threatens with centifugal malevolence to suck everything thru its nebulous, perforated maw. An ensuing descent to...where? Overlayin pin points of starlight with dark holes of despair was a harrowing image. your repetions are wonderfully placed and mutate into thoughts deeper with dread. Line 38 cements earlier points with excellent precision.One of the saddest pieces of heartrending subdued eloquence I`ve read.. Rewarded 4
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Wonderful Imagery
Can't really add to the many (well deserved) compliments paid below. Wondered had it been your intention to liken the stars to 'negatives' of the small black plugholes in the sky through which the Universe might drain away? Whatever - great write !. Rewarded 4
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Thank you. The answer to your question about the stars and the black holes is yes. that is exactly what i intended. I have been wondering if anyone would realize that. Do you paint or do art? I think it takes someone who visualizes like an artist to see that.
eosmia -
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Oooooooooo............
...that makes me feel so smug! LOL ! It's a really wonderful idea - the sort I'd love to come up with myself. I cant paint worth a damn but I always loved trying . I have better ideas than execution - this was a great idea ! And so well executed . Really you could only do it in words. That's why we love them.Thanks for letting me know. I'm off to boast about to someone !
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I love the imagery
I got a distinct picture in my head while reading this poem. The writing style was a bit different, though. It was very "jerky" with the short lines. But still, that didn't seem to negatively affect the poem or my reading experience. I don't really know what the point of this poem is . . . is it a metaphor? Either way, I like it. A poem without a point can still be a wonderful poem if it creates fantastic imagery in your mind, and this is what this poem did. Good work.. Rewarded 4
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The words are beautiful. Imagery is creates a concreteness to a poem, but the choice of imagery is dependent of the skill of the poet. I read it more than once, for meaning most often cannot be taken simply by first reading.
I can point out a lot of lines that i liked, but as i read it again, this are my insights:
it is sad, that we are left with nothing. At times, we find ourselves frozen in time and lost in the nothingness of things. The feeling that all life has been sucked from us, that there seems to be no destination. Like all life has moved away (seemingly by choice) and has left us with nothing.
Your poem has painted a reality that we must dread to face, it comes in varying forms. However, i wish we are able to get out of its.
thank you for painting a poem that shares the sentinments of humanity in its quest to move on with life.
Where possibility no longer slept
39- but oozed from the walls
40- - from the bed
41- - from the body
42- - - in the room
43- - and seeped down the
44- black holes.
- drain with small
45-
this particular lines spelt out a sadness...to lose our possibility is a nightmare, for life is possibility.
. Rewarded 4
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Chills
Reading this gave me chills. The images are so realistic. The repitition realy sinks it into my heart. I can imagine laying in that room being pulled down to that drain.. Rewarded 4
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Marvelous.
Jan, my ears see this as a masterful personal yet cosmic kaleidoscope of lonely and painful and dizzying fear. It's one of those rare poems in which scientific purposes of the five senses are hallucinatedly intermixed as in the great ancient feminine myths of loss: eyes hear, ears see, and so on.
And it has the organized shape of a true concrete poem: the whole thing appearing as cycling and circling, as draining liquids (and hopes) will. Very astute format, very nice!!
I like the way (I often look for this in poems) line 1 and line 49-50 -- first and last lines -- create a frame for the poem: "There is this little drain...forever black." Great writing. It means to me at least that you knew what you were doing, despite your sorrowing losses.
Favorite lines:
9-10: white points in stellar patterns
31-32: rivulets joined the first crimson trickle
38: where pooibility no longer slept.........
Fine stuff!
Would love for you to take a look at "The Cradle." An experiment in minimalism. Thanks. And sincere thanks for "Black Holes."
Lenny. Rewarded 1
Solicor
May 20, 2006