Guest Jess Posted May 21, 2002 Report Posted May 21, 2002 This is the second poem my friend gave to me. The Day to Come I've been resting here for hours But I'm trying not to sleep, And though I have done nothing My own mind has made me weak. In the midst of my own crisis It has seemed that I'm alone, And I try to get outside But my head just steers me home. Now, when I close my eyes I see my day repeat, An embolistic showroom Where the faceless roam and creep. A place where nothing's certain And my path is never set, Mysecurity and trust Are in a face I've never met. My only thoughts are searing white, And blocks the voices out. And though I'm sitting, quiet, I would like to rise and shout. Like a two-way mirrior I stay on the wall While others peer in I see nothing at all, And given the image Of anything less As always before I see nobody else. So here is where I stay With my eyelids drooping low, And the music flows right through me While my heartbeat starts to slow. As my body racks immobile My brain begins to stray, And my thoughts become much darker As I finish off my day. While I sleep My conscious swirls With images of fear. For while I sleep My soul can sense: The day to come is near.
Guest Xradion Posted May 21, 2002 Report Posted May 21, 2002 A very interesting portrait of isolation and death (at least, that's how I see it, though I could of course be wrong). I like the rhyme scheme that flows throughout almost all of the poem. I also appreciate the way that consciouness is represented by a room/house, which is consistent with an inherited symbolic system common in a lot of poetry. Tell your friend that he/she is quite talented. Xradion, The Horny Druid, Scholar of the Ancient Arts, Holder of the Eye of Odin. "The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream." -Wallace Stevens "When at home, do as the Homans do." –Xradion
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