# ROOM



## SilverMoon (May 8, 2019)

EDIT 3

That room
no larger than a tall, fat man’s shadow
where there was no fresh air just
the reek of cheap perfume…

“Evening in Paris” samples 
set on the dresser, 
aligned
like her sooty piano keys, 
neglected teeth and rosary beads.

Those bottles and nothing more
all lined up on that wooden bureau.

Nothing left in that room except for a sunken bed
which I have no recollection of sleeping or dreaming in.
And a window, small and square, where ever and a day knocked.

I stared out that learnt window
where tree tops must have joined that sky which became 
an ashy forever, not one white fluff to shift direction from.

Stiff, I must have been, like a plastic doll that could not blink
looking out at that farness, that leaden sky, that ceaseless calendar.

I have no idea why Mumsy locked me in that room
the day after my mother died.

EDIT 2

That room
no larger than a tall, fat man’s shadow
where there was no fresh air but just _
the reek of cheap perfume…

“Evening in Paris” _samples 
set on the dresser, 
aligned
like her sooty piano keys, 
neglected teeth and rosary beads.Those bottles and nothing more perhaps 
all lined up on that wooden bureau.

Nothing left in that room except for a sunken bed 
the only thing left in that room which I have no 
recollection of sleeping or dreaming in.
And a window, small and square, where ever and a day knocked. 

I stared out that learnt window
where tree tops must have joined that sky which became 
an ashy forever, with not one white fluff to shift direction from.

Stiff, I must have been, like a plastic doll that could not blink
looking out at that farness, that leaden sky, that ceaseless calendar. 

I have no idea why Mumsy locked me in that room
the day after my mother died.


ORIGINAL

That room
no larger than a tall, fat man’s shadow
where there was no fresh air but just
the reek of cheap perfume.

So many cobalt blue “Evening in Paris” samples,
(and I had no idea why she had so many of them)
were all lined up in a row on the bureau like her
 dusty piano keys, like her neglected teeth or like the peas
 I wouldn’t eat, cleverly placed in front of my plate back home.

Nothing left in that room except for a sunken bed
which I have no recollection of sleeping or dreaming in.
And a window, small and square; a gateway to time’s lapse. 

All that morning and day I stared out that learnt window
 where tree tops must have joined that sky which became 
an ashy forever, with not one white fluff to portray it as being real.

I must have been stiff like a plastic doll that could not blink
looking out at that farness, that leaden sky which had 
no wind, ending.

I have no idea why Mumsy locked me in that room
the day after my mother died.


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## Bard_Daniel (May 8, 2019)

Woah! The imagery and sensations that are described here, put together, craft the narrative and poetic structure of this piece- or so I found. The jarring of the "fat man's shadow", "cheap perfume", "neglected teeth", "sunken bed", "learnt window" and, my favorite, "ashy forever" all serve to make this poem a narrative that speaks to the nature of the fine poet (you) and the reader (me) as you take me there with the profound, yet masterfully composed, lines that you've assembled here. Your final stanza makes the reader gleam the nature of the piece and puts things in perspective.

Really liked, SilverMoon. Great work!


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## SilverMoon (May 8, 2019)

Daniel, thank you for reading and pointing to the imagery which came to me in an entirely different way than usual. This was my first attempt employing "automatic writing" where you rely on the subconscious mind, below the level of awareness to do the work. 

While typing I kept my eyes closed (not necessary to automatic writing but my choice) and could actually feel the images tumbling out.  A rather strange and exhausting process because I had to let go and not think. Odd how this can be so tiring (I will have to be more of a student of this genre).

Through this process and given the subject matter - to be really there" was something not otherwise experienced in my Confessional verse. 

Afterwards, I arranged the poem in stanzas in the chronological order that the words came to me. 

Again, thank you - and "sensations" is the key word. Laurie


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## midnightpoet (May 9, 2019)

Wow,  Great imagery.  This poem seems deeply personal (and I don't like to make assumptions) and as such I usually hate to critique but even so I don't see anything I would change.

Tony


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## TL Murphy (May 9, 2019)

Silver, I’d say the poem ends with the penultimate stanza.  (I think you mean the last 4 words to read: “no wind, no ending).  The last two lines of the poem are telling - which attempt explain everything that came before.  If you feel the need to supply the reader with this information then weave it into the poem earlier.  You’ve already dropped a hint in the title. You might put something in the poem about hearing things through the door.  That would probably be enough.  We don’t really need to know who died or who locked the subject in the room. That’s not important to the feeling in the poem.

I also suggest cutting some of the other telling lines in the poem, like the last line of S2 which pulls the reader out of the context and doesn’t add anything to the scene. Also cut “a gateway to time’s lapse” and “to portray it as being real”.  Interesting that these lines all fall at the end of a stanza (or poem) which says something about the poet’s process... a need to explain the metaphor after it has been presented. You don’t need to do that.  Let the images speak for themselves. Let the reader decide what they mean.


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## SilverMoon (May 9, 2019)

midnightpoet said:


> Wow,  Great imagery.  This poem seems deeply personal (and I don't like to make assumptions) and as such I usually hate to critique but even so I don't see anything I would change.
> 
> Tony


 Tony, very pleased that you liked the images. That deep part of self had need to bring the reader into my experience through them.  So, yes. This is a very personal poem yet still a poem. Any of your thoughts, anytime. Thank you for finding my poem engaging. It was not easy to write. Laurie



TL Murphy said:


> Silver, I’d say the poem ends with the penultimate stanza.  (I think you mean the last 4 words to read: “no wind, no ending).  The last two lines of the poem are telling - which attempt explain everything that came before.  If you feel the need to supply the reader with this information then weave it into the poem earlier.  You’ve already dropped a hint in the title. You might put something in the poem about hearing things through the door.  That would probably be enough.  We don’t really need to know who died or who locked the subject in the room. That’s not important to the feeling in the poem.
> 
> I also suggest cutting some of the other telling lines in the poem, like the last line of S2 which pulls the reader out of the context and doesn’t add anything to the scene. Also cut “a gateway to time’s lapse” and “to portray it as being real”.  Interesting that these lines all fall at the end of a stanza (or poem) which says something about the poet’s process... a need to explain the metaphor after it has been presented. You don’t need to do that.  Let the images speak for themselves. Let the reader decide what they mean.


 Hi, Tim. Thank you for time, thought spent. And for your suggestions.

 First, I must give myself a crit. I was ambivalent about the naming of title. After your input, I can see that it's clearly a "tell" and will be tending to this especially as I believe it takes away from the prevalence of the last two lines you have in question. Here, the reader was given something that was not to be anticipated. A valid poetic technique. Something so sudden in respect to the poem's unhurried pace so as to cause the reader to think "OK, That's why". Though this didn't occur in your instance, this is what makes poetry so gripping. How words will cause readers to gravitate inward then come up for air with thier own predilections. Then the hopeful result: that the writer turn inward in examination.

As I told Tony, this is a very personal poem. Speaking in the third person: the child is in a state of shock, nearly catatonic (brain deadened), imobilized in front of that window. If there were noises outside the door, she would not have heard them. Another reason why the title needs to be changed is that it steals the child's time. She had discovered her mother dead (this would be another poem) the evening prior.

I will be taking a good look at S2.  Thanks again, Laurie


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## Thomas Norman (May 10, 2019)

SilverMoon said:


> EDIT
> 
> *ROOM *(pending for change in title bar) _Yes, the original gave too much away. How about That Room?_
> 
> ...



Firstly Laurie I think the revision is a big improvement. I realise the original was an inspirational write and while there's nothing wrong with that in itself it doesn't tend to make for good poetry. The immediacy and raw feel are palpable and have all the makings of something great. You have brought this about in your revision. The original was just too 'telling'. I hope my thoughts are of some help. A deeply rooted poem of insight and originality. Very well done. ... T.


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## SilverMoon (May 10, 2019)

Thanks, Thomas! Some great suggestions and so glad you liked the S2 re-write. Here's a couple of your catches. You are so right but will explain why I might keep them.





> no larger than a tall, fat man’s shadow
> where there was no fresh air but  - just _perhaps condense this line by dropping the first 3 words. _


I like your suggestion because there would be a lovely poetic pause. But I would like to keep the slants and assonation intact. Ummm, now as I'm typing it's a toss up!


> which I have no recollection of sleeping or dreaming in. _better would be "in which I have no recollection of sleeping or dreaming"_


 Yes, that would be gramatically correct but grammatical formality as such would not be a good fit for this very raw poem.

I see you noted that I employed "automatic writing" (for the first time). It was a rather unsettling experience but it did get me that "rawness" I was going for. Afterwards, I chose not to edit anything out to see how it would be received.  And it got its reception! Now, standing as better poem.

I must say that one of the top things I love about writing is the edit. That I missed -

 Thanks again, Thomas. Means a great deal to me that you found this piece one of depth. L-


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## Firemajic (May 11, 2019)

The fierce imagery is the meat and bones of this poem, without that, this would be only a skeleton .... hollow and lacking the ability to show your reader the utter loss and desolation... grim.... sooo grim, and surreal, but I can catch a whiff of that cheap perfume ... clinging to my skin, the way this poem clings to my mind...


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## SilverMoon (May 11, 2019)

Juls, thank you. I think "Evening in Paris" (those horrid little cobolt blue bottles!) is now discontinued. I hope so because if I ever get a _whiff _of it again I'll go over the edge! See? It's the stuff of this that draws me to psychologicall thirllers. I know them well....


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## fspecter (May 19, 2019)

I loved the piano keys imagery here – the grotesqueness of the old teeth image followed by the peas taking the reader right back to childhood discipline (a fairly universal image of childhood!). 

Totally agreed with your edits as well, I also wanted to lose cobalt blue in the original – it seems a lot more evocative with the barer bones of the words.


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## dannyboy (May 21, 2019)

SilverMoon said:


> EDIT
> 
> *ROOM *(pending for change in title bar)
> 
> ...



Great work, just suggestions, but loved it.


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## SilverMoon (May 22, 2019)

fspecter said:


> I loved the piano keys imagery here – the grotesqueness of the old teeth image followed by the peas taking the reader right back to childhood discipline (a fairly universal image of childhood!).
> 
> Totally agreed with your edits as well, I also wanted to lose cobalt blue in the original – it seems a lot more evocative with the barer bones of the words.


 Thanks, fspecter! Glad you liked the small stream of imagery atop that bureau. And, yep. In this case, less is more. So pleased you liked. Laurie



dannyboy said:


> Great work, just suggestions, but loved it.


 Some keen edits! Consider it done.





> cut out, that, that that?


 About the sequences. They were very deliberate. Most importantly, her strong emphasis of "that" is meant to be translated as a "thing". The _stuff _of being trapped. The  repeating is meant to emphasis her anger - her way of cursing, screaming at THAT. Hope this makes sense? Thanks, Danny


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