I looked into the Glass and saw
Inexorable time grinding down
All ripple that once might have been.
No disharmonious note or strand,
No imperfection marred it's sheen
Feeling contrary, I took a bit
Of stone and slashed the pristine Glass
Four, five times, then I lost count
Yet even as I tore the marks
As one the swirling sands scrubbed them out
As though affronted, I balled my fists
And blindly struck the offending Glass
Like a madman, crazed by what only he can see
I tore into the placid frame
Till I fell on the floor half-senselessly
There I looked up, and with horror saw
The unchanged Glass as smooth as lies
Still hung with all Time passing by
Within its frame, unconscious or uncaring
Of all my petty sound and fury.
Friday, January 15, 2010
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1 comment:
Now that I've had a little time to digest this one, I have to say I really like it. It may be my favorite of your poems (perhaps because it leaves me the least confused?). The phrase "Of all my petty sound and fury," sounds so much like Yeats to me... really like that.
That said, I don't like the way "feeling contrary" fits to the second paragraph. I don't have any idea how else you could say that, but it seems unnecessary (even inappropriate) to give the speaker this emotion. It lessens the impact of the other expressions of feelings. You simple describe a bit more, "under the sand-steam" or "from inside the glass" if those fit...
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