there is a voice curled in the bulb
of my bedroom ceiling light.
it speaks each night as I am falling asleep,
murmuring light on to the walls from the earlier day;
but eventually, it spits. it goes dark, and there is no sound.
I hesitate, unsure of where it has gone, whisper it out
with the soft pliers of my hand, anxious
in the silence it leaves behind it.
I bring it to my ear, waiting for the sound
of something like the sun, as a shell
keeps the ocean under its tongue,
but its echo only rattles, tinny and small:
presses the quiet sound of barely alive into my palm.
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140,178 Literary Works • 673,037 Reviews
ooh how lovely. this leaves a great amount of room for your audience to ponder the piece, wonder what it's about, and definitely reread it!
only a few suggestions I might give to improve:
a) you used 'light' twice in a few lines in the first stanza, and one of my biggest writing peeves is when words are repetitive. obviously this is really minor but it still bugged me.
b) your very last line. it would be beautiful...if it made sense. the wording is off to me. I can't understand what you're saying. "sound of barely alive" is where you lost me.
otherwise really well done and well-written. looking forward to seeing more of your stuff! (I'm not super familiar with your work yet)
In the spirit of Review Day, on behalf of the Firebolts,
~iron.n
I revise not as a judge, but as a fellow writer eligible for judgment on the same level.
I was amazed at the subject matter you chose for this piece. I never would have thought a light bulb could produce such amazing poetry-I mean you obviously produced it but I'm assuming you know what I mean.
You were very descriptive within the piece which made it very enjoyable to read. If another person attempted writing a poem on a light bulb it would surely be bland, however you captured emotion.
--eva
I quite like this and I feel as if it speaks from a child's perspective and their comfort in night lights (because the dark is spooky and full of monsters). The fragility and smallness of the light also reminds me of a fairy or spirit that guides the child. It's unfortunate the light breaks, but the curious narrator has hope that the 'voice' will return. I suppose it is a loss of innocence.
You could continue the story and show the process of the narrator overcoming the loss and finding hope, but otherwise I like this poem, so keep up the good work.