0.
I tried to talk in flowers to blend in
with the people who were themselves.
There were numbers on the wall,
so many numbers.
Underneath the exit sign there were
crushed dandelions.
I.
The thing they said at reception was
mellifluous, reeking of garden soil
and fence posts.
They said they received the 'all'
and the 'selves'.
That there were flowers that weren't recognised
for having crooked petals, or crooks in the folds
of their mint green sepals.
That had to stop. This they knew.
I saw the new forms they had printed,
filled with blanks and lines but still
filled.
II.
I live in a world of not writing these things down.
My ixoras could be roses, or more fancifully, buttercups.
I removed the printer from my house
many years ago.
Because
is it a wildflower if it is still worried
about artifices like paper and pen?
about how it looks in a portrait,
if Emily Dickinson was holding a heart's ease
or . . .
Maybe, maybe. The numbers show it matters,
the frequency of images, of wildflower picking.
Choose us, choose us, they cry.
But as for me, I
am forgetting the act of choosing and not choosing.
Forgetting the forms.
Forgetting the motions, at least
implicitly.
Perhaps you should, as well.
I will wait until you do,
even if it takes imagining impossibilities,
thinking in petals that are cubic,
stems that are soundwaves,
and all of these
ambiguous things.
-
Author's questions:
1.) Why do you think I use so much flower imagery and how do I use it?
2.) Do you sympathise or empathise with the speaker? If yes/no, why?
3.) Does the irregular line length and rhythm help or harm the poem?
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
139,535 Literary Works • 672,600 Reviews
trying to be like others, or pleasing others, as the review below said. this reminds me of hiding your own emotions. putting on a face, a personality, that isn’t yours.
people taking their lives, the ones who pretended to be someone they weren’t. they struggled inside.
i indeed empathize with the speaker, mostly because of my own struggles. i struggle immensely with my mind, it telling me i should not tell anybody (although i have, just very few people) my feelings. i think my own experience helps me interpret this, in my own way.
i feel like this poem shows that even beautiful people, are dying inside.
I think you are using flower imagery to show that even beautiful things like flowers dry out and die.I would say that I emphasize with the speaker because I feel as if they are talking about pleasing everybody.Nobody needs to please others. I don’t. Yet there is the need to do so. I like how the poem is written. It shows how insecure and urgent the speaker’s thoughts are. I hope that you will have a lovely day/night.