Significant Figures

I like to think that I live in a bubble
The set of all those disinterested
With convivial sadness
And rhyming strife

Still, I hear the peals of nervous laughter
In the cleat-slough on the linoleum
Broken twigs underfoot
Window shades for the sun
And the insect whine of the TV

Crying in a bubble is inadvisable.
But irritation is unavoidable
and a suspension
of discussion
of depression
is admirable

For mankind is grown from the garden of chances,
Every exponential zero a miracle
To be counted and kissed
With fragile tears of fecund joy

Those who find significance in numbers
are cold mathematicians
But I am a poet
And with sadness and time insignificant
I can find time to count the zeroes.

(Edited for flow)

Comments & reviews · 5
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User avatar
Cade
Review
Cade wrote a review · Sat Oct 06, 2007 1:23 am

SIG FIGS! Ah, chemistry, physics, and/or math...

Meaning. I really like what you're saying here, the part about counting the zeroes and all, setting apart the soft and hard sciences. What I don't understand is the purpose of being in a bubble.
You begin with the speaker being in this proverbial bubble, but at "For mankind is grown from the garden of chances," it all changes, and you fail to return to the beginning idea. The first half incorporated none of the second half, and vice versa. I'd like to see things a little tighter knit.

Diction. For the most part, your word choice was decent. I take issue with two stanzas in particular:

I like to think
That I step in my bubble
Oblivious to sadness
And the blue gloom outside.
The whole bubble, oblivious, avoiding gloom and sadness thing is awfully cliche and isn't an attractive beginning. Pull your reader in with carefully chosen words and interesting images, not a whole stanza of navel-gazing.
Crying in a bubble is inadvisable.
But irritation is unavoidable
and a suspension
of discussion
of depression
is admirable
I must say, I love the first line; it's very candid and humorous in its own way, and it's probably one of your best lines. But what follows just ruins the whole stanza for me. Words, words, words, with no sentences or meanings truly attached to them. Readers find long lists of words unappetizing.

Imagery. You have some lovely images and attention to detail here, and I'd love to see you bring it out more. Here are some great examples:
Still, I hear the peals of nervous laughter
In the cleat-slough on the linoleum

And the insect whine of the TV

For mankind is grown from the garden of chances,


Good work, and keep it up!
-Colleen

Honestly, I've never read a poem about math before. I think you did a great job describing the completely different world that is math. It didn't flow well in some places, but I liked your word choices, like "fecund." They really added a sophisticated touch to the poem.

User avatar
Leja
Review
Leja wrote a review · Thu Oct 04, 2007 9:34 pm

Not much more than vague generalities seem to be happening here. I think you could make everything a bit tighter, spread ideas out through the whole poem, and choose your words more carefully. There are some nice lines, but as they aren't well-bracketed, they lose their effect.

User avatar
Pidgin_Princess
Comment

that was a great poem, but it didn't flow very well and got kinda murky in places. as much as i'd like to do a line-by-line, i gotta run.

Random avatar
AymehMonz Review

Rigel wrote:I like to think
That I step lightly
In my polarized bubble,
Oblivious to conniving convivial sadness
And the blue gloom otherwise.

Still, I hear the peals of nervous laughter
In the cleat-slough on the linoleum
Broken twigs underfoot
Window shades
And the insect whine of the television.

Crying in a bubble
Is inadvisable.
But irritation
Is unavoidable
and a suspension
of discussion
of depression
is admirable

For mankind is grown from the garden of chances,
Every exponential zero a miracle
To be counted and kissed
With fragile tears of fecund joy

And with sadness and time insignificant
I can find time to count the zeroes.




I think that this poem is extremely good.
I like the lines
'To be counted and kissed
With fragile tears of fecund joy'
especially.
Keep up the good work
:)
x



the day belongs to expectations but the night belongs to me
— canopy