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Planned Obsolecence: (1 Viewer)

dannyboy

WF Veterans
I
From the beginning it is planned
that end
the futility to pretend
the refrigerator will last into the next decade
the television will beam pictures out
until the sun eventually switches off
the act of drying hair with the hairdryer
brings the little puff of smoke ever closer.

Intelligent design by factories
who know the side to butter their bread
is not the long-lasting strength of year
into new year,
rather they harbour the bright and shiny exit
once the designated warranty is buried
under dust and receipts in the drawer
beside a sadly degrading computer.

II
Father is dead now
these past thirty years
my brothers and I have grey beards,
there is the slightest shake in the fingers
of my sister’s hand that once held mine
as she walked me across the street,
mother forgets I called yesterday
and I have grown
past that little boy of six with children
she cannot remember
and a wife she forgets each phone call
that she has met.

III
old Nelson is gone
his heart beat until the pain
was too much to bear
his blind eyes through his ears
followed my movements about the house
he only rose
to find the food bowl and sometimes
if luck chose my side
to ask to piss outside.

I miss the sound of his feet
plucking sound down the corridor
the feel of his small head
resting on my lap;

I have a picture of him
painted by my friend, it shocks me to think
Kevin has been gone 5 years.
 

2020Syd2020

Senior Member
Hello,

This is powerful stuff. I think each part has its own merits but for me I would consider Part One feeling a little bit disparate from two and three. It seems to me that they are both so personal to the speaker where as part one feels broader and less personal. Perhaps you could include the image of someone close to the speaker drying their hair/ watching t.v.?

Cheers

Syd
 

stuub27

Senior Member
Wow

OK, now I have to try and elaborate!

Firstly, the title/topic/theme resonates very strongly with me. The sheer temporariness (is that a word?? Spell check is letting me have it) of all we possess and love

Then the way it is presented and written. Powerful words and structure

And the ending. Love it.

But so much for my fledgling attempts at analysis. Thanks for sharing!
 

Foxee

Patron
Patron
I'm sorry if I'm the last to know but are you considering a book of poems like this? I would want it if so.

I wish I had more to offer with analysis but I'm going to stick with what I know I like. The progression of the poem works wonderfully for me, the foundation of the first part explaining 'what is' in concrete this-happens-to-everyone terms that are even slightly whimiscal. The middle part about family that brings it to the heart, ending on the dog which works well as an individual heart-and-mechanics example. Beautifully done.

One of my very favorite lines in this was about the dog's feet "plucking sound down the corridor", you have that sound nailed so that it's impossible not to hear it echo in your head.

Really strong, beautiful piece. I'm glad to leave the technical adjusting to people who know better than I.
 

ritudimrinautiyal

Senior Member
I
From the beginning it is planned
that end
the futility to pretend
the refrigerator will last into the next decade
the television will beam pictures out
until the sun eventually switches off
the act of drying hair with the hairdryer
brings the little puff of smoke ever closer.

Intelligent design by factories
who know the side to butter their bread
is not the long-lasting strength of year
into new year,
rather they harbour the bright and shiny exit
once the designated warranty is buried
under dust and receipts in the drawer
beside a sadly degrading computer.

II
Father is dead now
these past thirty years
my brothers and I have grey beards,
there is the slightest shake in the fingers
of my sister’s hand that once held mine
as she walked me across the street,
mother forgets I called yesterday
and I have grown
past that little boy of six with children
she cannot remember
and a wife she forgets each phone call
that she has met.

III
old Nelson is gone
his heart beat until the pain
was too much to bear
his blind eyes through his ears
followed my movements about the house
he only rose
to find the food bowl and sometimes
if luck chose my side
to ask to piss outside.

I miss the sound of his feet
plucking sound down the corridor
the feel of his small head
resting on my lap;

I have a picture of him
painted by my friend, it shocks me to think
Kevin has been gone 5 years.

I don't want to call it a poem, to just read it like that as creative piece. It is something that hangs the emotion in the front wall, by the side of the clock, reminding you again and again of that space inside the heart.

But yes I agree with Foxee, this and other poems I have read earlier are quite seem to be taking to collection. Looking forward to read your book someday.

All the very good luck.

Ritu
 
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