I dreamed
That my poem
Was falling down
A flight of stairs
Through horror and misery,
Passion and ridicule, and into
Pride and strength and worship and praise
But passed out of the Stairwell of the Abastracts
Then; and into a room of liveried gentlemen
And ladies. They rose to greet my poem
As he tumbled into their midst; they
Inspired him. Metaphors, they were,
And similes: why here, a man of
Hunched back and sniveling
Face; he would do for
Cowardice. A tall
Man with a great
smirk; he stood
for pride.
My poem
Ran out of room
On its first staircase;
Ah well, it built another
And this one of construction
Spitefully uneven.
We return, anon, to the clamoring crowd:
They had begun to dance.
They arranged themselves artfully,
With gaudy splashes of color; they spun and jigged
In strange fashion, and
My poem didn't like it. He rearranged them
And thought himself happy
But another poem, far older than he
Didn't like the new arrangement;
So my poem rearranged the nobles again
(And though exceeding polite, they grew annoyed.)
He tried making them Shine
Or
Cry
Fly
Lie
Shy
Spy
Fry
Rye
(even
Rye
!)
Sigh
Fie!
Why?
But soon he ran out of abstractions.
And the nobles out of patience.
They kicked my poem down
The nearest staircase
And soon he knew:
It was all just a dream.
Author notes
Minorchar
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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The second stanza makes me think of how we may try to make our work "fit" someone's else's idea of perfection, when in reality, though standards exist, it's all largly subjective . . . I loved your imagery, and the flow made for an entertaining read.
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Thank you, and you were pretty much dead right about the second stanza.
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I really love this poem -- the fun narrative that easily propels me through the entirety of the poem -- the development of character and the rhythm/pace that support the development -- all great.
One specific thing I enjoyed was how the first four lines tell the story of poetry. What makes poetry poetry is that it has units we call "lines." These lines cascade down the page in such a way that we feel compelled to continue. Line breaks can surprise us, propel us, or let us stop and think. You've done a great job with it.
Oh, and I also love the creativity of that list, "cry fly lie shy," ending as it does, "Sigh Fie! Why? -
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Thank you very much.
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Interesting piece to be certain, nice flow to it and a very uniquely cool concept, nice personification here!Best of luck in this and all of your endeavors.
Hetohke'e 
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Delightful
Interesting conceit. The opening is delightful a true feeling of the Lewis Carroll in poem falling down stairs. The first seven lines of the second verse could be done away with. The feel clumsy, lack the finess of the rest of the poem. You adroit use of words and images is to be commended. Please tighten this up a little and it will truly sing. Love, Tom B.
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I like this premise and how you carry it through.
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Thanks.
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Excellent premise
Although, I am confused; does the poet or the poem have the dream? If it is the poet, perhaps your second last line should read:-And soon I knew-
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Thanks, Bob. I think you're right, I should reconsider that line.
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awesome
wow i have honestly never read a poem quite like this, a poem anout a poem how extroderly odd and theres somthing else there that i feel i should comment on but cant seem to put my finger on it. i also love the personifaction of a poem.
what a awesome poem
keep it up
emeraldsoldier
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I have never even read a poem about a poem.I was impressed at even the very thought of it as food for poetry, only to find it was a dream,
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"stairwell of abstracts" "metaphors, they were, and similies" this is one of the only poems about a poem that i've ever liked. impressive.
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Thank you.
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