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Ninety-five Floors

 

I sit with a woman in a tall building.
She asks the year, I tell her two thousand
and eight. She shakes her head in disbelief.
I ask if she thought she’d live this long.
For a moment she thinks, but does not answer,
she is somewhere on floor six and tells
me her mother will be here soon.
On my drive home, the hospital I was born in
has been torn down. I become disorientated
and lose where I am, a small heritage
house astray within skyscrapers of seasons.

























A contest entry

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1 - 36 of 36

  • Thomas Scott gold member
    October 23
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    LONG LIST


  • bird at rose
    September 3, 2008

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    You persuade each piece of life together

    So amazing how often we can go about our normal routine, and one circumstance sticks in your head like a strong, open door of memory. I'm almost wondering if the first line could be a metaphor as well, or only literally in a tower, but it's reflective either way. Speculating, "For a moment she thinks, but does not answer" for a little while, it might be an emotional confusion in return... as existence may otherwise be joyful the more it's extended. I know times of feeling a little relief when I think it's a couple days later or so, and find out it's not.

    Intriguing in line 6 and 7, "floor six" is flexible in perception; a mark on the calendar ~ in packed neighborhoods of our lives, we're used to seeing relatives "soon" not "now."

    There is the same correlation to yourself ripped apart whether physically or mentally or both with, "the hospital I was born in has been torn down." More than just sad, but those records have meaning to you, like half of yourself has lost it's proof now. And, that is continually shown throughout this poem. The last couplet has umph, with time or extra tasks building an over-abundance in your city, you're shadowed and hidden from the slow pace we seem to need to keep track of everything. Especially with all the things to get over that hit us often.

    Very influential, thanks for sharing,
    Daisy

    • tara wilson gold member
      September 4, 2008

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      Daisy -

      thank you so much for your thoughtful comment on this particualar poem, as there have been comments left on it saying it was quite confusing...and I have even thought that myself about this poem at times, too....lol...it was one of those poems I wrote and edited and edited and edited, taking the metaphor as deep as I could go with it...and maybe not left enough for the reader to go on..

      I know you've read this poem many times before you commented.

      And yes, you are right, the first line, 'the tall building' is all metaphor.

      In fact, your interpretation of this poem is pretty bang on.


      - Tara

  • Topnotchsy
    August 12, 2008

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    Beautiful piece. I've read a couple of your poems recently and you certainly know how to paint a scene (with color and emotion and a touch of nostalgia) incredibly well.


  • Namita
    June 29, 2008

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    beautiful - I love the way you always tell a story within your lines. Wonderful writing here, Tara.

    - Namita


  • Nicolette gold member
    June 26, 2008
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    You know, reading this again and reviewing my observation about the line breaks, i think you should leave it just like it is, Tara!

  • Nicolette gold member
    June 26, 2008

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    You are really venturing into new pastures with these narrative poems of yours, Tara - and I like it. I do however think that you can still play around a bit with the linebreaks (yeah, me and my linebreaks again, lolol).

    I really liked the "storyline" here, the concept of passing time and I think you did very well to give your entry an authentic and imaginative voice. I liked the contrasts - the young versus the old, and the image of "she is somewhere on floor six" is so very vivid and poignant - so too the closing lines. Wonderful closure! Thank you for a lovely entry.

    ~ Nicolette

  • Thomas Scott gold member
    June 22, 2008

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    touching and real

    Very rich stuff. I'm not sure the line - On my drive home, the hospital I was born in has been torn down - says what you mean. Surely, you noticed it had been torn down on the way home.
    Just my view but the literal punch of the old woman claiming her mother was coming to get her rather begs that the next line be as literal.
    But even if that criticism is valid and maybe it isn't, I love the poem, anyway.


  • zochit2me gold member
    June 20, 2008

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    This has such depth Tara...The line of her being on the sixth floor reminds me of the saying stuck in between floors...like she is there but not there or that she has alzheimers and is disoriented as well. The last part says to me about how small you feel among the largeness of the building/city as you reflect on the seasons of your life.
    You are really getting good at these types of poems and your following speaks for itself....more comments than carter has pills ...lol. But what a sweetheart you are and so deserving of all of it.

    ☼Becky☼


  • klassy lassy
    June 20, 2008

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    ....and such are seasons of loss and remembrance in the corridors of the heart. We hope to grow old with some grace and memory of our roots to guide us. Skyscrapers: one floor is another's ceiling and I dream of blue sky.


  • Nangaleema
    June 20, 2008

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    A brief introduction to the paradox of future regression.

    'skyscrapers of seasons' - I love the subtlety of this.

    Even at my tender age (hehehe), I find myself on floor six from time to time. It's not a bad place to be when the circumstances are right. - Mary Jo


  • sailor ptolema
    June 17, 2008

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    excellent.

    oh wow, this is such a compelling piece!
    and a bit sad, that time moves out of our control and things are always changing.
    so thought provoking!
    loved it.


  • Dalaney gold member
    June 16, 2008

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    a tender piece of life lived and life slipping...i love this. I may not have interpreted your work the way it was meant to be read, but this is what I took away and it is wonderful. Love, Lane


  • Danny Beatty gold member
    June 13, 2008

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    i must agree with Aesthete2000 ... there is a lot more to this than that, though ... there is the woman on the sixth floor (not very high up) and there is the final line (skyscrapers of seasons) ... and there is the house 'astray' among these: the womans place is made small by the enormousness of time, and the heart of ours often becomes lost, a state of temporary, sometimes permanent despair when we see what the intensity of life truly has to offer and how we may not have even begun to reach.

    Again, same format and approach as your prior poem 'Cloud.' I like this new pure narrative style you are working with. It is difficult to master, though, and that is what is great about it. It looks so easy, yet, if not done correctly, forces the poem into a shape and sense of pointless drivel. You have taken a dangerous style of writing and done it very well, for your poetry I have seen in this style is neither pointless or drivel.

    excellent

    ,,,Peace

    Moqui


  • Aesthete2000 gold member
    June 12, 2008

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    Time passes,
    beyond our control,
    the beginning meeting the ending
    all too soon,
    confusing us in its swiftness.

    The situation, the mood, the disorientation,
    both real and unreal, captured superbly.

    Glad I discovered your work.

    Aesthete





  • BurmaShave
    June 11, 2008

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    I am writing this before reading any other comments. This baffles me. I am thinking the woman you are sitting with has alzheimers and thats why she thinks her mother is coming. This part:

    On my drive home, the hospital I was born in
    has been torn down. I become disorientated
    and lose where I am, a small heritage
    house astray within skyscrapers of seasons---This is the most confusing part for me. The way it is written, if taken literally is describing the hospital being torn down AS you are driving. The tense in this phrase:

    the hospital I was born in
    has been torn down-- doesn't seem quite right to me, maybe "Is being torn down", but then I am not entirely sure what you are saying. It could be that I just don't get the metaphor.

    I do understand the line:
    a small heritage
    house astray within skyscrapers of seasons--is describing feeling like a child amongst elders, and I like this description alot. I'm just afraid I don't really understand this one, sorry.


  • Balldinger silver member
    June 11, 2008

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    jerking Herculean circles...

    in heaven's stairwell, there sits a purple leprechaun with pointy shoes and a shower cap, and he wishes everyone well on their way home. the last one to take the upward journey is suppose to to carry the leprechaun the rest of the way. your poem tells a similar story. ~ Ed


  • maggiejamespoet silver member
    June 11, 2008
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    Wonderful poem--you have such a great talent! Good luck in the contest!


  • faderman1959
    June 11, 2008

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    So very thought provoking! Excellent story and metaphor here. Life is always in motion even if we don't want to see it!

  • dx d by me
    June 11, 2008

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    I like the metaphor of age/years, it is effective in allowing this reader to feel the loss of present/past. Good form too, the compressed lines give an enclosed, somewhat stark gravity to the realization of change moving in our own lives. Nicely written Tara. Geo


  • Heath Thompson
    June 11, 2008
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    Blimey Tara - spooky or what? I want part 2!


  • Mari Goes gold member
    June 11, 2008

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    It feels odd when we have moments like this, it gives us a slightly idea of how they feel inside their heads.
    This is quite a moving poem Tara, for more reasons than one.
    And yes you can, everything

  • Jokerman
    June 11, 2008

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    excellent

    this captures the feeling alienation and isolation so many people feel in our modern impersonal society.i love the minimalistic style the reader is thrust into the heart of the poem and witnesses a little slice of life from the inside.


  • arafura gold member
    June 10, 2008
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    Very deep my friend. You express the feeling of passing seasons so well. Brilliant!


  • MJ Donnelly gold member
    June 10, 2008

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    Wow, almost like a strange and beautiful time travel story, or at least that's how it made me feel anyway. All the best in the contest Tara.


    Love and peace always,
    mj.


  • monstruo
    June 10, 2008
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    The smallest details often pull me outside of myself as well Tara.


  • Cup-a-Joe
    June 10, 2008

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    Excellent Visual

    Im somewhere on the sixth floor myself.lol
    The reader can see her sitting there with you, Gold for sure.
    Joe

  • Virgoan
    June 10, 2008

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    Excellent, there is a moment that pulls me and the strings attached to my life after reading this.

    Thanks Tara.


    HENSLEY


  • CaliOkie silver member
    June 10, 2008

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    The layers of detail are what most impress. This is really well done. Every image is so vivid and I find myself rereading it with added meanings each time.

    Excellent.

    Garrison


  • Catie Sheeran gold member
    June 10, 2008

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    amazing! I love how you tell a story and you are so good at it Great Work...Loved the read


  • apples fell
    June 10, 2008

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    A post! I am totally happy now. Hopefully this will stay Tara as it is lovely. The simplicity of the words and thoughts were gorgeous. I do wonder of course if some words could be cut but then I think, It all sort of gels. I think important poetry should be documented sometimes and left alone. This feels so relevant and alive. Beautiful work Tara. I likes.

    ;


  • Jersene gold member
    June 10, 2008
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    excellent!


  • AJ Morelli gold member
    June 10, 2008

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    this is superb Tara, an excellent entry for the contest theme...


    great write


    al


  • Cerulean Sunrise gold member
    June 10, 2008
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    I wish I could learn to tell a tale like that.
    wonderful work.

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