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CORRIDORS
Call them corridors or halls
those spaces linking here to there.
Polished floors and bright glazed walls
which lead us to that next somewhere.
And the doors along each side
which one to open, which to be passed?
Once opened up and we're inside
they all become, in sum, our past.
Some of them we walk alone
others in a jostling crowd;
some are quiet as a long dead phone,
others are often really loud.
Trundled down them after birth,
running down them in school days.
Who knows which will lead us on to mirth
as we navigate their maze?
The day will come we'll close a door
and be confronted with that light
which forms that last long corridor
leading us toward the final night.
Style / type:
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity):
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction):
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage:
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Comments
judyanne
Fri, 2012-04-06 11:58
nice stan
'polished floors, unwindowed walls
which lead us to the next somewhere' - love this
'All the doors along each side
which to open, which is passed?
once opened and we're inside - reads short to me - maybe 'once opened and we are inside'?
they all become, in sum, our past'
'Some of them we walk alone
others in a jostling crowd
some quiet as a dead phone - also reads short to me... 'some quiet as an off-line phone'??
others are quite often loud'
love the finish
'The day will come we'll close a door
and be confronted with that light
which forms the final corridor
that leads us to the final night'
hugs
judy
'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)
scribbler
Fri, 2012-04-06 16:04
Hi Judy
I maybe should have followed my 1st instinct as the lines you mentioned were longer when they first exited my pen lol. I'll give them some more thought and read them aloud again then see what I can come up with.............stan
author commentIRiz
Mon, 2018-02-12 11:16
Love it
Hello Stan, thank you for sharing.
It feels as if you are hesitantly walking through the long hallway
Endless doors, deaf and blind walls.
And finally one and only one door that leads to the night. Equalizing, releaving darkness,
no matter what and where your choices and how many of that doors you have tried to open. Brilliant write.
The last stanza though sounds as if you are still not sure if the night is a final answer.
Am I right? Or it is my bias?
IRiz
scribbler
Mon, 2018-02-12 12:40
Hi Riz
Aren't we all unsure what is behind that final door? I am pleased you enjoyed this oldie which an edit brought back on stream.......stan
author commentIRiz
Mon, 2018-02-12 13:53
Yes indeed, we are unsure.
Yes indeed, we are unsure.
IRiz
raj
Mon, 2018-02-12 15:05
The different planes and
The different planes and perspectives you have created Stan while walking us through the corridors, some in letter and some in spirit is absolutely remarkable. This is testimony of a peculiar vision you have and the vast vocabulary you possess to be able to create those rhymes, non of which appear as forced rhyme...
Among the many lines i liked, i liked this one even more "they all become, in sum, our past."
A pleasure read...
warm regards...
raj (sublime_ocean)
scribbler
Mon, 2018-02-12 15:56
Hi raj
Hmmmm......you trying to sell me something? lmao. I'm kinda flabbergasted that this edited poem gathers such praise considering it was almost ignored for so long. Appreciate your time and kind words
author commentEumolpus
Mon, 2018-02-12 19:52
great theme
and very universal. Really nice find! The opening stanza is really stellar. It flows really well for me. One issue would remove "long" and just say "dead phone". Here I feel the poem is weak:
Who can tell which one will lead to mirth
and which of them will leave us cool?
These lines feel contrived. Leave us cool is too cute. Mirth seems a forced rhyme.
Otherwise a haunting poem, well conceived. Universal connection here.
..
Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings
scribbler
Mon, 2018-02-12 20:09
yeah.
those two lines bother me also. But fear not! the editor shall strike again (not sure when though lol). always good to see you.....stan
PS the tough part of writing western classic is when changing one line it is often necessary to rework an entire stanza
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