Granite Poem by Alyssa Rieper
Granite
Carefully read, this prose is at still
Not shaking or budging at it's own will
Each word will bow to the one at it's left
And the ones to the right are servants at best
Why won't it change? Is it written in stone?
Craved into granite, etched out in bone?
There's no way to know and every way to say
There's millions of choices and a correct chosen way
This writing won't change, just save and fill
But your one right way certainly will
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 8:48:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
At points this poem flows well but it is interrupted by forced rhymes. Instead of forcing the rhyming couplets, this poem may have done better with more breathing room in the form. Write it how it comes out-this poem suffered because of how you tried to shoehorn your ideas into a form they really didn't fit too well. It also feels like you are trying to make a point but you just never get there. I feel a metaphor tugging at me, but it's been almost ten read-throughs now and I don't see it. These two lines are the best in the poem and could be the focal point of a reworking of this poem.: 'Why won't it change? Is it written on stone? Shaped into granite, etched out in bone? '