Tight corsets shape the mould
Folds of flesh are scraped
Into a new, unfriendly space,
Leading to an enhanced waist
And a shortage of breath.
And so it is with words,
In some contemporary modes,
Tight phrases squeeze the sense
But suffocate the music.
These are but cameos
Of a minor Art which soon will pass
Into a merited oblivion.
You don't know just how happy I am that we do not have to wear those dreadful restraints..these days...you penned it well here my friend....
i THINK THEY WERE A WAIST OR WASTE OF BREATH. i THINK IT WAS THE COLOUR THAT WAS MOST OFF-PUTTING!
This is a fantastic analogy for me! I've spent allot of time reading modern poetry and trying to appreciate new forms...some of it I love, but yes...some of it feels like a corset...I've also worn one of those...but not very long....another comparison you might consider: wearing narrow stilleto heels and trying to walk (the kind women have plastic surgery to fit into...removing part of the bone of the foot) .... Also note: when one wears a corset...the excess fat simply spills out in awkward places. This is so well written and you've accomplished so much with so few words... yet not too few. Thanks Tom.
I've not actually worn a corset and though I have small feet for my height I could never get into Isa's high heels. She wasn't a great fan of them. The only time I can remember her wearing them is a my daughter's degree ceremony in Colchester when she tottered with some difficulty accross the main quad! I must say I don't see many of the examples of that type of writing on PH but one or two of the leading English poets seem afflicted by it. In my opinion American verse is on the whole more expansive and the lyrical examples of Eliot and Plath have become more noticeable over your side of the pond. Maybe I'm biased. Next to the French, I love American Literature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
waiting for that oblivion