Poetry Forum

1.
I obtained a job in a building.
The payment for the job was ok.
I couldn’t grumble, I mean there are people
worse off then me.

I work in an office full of people.
And computers.
I work in an office with
people and computers.

And carpets.

Some corners are brightened up by plants.
Fake plants where the green seems too green,
some leaves are covered with dust.

My day is spent doing work that
makes no sense to me.
I am a small link in chain,
a small cog turning and getting dizzy.

The office is silent.

Underground, in the basement I think
furnaces and machines
power the building.


2.
One day I think it was cold outside I vaguely recall seeing trees bend in the wind out side the window it may have been winter on that day I was making tea and felt the urge to confess to a colleague any colleague my desire to escape I whispered to the colleague my suspicions he seemed uninterested the kettle boiled as I stirred by tea I knew I shouldn’t have confided in him I left the kitchen area and my chair and desk seemed miles away

As I moved towards my desk
it felt I was being followed

3.
A piece of paper lay on my keyboard.
“There is no escape”.
All eyes were staring at me.
My tea was still warm.

A story of boringly repetitive office work, when you should have been working, or indeed was working but so repetitive and dire, your mind begins to wander,till you could scream, LET ME OUT .... That's the message I get from this. Made me smile as I was once in such a job I thought I might go completely mad. Wanted to scream for a full ten minutes to relieve my boredom. Is that what the meaning behind this piece is? Maybe I'm wrong ? I quite liked it for that reason only, as poetry it wasn't to my taste, but that's a personal thing. Everyone else may love it. keep writing x

I certainly get your meaning! I think if this were mine I might even up the repetition about the people and the computers. The ending is rather obvious - can you somehow show how they can insinuate that there is no escape, without having to actually say it? Windows locked perhaps, fire escape doors with the handles only painted on?

And actually you need uninterested, not disinterested.

Ros

Hi John,

I enjoyed this. You should come and work in our office, the constant crises would soon have you eager to get back to the boredom...

I liked this:

"I work in an office full of people.
And computers.
I work in an office with
people and computers.

And carpets."

I liked the way the computers go from being furniture in the first mention to almost being co-workers in the second. And then how the "and carpets" ironically elevates the flooring to the same level as the people and computers.

--

I wonder whether this:

"I think it’s some kind of prison."

Is too direct? You could say the same thing more tangentially:

"For a moment I imagine bars on the windows."

Or even not say it at all, as the whole poem has that sort of mood, not to mention the title...

--

At the end:

"A piece of paper lay on my keyboard.
“There is no escape”, it read.
I looked around.
All eyes were staring at me.
The silence was so loud and
my tea was still warm."

You don't need "it read"... I wanted nobody to be looking, as if nobody would admit to leaving the paper. The way you have it is nicely sinister, but has broken from the main theme of the piece, e.g. the lack of anything interesting...

HTH

Ian

Thanks once again for the feedback – have made a few slight amendments.

Susan – spot on. This is about the tedious nature of work and specifically working in an office where all you can hear is the clack of keyboards being hit by bitten fingernails.

Ros, I have through about going down the avenue of the locked fire doors and the barred windows but I wanted something less obvious hence the appearance of an anonymous note. I wanted to give the air of it being a prison that you can leave but the fear is you will come back – a kind of prison of the mind which you can’t escape.

Bodkin – thanks for feedback. Glad you picked up on the meaning of the first few lines – the people and computers being viewed as equals, however in my office I think computers are valued more then those who use them.

With all respect John, I found this incredibly dull and prosaic. Plodding is a word that springs to mind. I suspect you wanted to create a specific effect that reflects the ennui of the speaker's situation, but in terms of images, prosody and ideas, there is nothing that makes me sit up and take notice. The title reads like a work-in-progress too.

There is nothing unique here. Not that every poem has to be unique, but I think when working with a well trodden trope such as this, there needs to be some kind of fresh twist.

I am probably in the minority here, but that'll be nothing new. Basically John, I think you can write this better.
Regards.

B.

~

thanks for the feedback Brian.

Yeah, looking at it through the eys of that feedback it kind of makes sense what you say, it rather pedestrian.

Maybe a complete overall is required? Maybe...

Hi John. I’m not sure I’d go quite as far as Brian, because on my first read-through, I definitely got your point, and I wondered if you were deliberately using a sort of flat, numb prosody to echo the theme of your poem (the dullness of some kinds of work). And perhaps you were. But, if so, I think you might have gone a bit too far (for my taste) – I think it needs to be spiced with some images, language and structure that separates it more clearly from mere prose with unusual line breaks. Good idea though – hope you can re-work it.

Hi John

This is a really tough remit. If you manage to capture the sense of boredom and the piece you write ends up being boring, is it a success? Hmmm.

The sinister elements of the poem seemed to contrast with the monotony. I didn’t find the poem boring, but was slightly confused by the form. S2 abandons all pretence at poetic stricture/structure and becomes out and out prose. It challenged my perception of the piece as a poem at that point.

I find the content unsatisfactory. There seems to be too much information. As others, I’d appreciate some subtlety, particularly in the presentation of the sinister elements.

Not a cup of tea for me

og

John, I feel your pain. Here's a description of my favourite Dilbert cartoon. (Can't find a link for you.)

Dilbert’s pointy haired boss tells him that he’s decided that people aren’t his most valuable resource. Dilbert, looking surprised, asks where people do fit as a priority. His boss replies “Eighth, right after carbon paper.”

Ring a bell?

Cheers

David

P.S. I quite like this as it is.

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