posted by Prior at 8/17/2006 09:50:00 AM
A billion tiny men . . . And yet the ink drops of each pen, differs. Twenty six letters is all, A cap a dot a comma, we all fall, Oblivious to the characters of our time. Not a one would match rhyme for rhyme Though we have the same breath Drink of the one rain, Under the singular blue sky. One language, Even if; one people, No match Watch it divide. Twenty six letters Match your; Billion tiny men. Prior Quigley
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Ruth,
Prior,
Thursday, August 17, 2006
A Billion Tiny Men
2 Comments:
I hesitate to comment on this poem mainly because it isn't "my" type of poetry and I don't understand it. My mind just can't seem to wrap around a lot of today's poetry. Can you explain this poem to me? If I knew what it's trying to say, maybe I could comment on the way it's written. Sorry, but I've been on vacation this past week and I think my brain still has jet lag.
By
Ruth, at 8/17/2006 04:23:00 PM
I'm sorry Ruth, it's not you. I may have not introduced the main character very well. I'm writing about the characters of our alphabet, that when compiled make up our language. The work displays how even if we display oneness we could never express it the same way. It's about the diversity of the words we use. There's even a hint of the division that words cause between people. As is foretelling in your response, "My mind just can't seem to wrap around a lot of today's poetry." I hope this helps. Still you may be right the poem may need more depth to be understood properly. Thanks Prior
By
Prior, at 8/18/2006 11:46:00 AM
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