Description: Hah! This was actually a response to a challenge. A friend asked, "Why can't you write about something ordinary, like a goldfish?" Well, I don't know if he will approve, but here is my response. :) I felt that it's really a bit superficial, but what the heck.
In her goldfish bowl
She arcs her back
And diligently, industriously
Pushes through the sometimes tepid,
For the sweet, crystal shallows.
Yet eyes outside
Mark her weave,
So weighty and not an inch to move.
She labours simply to breathe.
How she once loved to glide:
Gold and silver flashes,
Skipping against the tide
To sleep safe in weeping rushes.
When night's silver veil fades
Into the sparkling sheen.
There she zig-zags a parade
To seek, to kiss the deeper green.
Treading hard to break the surface,
She murmurs, barely a gasp.
Her tears unnoticed in the sea,
For a time of flashing brilliance;
And the reeds, once her safety,
Only drag heavily on mottled scales.
And the deeper green never found
In her goldfish bowl; her jail.
ohh this is so sad. a fish trapped within her fishbowl only to breathe the fresh waters of the deepblue/green ocean. Touching little tale. I say that you have met your friends challenge and turned it into a fine piece.
Treading hard to break the surface, She murmurs, barely a gasp. Her tears unnoticed in the sea, For a time of flashing brilliance; And the reeds, once her safety, Only drag heavily on mottled scales. And the deeper green never found In her goldfish bowl; her jail
This part has got to be the saddest thing I have yet to read. Sure its about a goldfish, but still its touching. To be cornered by one circular wall and below me is the a false sea with weeds and maybe a little castle or Posiedon's powerful staff and a figure of him sitting on the tide. This is depressingly good and beautiful. I applaud you for wetting my eyes with a tale of a goldfish and the dream of freedom. Thank you.
Hey this is pretty good stuff! It is really sad though! I have always been one to feel bad for the goldfish that is in that small bowl all alone! I mean really, what kind of existance is that anyway? No companionship, no excitement, no nothing! The only thing it has to look forward to is being flushed down the toilet when it dies! The poor thing! You did a good job capturing the life of the goldfish and how it longs to be free and now a prisoner in a bowl! Nice poem! Take care!
i had a guppy once...it died because the wind blew so hard in my window. it lived for about 2 months all by itself...he's name was, Snoop Dog. and then...my other guppy died the same as how snoop dog died. her name was, coco. she died and i couldn't find her body. i thought of putting them together in the same bowl...but i didn't! i thought it would be too hard to clean the fish bowl. and now,,,it's all my fault! they're still haunting me! such an great poem though.
"How she once loved to glide: Gold and silver flashes, Skipping against the tide To sleep safe in weeping rushes." this part, i felt really bad.' yup..i could still remember! love your rhymes...i seriously have a thing for rhymes. they just inspire me!
You've done a great job at helping us identify with a goldfish, which I suppose isn't an easy task.
"Pushes through the sometimes tepid, Sometimes brine; Always wishing For the sweet, crystal shallows."
This set the tone for the whole piece and it did it very well. As humans, we might not notice the change of a few degrees in water temperauture, but a fish certainly would. In these few words, you capture both the reality of her world and the sadness of her desires.
One minor typo: When night's sliver veil fades I think should be silver.
How she once loved to glide: Gold and silver flashes, Skipping against the tide To sleep safe in weeping rushes. When night's sliver veil fades Into the sparkling sheen. There she zig-zags a parade To seek, to kiss the deeper green.
Suck me into the deep shades of longing… yes this is a very basic “topic”… but you painted the picture with very heavy strokes! Being in Jail for the Purpose of “breathing” yes very basic…. But the “display” element.. (like I am here for your amusement… ) was a point that came across to me very subtle… and the way that I like to twist things all up in my mind,,, I was also thinking “gender”. You know, like the little house wife in her pretty heals dusting the confines of her suburban castle… but perhaps I am going way off the mark here. Thanks for sharing… It’s nice finally reading some of your work again!
WOW! Life in a goldfish bowl, but whose life? Yours? Mine? The goldfish's? No, everyone's life. This is spectacular, I could lavish praise endlessly, but we're supposed to restrain ourselves and offer insightful and sometimes helpful comments.
I loved it! Oops there I go ,again! In the bowl, the goldfish, symbolic of us all, works to stay alive, leading a pleasure-less life. It has too many boundaries, all-confining limits, and an un-natural environment. Pity the poor fish! Outside the bowl, she was free to venture wherever her heart would take her, especially to the "deeper green". Could this, on the human plain, mean wealth and riches? More importantly she is a free spirit, free to grow, free to move to better waters, free to dive to the "deeper green". Inside the bowl again: She "gasps" " murmurs" unheard, cries "tears" unseen, is sickly "mottled", and ultimately she is in "jail". Oh, the confines of human life, so alike to those of a "goldfish bowl". I like the separation of stanzas. Should it be "briney", the adjective form?
"Her tears unnoticed in the sea, For a time of flashing brilliance"
So sad, a 'brilliance' trapped and brought to tears.
I think this is complete, and just about perfect. At least this faded mind find no flaws. I simply love this and will FAV it.
Hey, nice work on this one. The texture of the language really makes this poem. Let me just pick out a couple of things for you:
And diligently, industriously Pushes through the sometimes tepid, Sometimes briney;
At first, I thought, 'Sometimes tepid, sometimes briney what?', but then I read it again and realised that it really works just the way it is. Very interesting and unusual use of language here, and now I'm reading it again, I like it even more.
The whole of that second stanza is just georgeous. I love To sleep safe in weeping rushes and When night's silver veil fades such rich use of words.
And the last three lines are great. I love the way you end with a rhyme, it not only gives the poem a sense of closure, but also hammers that final point home.
Ok, so the basic idea may not win any prizes for originality, but that's inevitable, there are only so many things you can write about out there, and 99.9% of them have already been done. With that in mind, it's not what you write about, but how you write it that counts, and this is a great illustration of that. Everything is so rich and textured that you can just feel it. Really nice work TD :D