Don't tell me how it works, sir,
I like to watch
And be amazed at the display.
The inner workings, wiring, switches,
all, are unnecessary details.
Miracles deflated.
Don't explain the rainbow,
or sunshine,
or brain waves.
Child-like
in my comprehension
I want to smile
and clap my hands
at the wonder
of it all.
I remember this one. It brings to mind several memories and a cpl not so good ones. At Children's Hospital in St. Louis they have this magnificent huge display in a glass box that is taller than me and and probably 10 or 15 ft long. It sits right in the center of the entry foyer. It is hard to describe but it is all of these rails and chains and buckets and silver balls constantly moving up and down and across... you get the picture. People just stand there watching in awe, it is magnificent and your poem has always reminded me of that. I love this piece...
I like this piece. It's not only succinct, but extremely relatable, which I think makes it meaningful in some way to anyone who reads it. This, to me, is a mark of a good piece. :) I like the opening line, as it sets the theme for the whole piece, and I enjoy your use of line breaks, as they're somewhat atypical. Very nice.
Beautiful job, Emily! I can totally relate to this piece. It's usually better to just enjoy the simple pleasure of simple things rather than to try to figure out every detail (although curiosity is likewise an important trait.) A book I once read said something I really liked: I"n looking at something too closely, we often gain many details, but little understanding."
I recall this one. It is truly beautiful and sensational. I think we can all relate to times when there's things we view as miraculous because we don't understand: clear-cut analysis and explanation lessens the wonder. I remember the first time I ever took a plane. I couldn't understand how it stayed in the sky. I adore the clause: 'miracles deflated' because it is so succinct. The starting line, 'don't tell me how it works, sir,' is incredibly engaging, you just keep reading. You feel almost implicated due to the use of the second person. I adore these lines too: 'The inner workings, wiring, switches,/ all, are unnecessary details.' Yes, truly beautiful and sensational, at every reading. I love this poem.
I remember this piece, Emily. It's one of my favorites of yours. The childlike wonder in your lines is so beautiful. I think that we all need to hold onto that feeling for as long as we can in different aspects of life. The world around us is a marvelous work and a wonder. Sometimes, it ruins the magic to know the science of how it works instead of be able to appreciate the miracle of it.
Maybe it's two kinds of people thing, maybe those of us who explain do so because we can't just revel. I've heard this sentiment before...you describe its side of the coin well.
Ignorance is bliss, to sum it up correctly. Love the first line, it's captivating, mostly because of the use of "sir", I like that. It adds a sort of backslap of a glove to the poem, a sarcastic gesture that echoes through the rest, saying "you may think you are smart but I am happy!"
"I want to smile
and clap my hands
at the wonder
of it all"
Like life is putting on a play for the individual's enjoyment, interesting...
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..