I wrote this in the exam hall yesterday to stave off death from boredom...
Long for Blue
Of all the horrors
Within this room:
Unseeing stares
And aching wrists;
The light’s the worst:
Yellow, heavy.
A sickly pallor falls
On all who wait
And long for blue
Skies and lunch.
Friday, May 20, 2005
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4 comments:
This poem shows great talent. It is clear that Clare spends too much time marking papers and preparing lessons, and that, as a result, she is driven to write poems about desklamps. Desklamps are not a common subject for poetry. However the poem provides a healthy reminder both of the desperate state of the modern, desk-bound teacher, and of the ingenious life that is lead by said desklamps, as previously demonstrated by PIXAR in an ingenious demonstration of maternal love on the big screen some years ago now. The poem ends with a sense of yearning, both for natural light (the artificial light becomes worse than darkness by penetrating us with its yellow glare), and for the salvation through Christ which it clearly symbolises.
Now I dont know if I will be asked for my name at all, so I am going to tell you now. It is 'Sherv'.
by 'lead' I meant 'led'
It has become apparent that the poem is actually supposed to be about exam halls. In the light of this I submit that, whilst it was written in an exam hall, it is actually a poem about desklamps. This is clear from the white space between lines 7 and 8.
I like this poem.
Although, this does not reflect my experience of exams. I find leaving half-way through helps.
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