I Sat Down

[Mr. Sunshine]

Yesterday I came home from work;
It was like any other day
Except that I sat down.

I unbuttoned my shirt and took off my shoes.
I looked down at the floor.
And saw marks in the wood from many shoes.
Some were mine,
Some were from those who had lived here before me.
An old floor.
My old feet.

Sunlight slipped between the curtains
And landed on the floor.
It offered me one last chance,
But I ignored it
Only noticing enough to tell you about it now.

I sat down yesterday.
I finally just sat down.

[Manna]

I like this a lot, though I think it could do without the framing device. What I get from this is a feeling of connection with times. Your shoe-marks and others' occupying a neighborly space on the floor. And the sunshine coming through the window --> because of what happened in the previous stanza, I felt an implied idea about how the sunlight comes through there everyday, and how it had hit that space for, approximately, ever. And these lines:

But I ignored it
Only noticing enough to tell you about it now.

I think are important. It says that you know you can't be in that mindset to feel that connected to time all the time.

[lizzytysh]

I was curious about the sunlight offering you one last chance, and wondered if instead of sitting down, you bypassed the chance to lie down in the sunshine.

For me, your poem really conveys the day-to-day nature of life... subtle differences between the days, but basically the same, with emphasis on the working and resting cycle.


~ Lizzy

[Red Poppy]

Good idea but the Carver approach doesn't quite work, in my opinion.

[Mr. Sunshine]

Thank you all for your feedback. I'm always interested in ways I can improve my writing.

Manna - You are correct as to the implication of the sunlight. I've been so tired lately. The "one last chance" was intended for two points: (1) It is after work so it is late in the day as the sun is quite physically setting on this particular day; (2) It has been shining for years as I mark time with my shoes and the shoes of those who were here before. So it is late in the day and I have run out of time, and I only notice enough to point it out but not to necessarily care anymore. This time I sat down and stopped fighting it.

In an earlier version I had a phrase that was intended to reverse the concept of "standing on the shoulders of giants", but it didn't come together.

Quite depressing I know.

Thank you for the feedback on the final "framing", which in retrospect is unneeded.

Lizzytysh - You were certainly on the right track as you see in my thoughts.

Red Poppy - I guess you're just not a minimalist, I assume that is the reference you mean. Then again, perhaps you just didn't like my poem which is quite reasonable as well.

Regards,

Rudolf

[Red Poppy]

No I like minimalism.
I felt the poem didn't quite carry the import which is there in the lines:

"(I)...saw marks in the wood from many shoes.
Some were mine,"

To me tthat's the key to the whole thing -in terms of a philosophy and in terms of image. Working out from there would help minimailise it even more and to greater effect.
I believe you could well drop the line that follows:

"Some were from those who had lived here before me."

It goes without saying, in fact I think it goes better without saying.

When I mentioned Carver I was talking about two things:
the minimalist approach
but also
the ease with which he understates the "issue" at the centre of a work.

What I should have said was that I really like that central premise and I like the piece a lot but I think it would benefit from a greater understatement.

Good stuff and thanks for posting it.

[Byron]

Harvey Keitel in 'Smoke,' playing 'Auggie' doesn't miss the obvious. Taking a photograph at 8.00am each day from his shop's pavement catches the passing of life. It did/does/shall go on. Capturing the moment and grasping reality. The ordinary can be so much more than the sum of its parts. It makes us stop. It makes us think. Does it make us accept? Ah, there's the rub. Also, the characters are understated and greater because of it. Less can be so much more.