Soup student

Today, we are asked to write a poem in which we closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. The “surprise” ending to this James Wright poem is a good illustration of the effect. An abstract, philosophical kind of statement closing out a poem that is otherwise intensely focused on physical, sensory details.

…..

The classroom had a fresh scent that Spring.
Through wide open windows beckoned in youthful winds blew,
Washing away the fungal-fused damp of cold grey winter.
Outside, narcissi flavoured the air with a faint fragrance of honey,
Opportunity shone bright tulip yellow.

In straight lines stood the wet-clay-coloured wooden desks.
Ink stained, scarred, scratched and inscribed with the names of alumni,
Their cantilever lids bearing grains that ran like open veins,
Dragon claw deep ravines, rivers of learning, splinters on their banks,
They ran to the waterfall of mid-air, falling to the sea of polished red tiles at his feet.

In the cavernous Great Hall hung the gallery of recognition.
Enormous oil painted icons, framed in lustrous gilt stone.
Their eyes spoke of aspiration, reverence and cachet,
Draped in velvet cloaks of adoration, they surveyed all before them.
Their names, engraved, stamped and burnt into history, stole the air from the rooms.

Disappointment is a self-served sorry bowl of cold soup.

…..