Poem Analysis HELP

Discussion in 'Community Discussion' started by ZachLaffron, Mar 9, 2011.

  1. ZachLaffron macrumors newbie

    Joined:
    Mar 9, 2011
    #1
    The poem is as follows:

    Outside my window an English spring was
    summoning home its birds and a week-long fog
    was tattering into wisps and rags and at last
    I could see the railings when I looked out.

    I was a child in a north-facing bedroom in
    a strange country. I lay awake listening to
    quarreling and taffeta creaking and the clattering
    of queens and aces on the inlaid card table.

    I played a game: I hid my face in the pillow
    and put my arms around it until they thickened.
    Then I was following the thaw northward and the air
    was blond with frost and sunshine and below me

    was only water and the shadow of flight in it
    and the shape of wings under it, and in the hours
    before morning I would be drawn down and drawn
    down and there would be no ground under me

    and no safe landing in the dawn breaking on
    a room with sharp corners and surfaces on which
    the red-jacketed and cruel-eyed fractions of chance
    lay scattered where the players had abandoned them.

    Later on I would get up and go to school in
    the scalded light which fog leaves behind it;
    and pray for the King in chapel and feel dumbly for
    the archangels trapped in their granite hosannas.

    Have to admit, seems like an interesting piece of work by Ms. Boland, but I am having trouble with "TPCASTT"-ing this poem. Any help? (TPCASTT = Title, Paraphrase, Connotation, attitude, Shifts, Title, Theme).



    THANKS!
     
  2. Melrose Suspended

    Melrose

    Joined:
    Dec 12, 2007
    #2
    I don't mean to sound flippant, but what's wrong with just liking a poem just because you like it? :confused:

    On point: Sorry, I'm no good at analyzing things like that.
     

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