An Exercise in Poetic Analysis

In order to read and interpret the Written Torah skillfully, one must have a sense of appreciation for nuance in literature in general. I enjoyed the imagery and flow of the following anonymously composed poem, "The Door", so I thought I would share it with the readership to elicit their reactions and responses. It can serve as a nice exercise in the analysis of literature in terms of both form and substance. Please consider the following questions:

1) What descriptive elements, metaphors, etc., of the poem, if any, strike you as especially compelling? What aspects do you find weaker?

2) What stylistic features of the poem stand out? Are any of the turns of phrase particularly smooth? Are any of the expressions too cumbersome? Is the style even throughout, or does it change at certain points? What do you think the motive of the author is in shaping the poem the way it is?

3) Overall, what would you say is the essential message of the work? What is it about the poem that determined your impression of its purpose?

I will chime in with my own musings later...For now, here is the poem:

THE DOOR

The door was ajar

Gleam of freedom’s seductive smile

Wrapped like tiny fingers around its edge;

So he left,

Carried on the feet of a first night ballerina

Gracefully buckling under adrenaline’s weight;

Tiptoeing around the ignorant snores

Of a poorly paid watchman

And back to his very own Waldorf Astorian hovel

Perched gloriously amidst beer cans and metal detectors.

The surprised arms of the girl of his dreams greeted him

Hovering about him so as not to break him

Tantalizing him with their almost warmth,

Her vision still confounded by a misty bewilderment

-Because, after all, what was he doing there?

His boss on the other hand patently unfazed

For they all knew it was a mistake

And he’d one day return to join them.

So he rested,

Satisfaction bathing him like the cool massage

Of a million sprinkler kisses

Consoling victims of summer sun’s piracy.

Alas, he should have realized

That the coveted award of solace

Was not to be so easily conferred;

For then the nauseating ebb and flow

Of a shrill familiar battle cry descended,

Desecrating his moment with self-righteous blasphemy;

Cheap gyrating lights of a hellish disco invading paradise

Suffocated him with their insistence.

So he ran,

Ruthlessly dragging iron limb by iron limb

Like parents of a stubborn little child who just won’t move;

Olympic muscles straining as if to race past themselves,

A silent prayer tossed heavenward

Beseeching Father Time for some small respite -

But his steely sleek competitor was unimpressed,

And with the cockiness of an amateur brush

Clumsily plumbed the palette of his misery;

A bright crimson mosaic now taking shape

On the crumbling asphalt canvas,

Concrete soaking in every hue of aspiration,

Life wriggling to wrest itself from the grasp

Of desperation decomposed.

It was all because of the door

Its accidental sliver of sunlight and shadow

Coaxing him with destiny’s charm;

It was all because of the door

Waving motionlessly, impossible to let alone

Like a sore you can’t help irritating just to feel the pain

Or an eclipse you stare at stupidly against the teacher's orders;

It was all because of the door

Rattling off promises of godforsaken blessing

Like a used car salesman who knows the truth;

It was all because of the door

Rusty gate leading to a garden of regrets

Portal to what could have been;

It was all because of the door

Extravagant prelude to a premature conclusion

Memorable introduction to a forgotten litany;

It was all because of the door,

Leading an ambitious actor

Decked out in raiment of oblivious glamour

To his final curtain call;

Yes, it was all because of the door -

So he shut it.