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Glass Enclosure

A decommissioned body
is enclosed
in glass.
Friends examine
how close the resemblance
of was to is,
comparing notes,
and pointing fingers
to petty discrepancies,
as if it were
a document examined
for fidelity.
queue up to see
the glass enclosure,
to check how worn out the life
displayed. Perhaps the signs
will be self-explanatory.
Around it,
dissonant voices
mingle with the yellow light
cast on its surface,
where both noise and silence

26 Jan 07

Rated 8.5 (8.5) by 4 users.
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 — ducktape

Thanks, ducktape.
 — JoelJosol

maybe the concept breaks with "noise of life", for me, since all the images have been expressed in a realm of the visual. and i'd expect some image, then, of "visual noise", like, maybe the flashes of light off the rolexes or diamonds of the mourners.

one way to bring this off though, as you have it, it to introduce the conceit of "noisy gawkers" with a "virtual noise"...

"crashings of visitors,
the noise of life mingles
with neon light,
glass reflecting noise
and silence and kiss."

or better.
 — mikebauer

Mike, I know what you mean. I edited that line with "dissonance of voices".
 — JoelJosol

Nice work. I really like L11-12.

In the last stanza consider a stronger phrasing:
Dissonant voices mingle
with the yellow light
cast around its surface...
 — rocket

Oops, I mistakenly moved "around" to the last line of my comment, but you get the idea.
 — rocket

Rocket, you're right. Verb should be more aggressive.
 — JoelJosol

Wow ... jus perfect.
 — trochee

try changing the title - "transparent" and "glass" are almost redundant, and give no fresh image to the reader
 — guy_fawkes

OK, I have changed it.
 — JoelJosol

Ooh, very nice.  Is this something like dead saints, dead kings and queens?  I've never seen anyone in a glass case.  Noise and silence kissed - love that line and the 'was to is."  (wink-of course I like that!)
 — Isabelle5

Isabelle, I actually wrote it with a mentor who died last year in mind.
 — JoelJosol

Edited 'kissed' to 'kiss' of L24.
 — JoelJosol

I can see and feel what you're going for, but you've left me at the boarding gate.  We never get the chance to get on your plane.  What else is going on.  What do you smell?  Is their a funeral caretaker/mortician to describe, what is the mood, is there music playing?  Was the old aunt behind you wearing Wind Song?  Come on, this is a dick-tease--give the reader more and you'll really have something here.
 — aforbing

aforbing, I'll see if I can sustain the story of the poem. I'll be back.
 — JoelJosol