MERRY CHRISTMAS

Christmas 1914 and the guns fall silent for a short time along the so-called Western Front. At five locations British and German soldiers play football.

Saturday, 8 December 2012

THE MAN IN THE TOP FLOOR FLAT


closed
the twenty-fourth door

for it was
the twenty-fourth

and now
he'd finally closed them all

closed one for each day
of the advent calendar

fixed to the door
of his fridge

inside of
which the light

had given up the ghost
long ago

and now
it was

the right time to think
of the future

to think
how different

things might be
but . . .

something moved
within his breast

the caged bird
flying . . .

and he looked again
at the doors

all of them
closed

identical rows
and stories
high


_____________________
There's another, much better poem, The Door by Miroslav Holub (or rather it's my translation of his poem) but you can find it in the blog searchbox if you so wish.

In my poem the fact that the man was closing the doors on the calendar instead of opening them as is customary is extremely important as is the fact that the next day will be Christmas Day. We may consider what might happen on the 25th day if the man is going to continue in the opposite direction to holy legend and modern tradition. And think what has brought him to this pass. It may be that he has too often faced closed doors. There is a lot more in the poem besides. But that is enough to be going on with.


6 comments:

  1. But how do we know that the light has gone out in the fridge if the door is closed (metaphorically speaking)

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  2. Pat, I thought you'd maybe say it's storeys and not stories but of course it has both meanings. A story behind every door on every storey. But the light has gone off or first is flickering on/off- of course you just know it.

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  3. I need to get my head round this Gwil.

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  4. The advent calendar was a metaphor for the place where he lived and as with people who live in flats he only saw closed doors, and so he was closing the doors on the calendar obviously having opened them first, as it was closed doors he was used to, and when he reached the last door, i.e his own door, he had the feeling he was in some way trapped like a bird, maybe a seasonal robin, a (red)breast in a rib(cage) or if you go deeper his own heart . . .

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