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Carousel
Seamus Heaney has a miniature
gramophone lodged in his throat.
You can listen to its music when
you read his lines. No explanation
has been given for this phenomenon.
I've often thought he was born with it,
and his parents, thinking his Adam's
apple was just large, never bothered
to delve inside or put their ears close,
letting their hearts dance to the sound
of a fiddle being played to the tune
of the troubles; a carousel of memory
never letting its needle go.
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Comment by: Meenyee - 2007-12-10 04:06
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| Aw i like how sweet this poem is, he can always play music whenever he wants to, but wouldn't it be annoying to have an actual gramophone stuck in your throat? Lol : P |
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Very nice imagery. A classic image of the gramophone, a basic "gadget" by today's standards unusually melded, figuratively, to the famous Seamus.
I think the final stanza is a little convoluted and I personally didn't like the way the stanza's were separated; it's just one continuous sentence. Having said that, this piece resonates with quality and I like Seamus Heaney too (an irrelevant insertion I'm sure!). |
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This was nicely done. Great imagery..a carousel of memory
never letting its needle go. You are one creative writer! |
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Comment by: precar - 2007-11-18 08:58
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| Like someone noted above, it reads like a story even though it's so short. Nice imagery in such few words. |
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| I can't help it. I just think this poem is so clever. It makes me smile. |
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