Analysis of A Calendar Page Torn
The chest torn open, the breast on fire.
It is a choice of days we make.
Days when only the vivid world comes to the eye –
And eventually –
Through the soul and onto the face.
That state of beingness where
The shooter & his target are one.
(Now I come to rest on coral
And deeply do I sink in.
Then as profoundly I am expelled
And as mist am carried over the sea
To light upon a cloud
Or the wing of a dove
Or perhaps
To be inhaled
Into another soul
Such as yours.)
Scheme | ABCDEFGHIJDKLMNOP |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 0111001110 11011111 111001011101 001000 10101001 11111 01011011 11111110 0101110 110101101 0111101001 110101 101101 101 1101 010101 111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 454 |
Words | 99 |
Sentences | 7 |
Stanzas | 1 |
Stanza Lengths | 17 |
Lines Amount | 17 |
Letters per line (avg) | 21 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 356 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 98 |
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Submitted on June 03, 2012
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 29 sec read
- 1 View
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"A Calendar Page Torn" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/64124/a-calendar-page-torn>.
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