Sally,
Glad that you have found something in it and thanks for passing that on,
along with some reservations. I suppose Tim is an anxious person -he feels
anxious about the world and his place in it- and some of his anxiety about
the world is contained ( and hence made manageable through the containment
of violent people like John). Then there is the self-containment you
mentioned. However John is uncontained in his own right (even more so than
Tim) and seeks containment and in the poem achieves this in a dysfunctional
way rather than some of the more functional routes employed by the rest of
the population, such as the various institutions of work. When I wrote the
poem I wondered if the existence of prisons for many people is profoundly
reassuring, over and above a slight lessening of the number of dangerous
people on the streets, by providing a walling off of aspects of existence
that they would rather not deal with.
Now you are right that: "The DT's had gone
> >and he'd only hurt his hand when he lashed out." isn't satisfactory. I
guess what I was hoping to do in this line was suggest that John's life had
indeed become less out of control as a result of his imprisonment - and that
at some level John appreciated this - if only because it provided a degree
of control that he was not able to bring about for himself. Any thoughts on
how that might be clarified? If not it doesn't matter. DT's is short for
Delirium Tremens and suggests a fairly heavy withdrawal from alcohol which
in turn suggests that among other things this fellow was drinking far too
much (i.e. also out of control) and "only hurt his hand... " suggests that
he hit people, possibly loved people, without any ability to control himself
,to the extent that it seemed better just to be locked up.
Colin
----- Original Message -----
From: "Sally James" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Wednesday, July 07, 2004 9:08 PM
Subject: Re: newsub/containment
> This is a very powerful poem about prison life Colin and paints a very
> visual picture in my minds eye. For me it has the mixture of power and
> gentleness "who wept were tears bounced sound and would not soften". This
is
> very striking as is "men as hard and tattooed as snakes" The title
> Containment has the double meaning to me of not only Containment as in
> prison but in containment of the self "glad he hadn't blabbed on about his
> degree in astro physics and his year at Harward".
> I like all of this poem particular the last verse. Also the names of the
> charactres John and Tim. The tough image of John but the sadness as he
weeps
> and the gentle image of Tim who pads himself to appear more menacing but
> hadn't the strengh to open the door. I particularly like the last verse as
> it too conveys a type of sadness to me as Tim walks into the night.The
> magazine fluttering its pages but most significantly " and someone howled
> through an open window".
> Only things that puzzled me was "hadn't" the first word in the third
> verse.Also in verse number five the last line "The DT's had gone and he
only
> hurt his hand when he lashed out".
> Thanks for the read. Sally J
>
>
> >From: hui dewar <[log in to unmask]>
> >Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
> >To: [log in to unmask]
> >Subject: newsub/containment
> >Date: Wed, 7 Jul 2004 15:05:50 +0100
> >
> > Containment
> >
> >It was five o'clock, time for Tim
> >to escape Barlinnie, and so
> >he left him, prisoner John
> >who wept where white walls
> >bounced sound and would not soften.
> >
> >He walked on, glanced sideways
> >at lines of men as hard
> >and tattooed as snakes,
> >glad that he hadn't slipped up
> >on his first shift, blabbed on
> >about his degree in astrophysics
> >and his year at Harvard
> >-a job after all was a job-
> >
> >hadn't after breakfast wrapped cloth
> >round his arms to thicken them
> >beneath his shirt, that the others
> >with their bellies and their baldness
> >and naked arms that melted snow
> >hadn't heckled his newness. He heard
> >his key clunk in the third lock,
> >pushed with both hands till
> >his elbows cracked and hoped
> >that they weren't laughing on CCTV.
> >
> >He looked up and saw for the first time
> >sky-wires from point to point,
> >grounding all hope of moonlit flight,
> >passed beanstalk walls with primroses
> >spaced in boxes along the base
> >and came to the turn-style
> >barred to the ceiling
> >and the hand-scanner with a knob
> >for each web of his milk-white fingers.
> >
> >And the further he went
> >from Little John who'd called
> >him "Boss" and "Big Man",
> >the stranger it seemed that he'd said
> >"Life is better in prison", an odd view,
> >if true, but the place was predictable,
> >in its way was safe. The DT's had gone
> >and he'd only hurt his hand when he lashed out.
> >
> >John knew this from before
> >and so he'd held a knife to the throat
> >of the woman at the store
> >and claimed he'd done it,
> >wanting to get caught.
> >
> >Night had fallen
> >when Tim got his mobile back
> >from security and turned into streets
> >where a lamp flickered
> >on-off, on-off, and someone howled
> >through an open window and the wind
> >blew over the pages of a dried mag
> >and idle gangs under amber
> >and a billion stars in darkness,
> >watched him pass.
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >Colin
>
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