All Comments on 'Outside Looking In'

Leaves the rest blown away to sub atomic dust.

you'd think it might blot out my constant grey.

wash my grey life away.

thee heat - typo

i know because of the material, it is supposed to drag a little, but...

and i question the tight rhyme scheme

their special strength for anyone to see;

and all the village going on a spree,

apparel wonderful, looks full of glee –

whee! and tends to twee

i fived

I appreciate the art here, but I don't understand the captive in the tower. Or rather - I wish the captive in the tower were a clearer about her captivity and captor. If this is a social commentary, which I hope it is, then there is so much more that could be done with this to make it stronger -- whether the captor is the family guarding a young girl just because she is female, whether it is a tyrannical husband, or whether the captor is quite simply the divide between the rich neighborhoods and the poor.

Details: How is the washerwoman playing? Typo in second stanza lie's.

This is very well done, don't get me wrong. I just want more.

Don't agree with Harry Hill. I was left with the impression that this was unfinished. Desejo's comments are particularly telling and the strained rhyme needs work.It is like a work in progress but we need to be clearer why and where she is prisoner. The Sari says India but the cloth France.

The thought that an Indian washerwoman was washing lawn jarred a little. (Lawn is a French cloth - lawn being a misspelling of Leon or Laeon the town in France where it was invented )

Perhaps:

Below, life's course, in contours well-defined,

rolls ever past my eager, tired eyes –

in miniature I watch how it defies

the dirt and poverty, the heat, the flies –

all I've been left to feed my hungry mind.

futher out and muse his existence, TK U MLJ LV NV

...it's better to see the poem as a whole, rather than spend time dissecting it for its "poesie". And what I see here is pathos, pure and simple. Nicely handled!

From this high prison where forced to stay

in cold half-darkness above brilliant view

every known hue the seething life below

the greens and ochres, a sky shone blue

you'd think it might blot out my constant grey.

and bring a little warmth to my life