Reclusive

Summary

The provided content is a prose poem titled "Reclusive" by J.D. Harms, dated April 28, 2021, which personifies a room and reflects on the themes of confinement, transformation, and the passage of time.

Abstract

"Reclusive" is a poetic exploration of the relationship between a person and their living space, where the room takes on a life of its own. The poem evokes a sense of claustrophobia and transformation as the narrator describes being trapped in a room that seems to shift and change, with lines and lives blurring. The room is depicted as having a sexual manifestation, reminiscent of Harms' earlier work "Sentencing Room." The poem also touches on the idea that our surroundings can reflect our inner state, with the sparseness of the room mirroring the narrator's preference for simplicity and introspection. The narrative voice speaks of the room's smells, movements, and the passage of time in a way that suggests a living entity, challenging the reader's perception of inanimate space. The poem concludes with a note of caution, implying that the room, despite its familiarity, may not always be benevolent.

Opinions

The author, J.D. Harms, conveys a deep connection between personal identity and physical space, suggesting that rooms can mirror the complexity and depth of human thought and experience.
There is an underlying tension between the comfort of familiar surroundings and the potential for those same surroundings to become oppressive or even threatening.
The poem suggests that the narrator's room has a transformative effect on them, with the power to alter their perception and even their sense of self.
The mention of "ignorance of the law of the room" implies a subtle warning that one's environment may operate under its own set of rules, which can be unpredictable

28 April 2021 Wednesday Prose Poem: the rooms have us

Water turned down clock, beginning nightmares with “because I said so…”, open arrogance

and shifting lines and lives, finding my ninth one now or probably we’ve all lost count of how many times

I’ve been picked up off the floor, own muscles bitter strength, winding the room into configurative wonder and disgruntling style

smells linger way past the best expiry date, milk cruising down the counter, a trip to the sink

to whatever lives down there, smoothing out the wrinkles on the pipe, oozing into stunning Sunday rain or that

might have been yesterday, too hard to tell in any case, wounding just by the look

incredible terror, soft beginnings with crashing ends, and ignorance of the law of the room

doesn’t mean it’s on your side.

Prompt:

Around two decades ago, I wrote a poem titled “Sentencing Room” (I recently published the fourth episode in The Rebel Poets Society). As the quintessential starving artist, I wrote about a poet who’s room comes to life, begins to take on a sexual manifestation as he tries to get out of it. Truth is, I generally prefer emptier rooms. The rooms in my house are pretty sparse, mostly because I’d rather spend money on books than anything else…but our rooms may be that outward reflection of our heads (ain’t that why mama needs to make sure we clean them up?). To respond to this prompt, feature a room as subject. Make it alive. Tag me in it, and rock on, write on!