Still Standing… ( after years in prison, and a forty minute wait at the pharmacy)

Summary

The text is a poignant reflection on the experience of feeling unnoticed and dehumanized, akin to an object, while standing in a pharmacy after years of imprisonment, juxtaposing the cold indifference of society with the individual's resilient humanity.

Abstract

The poem "Still Standing…" captures the emotional landscape of an individual who, after enduring years in prison, finds themselves waiting in a pharmacy, enveloped by the cacophony of everyday life. The protagonist stands unacknowledged, yearning for human connection and recognition amidst the bustling noise of routine. Despite their invisibility, the speaker's silent persistence eventually disrupts the surrounding commotion, prompting a reluctant acknowledgment of their presence. The narrative underscores the struggle for humanity in an environment that reduces individuals to mere objects, and the profound impact of a simple act of recognition.

Opinions

The author conveys a sense of dehumanization, as the protagonist is initially disregarded and treated as an "it" rather than a person.
There is a palpable frustration with the lack of empathy and recognition in modern society, particularly in impersonal spaces like a pharmacy.
The poem suggests that silence and stillness can be powerful tools for asserting one's presence and humanity in the face of societal indifference.
The narrative implies that recognition and acknowledgment from others are crucial for an individual's sense of self and humanity.
The text criticizes the desensitization of people to the presence and struggles of others, highlighting the importance of compassion and human connection.
The author seems to advocate for a more mindful approach to our interactions with strangers, emphasizing the value of each person's humanity.

Still Standing… ( after years in prison, and a forty minute wait at the pharmacy)

I stand On this concrete floor, Within these concrete walls, Underneath this concrete ceiling, Behind this iron apron Of bars

I stand Waiting, breathing, Expecting to be noticed, Desiring to be recognized, Hoping to be addressed As human

I stand Listening to the hustle bustle Of routine, Of other humans Caught in the act Of their daily grind, Caught in the act Of making noise

Adding it to other human noise And to the world’s noise

I stand Unnoticed Unrecognized Unaddressed As human As less than human, I am an it

I stand Quietly, Patiently, Tolerantly, Unmoving, unwavering, And slowly my quiet, My silence, My still standing Interrupts their noise

I stand Stifling them in their routine Slowing them like the Tin Man in his rust And with a squeak, They tilt their heads Toward one another, craning, Straining above their noise and ask “What is it?”

I stand And they stop, Relinquishing their noise To the silence, To the non-noise caused by the non-human, Drawn to it, they finally, reluctantly, But with recognition ask “May I help you?”

***