Analysis of Last Week's New Black
The world seemed quiet, as if holding its breath,
seven days had passed already and there had
still been no violence of any kind to touch
the hearts of humanity with sorrow's wings.
Each new dawn held a sense of anticipation,
a negative aspect if you wish to view it that way,
it was like waiting for a balloon to pop,
people whispered notes of concern to neighbours,
no one knew how to behave now, it was surreal
how everyone glanced around, waiting for something,
anything to break the spell that had captured society.
Radio stations reported happy events on the hour,
television shows rearranged their programming
to fit into the atmosphere of pleasantry,
comedy shows no longer used slap-stick humour,
for that was considered to be last week's new black
and I just stared at the cracks that appeared
to be widening though no one else could see it.
There was no passion anymore, no spontaneity,
no risk at all to keep us in the groove,
I wondered if this really was the right way forward
as another false laugh bounced in through the window.
Perhaps this was our demise, and some other intelligence
would rise from the complacency we were showing,
or maybe some other race, not of this world,
had slipped past our defences and subdued us all,
I really do not know, but one thing I do know,
life is dull, there is nothing to push us forward anymore,
we're deflated shadows now of what we once were,
and though violent actions were frowned upon,
they were an integral part of our nature to survive
in a place where reality is kill or be killed
inside a universe where random choices flick normality.
Scheme | XXXA XXXAXBC DBCDXXX CXXE XBXXEXDXXXC |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 01110111011 10111010011 111100110111 0110100111 11110110010 0100111111111 11110100111 1010110111 111110111101 11010110110 10110111100100 10101010011010 100101110 11010101100 10011101111 111010111111 0111101101 111001111111 111100110100 1111111001 1101110101110 101011101010 0111100101100100 111001001010 11011011111 11110100111 110111111111 11111101111001 10101111110 01100100101 101100111010101 00111011111 01010110101100 |
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 1,568 |
Words | 287 |
Sentences | 6 |
Stanzas | 5 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 7, 7, 4, 11 |
Lines Amount | 33 |
Letters per line (avg) | 39 |
Words per line (avg) | 9 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 256 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 57 |
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Submitted on August 13, 2010
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:27 min read
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"Last Week's New Black" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/76419/last-week%27s-new-black>.
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