Decent Essays
POEM ANALYSIS : "The Thought-Fox" is a poem about writing a poem, it explicates the nature of literary inspiration and literary creation. The action of the poem takes place at midnight where the poet is sitting alone at his desk accompanied only by the ticking of the clock. The image evoked is one of quiet and solitude where the poet is cut off from the world ready to be transported by his literary imagination. The poet 's imagination is like a presence which disturbs the stillness of the night, the stillness of things yet unknown, and is depicted as if creeping silently upon the poet evoking a sense of stealth: The night itself is of course a metaphor for the more intimate darkness of the poet 's imagination and creative inspiration that…show more content…
Alliteration is utilized to mime coherence. Though at first, the fox is agile, it staggers occasionally Between trees, and warily a lame Shadow lags by stump and in hollow Of a body that is bold to come At times, it appears like" a lame shadow ' endeavoring to pick up speed and accelerate towards the final goal. The term stump ' refers to the base of the tree that is incomplete without the tree-top. The stump ' at once functions as a invasive metaphor for the writer 's block. The poet has to make his creativity go beyond the stump ' and not leave his poetic capabilities stunted '. It ' is inthe hollow of a body that is "bold to come", yet to flourish and blossom. Across clearings, an eye, A widening deepening greenness, Brilliantly, concentratedly, Coming about its own business Across the clearings and the undergrowth, there is indeed "an eye". The "eye" standing for insight here. This insight is coupled with a widening and deepening "greenness",. The greenness symbolizing fertility and creation at once. Its business is that of its own, not one of after-thought, but that of impulse. Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed. .The poet thought process is filled with hot stink" of the fox, the heat of its passion. The thought-process is saturated now, and hence hot and humid. As the poem comes into place, the window is starless still. The
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