In absence of the mirrors
the aged librarian still
can see himself as shadows
dancing, as an apparition
in his secret catalogue of books
most toxic.
His exile to the library
has never been
a virtue but a shameless choice
a sacrifice of youth
a trauma only found in texts.
The library is not his prison
but a thistled garden
with a picket fence
where only stifled sounds can tell him
of the clamor in the world outside.
The Phenomenon of the library
Joseph Kosuth
I am a bit late to the party with Helen at toads. I have used some of the words from the list in this strange glimpse from the library.
Also adding to dVerse where Laura asks us to writa about madness.
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September 11, 2019
Björn Rudbergs writings 
Oooh…. “where only stifled sounds can tell him of the clamor in the world outside.”
ah ha! library as asylum – nice one Bjorn” a thistled garden
with a picket fence
where only stifled sounds can tell him
of the clamor in the world outside.”
Books are a safe, “padded” acceptable alternative for living. I appreciate where your mind goes, Bjorn.
Losing myself in a book is a great escape. Your poetry reinforces everything wonderful about reading .. about a library. Thank you.
I love this self imposed prison with the idea of stifled sounds hiding the clamour of outside. You use beautiful descriptions which made for a very enjoyable ‘read’ thank you
yes sanctuary in a known space … well protrayed!
“His exile to the library
has never been
a virtue but a shameless choice
a sacrifice of youth”
This one bites me, Bjorn. It has been my life history, especially in the area of my work and professional life. But also in my personal life.
If a door opened that appealed to my preferences and/or my qualifications I evaluated it as a possible opportunity.
Mrs. Jim came along unexpectantly but she sure was meant for me evidenced by our 46 years of being happily married.
As were the four professions, I enjoyed them all and each had a new door open from which I entered. None I left because I was unhappy or felt unwelcome. Provident hands and calculated education played big roles.
..
I love the picture you chose and the final stanza is a most fabulous conclusion to the poem as a whole.