There is nothing here in this castle

[heslopian]

There is nothing here in this castle.
The game room, the kitchen, the parlour, the hall,
each are furnished elaborately,
with mantles carved to look like vines,
deep armchairs of unblemished velvet,
and faded prints lining the walls,
but there is nothing here in this castle.

Step into the library. The arch windows
and rising shelves, wheeled ladders at rest;
you can feel it in the high ceiling,
the virgin spines of the myriad books,
the dust coverlet on the round table.
No one has ever lived here.

Enter then the nursery. A rocking horse
presides over toys too perfectly arranged,
a welcoming party of soldiers and dolls,
awaiting a guest who never arrives.
The sun slants through a window
and splashes on the skirting board.
This place has never known movement.

Now imagine my body, cultivated from a seed,
a burst of passion, long ago. My arteries
like rooms designed, the way my heart beats,
the shade of my eyes. The overwhelming
absence of a personality, a soul.

There is nothing here in this castle.

[billy]

There is nothing here in this castle.
The game room, the kitchen, the parlour, the hall,
each are furnished elaborately,
with banisters carved to look like vines,
deep armchairs of unblemished velvet,
and faded prints lining the walls,
but there is nothing here in this castle. good feeling of desolation/emptiness

Step into the library. The arch windows
and rising shelves, wheeled ladders at rest; i like this line because it lends to the size of room
you can feel it in the high ceiling,
the virgin spines of the myriad books,and this lends to desolation again.
the dust coverlet on the round table.
No one has ever lived here.

Enter then the nursery. A rocking horse
presides over toys too perfectly arranged,
a welcoming party of soldiers and dolls,
awaiting a guest who never arrives.
The sun slants through a window
and splashes on the skirting board.
This place has never known movement.

Now imagine my body, cultivated from a seed,
a burst of passion, long ago. My arteries
like rooms designed, the way my heart beats,
the shade of my eyes. The overwhelming absence of
a personality, a soul, some years down the line,
the construction complete, habitation on hold.

two nits;
The game room, the kitchen, the parlour, the hall,
each are furnished elaborately,
with banisters
are there stairs in the kitchen, parlour, games room, as well as in the hall?
would

for me the poem ends at soul, the last few words feel somehow tacked on in order to make some kind of quote (which detracts from the essence of the poem) which for me is about emptiness the feeling of an infinite emptiness in a person, one with no comebacks.

There is nothing here in this castle. when i say the poem ended on soul for me, i didn't include the last line which i think is perfect for closure within the poem.

the reiteration worked well for me (normally it doesn't) it draws out the emptiness in this instant. the last line a hook to take us back to the first.

all in all i think it an excellent right which with a very minor edit would be publishable jmo
thanks for the read jack

[heslopian]

The banisters aren't in every room. I was alluding to random pieces of furniture from the places mentioned. I'll see how I can make that more obvious. As for the ending, I added it in order to reinforce the comparison between the narrator and the castle, but I see what you mean, it doesn't add much. I think I'll delete it once I've finished this. Thanks for the feedback and kind words Billy.

---

How about "mantles" instead of "banisters"?

[billy]

mantles work much better as even kitchens in castles and large house had them, as did the main hall which was also called the banqueting room

[heslopian]

That was the idea Changed.