Warning: When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple

Warning is a poem mostly about non-conformism and age, with the final stanza intersecting these themes. For the latter theme, we see that being young seems to require adherence to numerous social mores (like having friends over, not swearing in the streets, etc., etc.), but that being old gives one something of a blank check in being an annoyance, terrible, or simply unconventional. For the former theme, we see our narrator proclaiming her desire to do these variously unconventional, terrible, or annoying things. These themes come together in the end when our narrator asks: “But maybe I ought to practice a little now?” In this, she implies that maybe acting old is something she can should do now, if only to ironically create a new social fabric that warns those around her of the potentiality of eventually going off the deep end. I cannot say I am overly enthusiastic about the message, or seeming message, of the poem, for I do not think it is right simply to throw off all boundaries or rules, especially in regard to some things which she mentions within the poem (like picking others people’s flowers or puling alarms willy-nilly, in what I presume to be public places). My skepticism of the main idea behind the work is what makes it 4 stars for me, if not 3–indeed, if valued for theme alone, the poem isn’t altogether great (by which I mean the poem could have conceivably been considered worthy of only a single star). I did like the imagery, though, and, in especial, the first lines, which read:

“When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.”

It immediately evokes the themes of the work whilst giving it a tinge of inanity (who cares if one wears a different or non-matching colors, after all). This inanity is sometimes thrown off (not being a good role model for children, taking flowers from other people’s gardens, pulling alarms in public places, etc., etc.), but, as my criticism of the poem mainly revolves around the inanity being thrown off (around someone lacking the responsibility to act properly in front of children, to not cause alarm in numerous people for no reason, to not take from others, and so on), one can possibly guess I consider these moments rather a detriment to the work as a whole than otherwise. Perchance I took the poem too seriously–that is, of course, a possibility–or, perchance, I did not. Jenny Joseph died in 2018, having reached a ripe old age of 85. At some item between having written this poem and die, she recorded a verbal interpretation, which can be found here : hypertext transfer protocol : //www.youtube.com/watch ? v=8cACb …. It is unnecessary for use of the poem, but it is a reasonably well way of experiencing it ; in especial, her mannerisms and stress are illuminating.is a poem largely about non-conformism and age, with the final stanza intersecting these themes. For the latter composition, we see that being young seems to require attachment to numerous social mores ( like having friends over, not swearing in the streets, etc., etc. ), but that being old gives one something of a lacuna check in being an annoyance, atrocious, or merely unconventional. For the former theme, we see our narrator proclaiming her desire to do these variously unconventional, awful, or annoying things. These themes come together in the end when our narrator asks : “ But possibly I ought to practice a short now ? ” In this, she implies that possibly acting old is something she can should do now, if only to ironically create a new social framework that warns those around her of the capability of finally going off the deep end. I can not say I am excessively enthusiastic about the message, or seeming message, of the poem, for I do not think it is right just to throw off all boundaries or rules, specially in attentiveness to some things which she mentions within the poem ( like picking others people ‘s flowers or puling alarms willy-nilly, in what I presume to be public places ). My incredulity of the independent theme behind the knead is what makes it 4 stars for me, if not 3 — indeed, if valued for theme alone, the poem is n’t raw bang-up ( by which I mean the poem could have conceivably been considered desirable of only a one ace ). I did like the imagination, though, and, in especial, the first lines, which read : It immediately evokes the themes of the work whilst giving it a undertone of inanity ( who cares if one wears a different or non-matching colors, after all ). This inanity is sometimes thrown off ( not being a good character model for children, taking flowers from other people ‘s gardens, pulling alarms in public places, etc., etc. ), but, as my criticism of the poem chiefly revolves around the inanity being thrown off ( around person lacking the duty to act by rights in front of children, to not cause alarm in numerous people for no argue, to not take from others, and so on ), one can possibly guess I consider these moments preferably a detriment to the exercise as a whole than otherwise. perchance I took the poem excessively badly — that is, of course, a possibility — or, perchance, I did not.