William Carlos Williams: The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

I know. Late again. Bahhh. Was busy multivariabling last night, but I probably could've done this at some other point in the day.



So in my late desperation this morning (in which I should be studying for that same multivariable) I flipped open John Green's The Fault in Our Stars with the intention of finding this poem, but ending up going too far and just reading the ending which was making me extremely sad. For those of you have read it (I think you should if you haven't, although I disagree with Isaac's sentiments on love, and his opinions annoy me a bit now) I'd say it was one of the sad parts with Hazel and her parents. Bad idea to read, I haven't seen my mother in months and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to see her this summer. (My folks moved to Arizona, I'm going back to my hometown outside of Buffalo. This stupid summer coming up.) This is a poem the Hazel says at one point to try and distract Gus, because it is a poem she remembers, although all she says on it is, "Williams was a doctor. It seemed to me like a doctor's poem." She's a little bit busy at this point in the book, so I'll excuse her for not going on a long rambling spiel about it. When I was looking it up I thought it had been an ee cummings poem, but I guess not.



I think it's simplicity that really makes this poem stand out. In trying to remove the formatting after copy/pasting it in this post it all turned into one singular line of text, yet it doesn't feel any less than a full poem.


That, and it's really vibrant, I think. A weird word to use on a poem, but the red wheelbarrow and the white chickens really stand out. Those two lines really contribute to the imagery, but I think it's the "glazed with rain water" that really seals the deal. Now that it's raining here a lot, I'm used to that thin layer of water that covers the benches and things after it's rained. "Glazed" is a good way for Williams to put it.

Why does so much depend on this red wheelbarrow? A lot depends on all the little things in our lives. Sam left his laptop in the lounge late at night a couple of days ago, so I took it and returned it to him on academic side the next day. He hadn't even noticed it was missing which surprised me, because my laptop takes up the dead center of my desk, which, at the end of the room by the window, is kind of unavoidable. If it weren't there and it should be I'd be freaking out. I'm stupid enough to have gotten myself locked out of the room a few times this year, except by now Emily is smart enough to not lock the door even when she's leaving if my keys are sitting on my desk. During our CS Midterm Adam was just starting to get sick and was dying with his nose running, sitting next to me during the exam, but I was able to help him out a little bit with some of the tissues in my purse. Adam, in his own right, can use his phone to access his desktop, submit our CS project, and code in C. (He has an iPhone though... Android all the way haha).

So while I think being materialistic is pretty bad, we have to acknowledge that sometimes it's the little objects in our lives that get us through. The red rain soaked wheelbarrow, so that we may feed our white chickens. I think I'll wear one of my flower hair berets today. They're pretty, and they kind of make me happy to wear. I've been complimented on them, so I guess other people do too.

It's always the little things.

I'm going to be late to Spanish,

-Val