Analysis & Behind The Scenes
Prosaïc
Prosaïc is a meta-literary poem, a reflection on the act of writing itself, and above all on the constant tension between authenticity and external expectation. From the very title, the tone is set: what is labeled “prosaic” is not so much the style as the way writing is perceived—reduced to a form of functionality, almost utilitarian.
The first two lines establish a central paradox: “written in prose” yet “marked by somber lines.” The writing refuses to choose a clear side—prose or poetry—as if this formal hesitation mirrored a deeper one: that of the author, torn between what he should write and what he wants to write. The early question—“Why not write what others long to read?”—acts as both provocation and temptation. It crystallizes the conflict between sincere creation and adaptation to the audience’s desires.
The poem then deepens this fracture. Trading “authenticity” for “prosperous commerciality” is not presented as a cynical choice, but as a pragmatic one—almost reasonable. Yet the following line—“Finding balance… I think I don’t know how”—admits the failure of that reconciliation. Balance is not rejected; it simply remains out of reach.
The image of the “à l’eau de rose novel” marks a turning point. It evokes a form of writing perceived as artificial, saccharine, formulaic—and above all, ephemeral. The floral metaphor that follows is no coincidence: the flower of inspiration withers precisely because it has been fed by soil that was never its own. This is not a judgment on the genre, but an intimate realization—that this kind of writing does not take root in the author.
This refusal to judge others is, in fact, explicitly stated. The poem does not condemn the tastes of the public, nor those who adapt to them. The real question is internal: why this constant need to apologize? This diffuse sense of guilt reveals an invisible, almost social pressure, where the author feels indebted—bound to a form of creative politeness.
The final lines introduce a subtle yet essential rupture. The apologies are described as “just,” not in a moral sense, but “as a matter of protocol.”, filled with empty words. In other words, they are expected, standardized, almost administrative and, filled with empty as the line “where more has no other meaning than less” suggests.
Finally, the title of the poem is deliberately chosen to illustrate this very duality, which constantly rises in response to what I write—carrying a pejorative undertone tied to the decision to follow a non-conventional structure, regardless of the medium.
Prosaïc is therefore not a poem about how to write, but rather about the identity of the writer.
I hope you enjoyed this analysis. I’d be genuinely curious to read your thoughts, interpretations, and how it resonated with you. Feel free to share your perspective in the comments.
Peace & Bliss
Aaron.
This is brilliantly written. I think it’s hard sometimes to even tell which side of the coin you are writing on . There’s always going to be a sort of interdependence between author and audience. I often find myself wondering if my work will resonate with others and then battling with myself on whether I care If it does or doesn’t.