I-The Memory of Strawberry Fields
I
Life was born so life dies
There's the memory of life in graveyards
and the murmur of life in roses
If life eventually just ceases
all life is pointless by nature
What once existed in the green fields
in voids and shadows where the dead, hollow men do dwell,
only in graveyards of dust, and tombs of
forsaken saviors and dead gods
Buried in desolation, an emptiness
where the echo just remained silent
Down the hell we so willingly took,
through the world the damned left behind
Into solitary. My cries unheard
here, in the dark
But, to what reason
Disturbing the stillness in the aged universe
There is no point
Still, other dreams
dwell within these old eyes. Shall we follow?
Live, said the wind, exist, exist
from the spasm to the last breath
into blackness, shall we follow?
The conception of the child? Live, said the wind
There it is, happily contemplating
living without much threat, in time's wicked breath
death still seems so far with youth in these eyes
And, the wind cried, in response to
the youth and the struggle in one's history
where the shadows and light glow crossed. For the youth ends
with the thought of aging that is a thought
that comes to every child who is living and dying
And so we live, and here, in every reason now
walk along this empty world, into the catacombs
to look down into fallen kings
The King's dead, the King's rotting, alone
and the King was full of life, before death gently
pulled him through the night, quietly, quietly
Now rancid skin rots with death's dry perfume
And the dead are inside him, staring at his soul
then his eyes closed, and the king's grave was gone
Live, said the wind, for time someday kills all children
Live, live, live said the wind: for mankind
cannot bear very much reality
Life was born so life dies
What is alive and was alive
dwell in time's hands, which is always dying
Author notes
Part 1 of Burnt Norton, re-written by me.
A contest entry
- Best of 2007 by B Chandler.
1000 points, ended December 30, 2007, 6 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - your best work composed over the last twelve months by Lute.
600 points, ended January 9, 2008, 68 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - “Philosophy is the science which considers truth” by xbyebyebeauty.
386 points, ended January 11, 2008, 8 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - The love song of T. S. Eliot by Vernal.
1275 points, ended February 23, 2008, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - PreWrites Allowed enter quick!!! by Son Of The Ring.
450 points, ended January 3, 2008, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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i wanted ryming
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I'll Live!
Quite a sound of almost a chant of dying! A bit sad but you brought depth with the attention to the King!
Good Luck in the contest!
Tang
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Eliot! The Beatles! Brilliant stuff!
"The King's dead, the King's rotting, alone
and the King was full of life, before death gently
pulled him through the night, quietly, quietly"
Those three lines are stunning, excellent job!
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Commentary Critique
From an abstractor's point of view, the write stems from two and a half points- not the four that's to be expected. On that note as well, my opinion would be to break this up into three more small 'slices' to get a more if not an equally impressive impact. -
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Huh?
Hmmm,
This poem is broken up as T.S. Eliot wrote the first section of part I of the Four Quartets. *shrug*
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"What is alive and was alive
dwell in time's hands, which is always dying"
This was amazing,
but I need you to list its relevance to philosophy in your author notes.
Even if its slightly obvious just by reading the piece, I would still really appreciate it if you would specify.
This was gorgeous, good luck in the contest! -
Beautiful.
This is beautiful and highly artistic writing. I like your poem about as much as part 1 of T.S. Eliot's Burnt Norton, and your wind's words about life, youth and death seem to have as much meaning as Eliot's bird's words. I will have to read some of your completely original writing and see what it is like. ~Charles~
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great stuff all true... and some fantastic metphore used here merry crimbo and the best of luck in the up and comming contest (:
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content 8.1
vocabulary 12.26
accuracy 9
creativity 8.4
theme 8
originality 7
total--52.76. -
Are you ...
a Beatles fan? Just wondering about the relevance of Strawberry Fields to this poem?
Here:
in voids and shadows where the dead, hollow men do dwell, (why the archaic "do dwell"? Why not just "dwell")
Here:
And so we live, and here, in every reason now (I'd change reason to season)
Here:
to look down into fallen kings (look down on fallen kings)
Otherwise, you've done a credible job with this.
Thanks for entering and Happy New Year.
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Thank you.
I am indeed a fan of the Beatles. I find that the song, "Strawberry Fields Forever" expresses a theme of appreciating life in a world in which nothing really matters. The title, which substitutes Burnt Norton in Eliot's poetic masterpiece, represents the longing for youth, and the acknowledgment of youth, and life itself, being nothing more than a memory. Part I introduces that idea with a child who ages and watches his father die, *The 'King'. There is a radical shift of age, and thus understanding of life/death. Strawberry Fields is thus metaphorical for a time of youth and happiness, and also fertility.
In response to the other comments you made:
I used the words I used to fit the syllable count. *shrug*
Thank you for the comment and the contest.
Take care, and Happy New Year to you as well.
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Damn. This is...one of the best poems i've read on AP.
so many elements in here, so many passageways of meaning.
the naivete of the young, when the young start to grow up to fast and worry about dying [so life is pointless], etc, etc.
i could go on and on.
you're poetry is amazing.
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Oh wow, thank you.
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