Down here

[PrinceMyshkin]

i

Mid the tumult, the clatter and the geschrei,
one longs for rest.
But rest does not come.


ii

Sabbath in the grave is a long, long day.
There’s thunder and lightning and war overhead,
but it’s quiet
down here
among the dead.

[Hawkman]

There is a curious tension in the connection between these two verses Prince. Although I love the smootheness of their flow and the ease of expression, I can't help being amused at the implication of the transition from grumpily old to grumpily dead, the grumpiness in iiimplied by, "Sabbath in the grave is a long, long day." But the grumpiness seems to be moderated by the subsequent satisfaction in the grave's quietude.

I really enjoyed these.

Live and be well - H

[Jack of Hearts]

This reminds this reader of an opera he once went to about Stalin's Russia and political purging- a lot of unrest for the dead in that one...

There's something about the perspective in this (the second one, hearing the living earth above your grave) that is very disturbing....







J

[deryk]

Reading this reminds me that some peoples of the world are suffering from such an intensity that even death cannot stand as a resolution. A reminder that violence is transcendent perhaps, I wish I had the knowledge to read into it more. Very well put, Prince.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Hawkman, Jack of Hearts and Deryk: thanks for commenting, but I now regret having posted this as it doesn't adequately make sense to me.

[Jack of Hearts]

Haha, it's good to know that it happens to you too.





J

[deryk]

Hawkman, Jack of Hearts and Deryk: thanks for commenting, but I now regret having posted this as it doesn't adequately make sense to me.
The ambiguity of the speaker's identity (or lack thereof) between the two sequences was the only cause of confusion for me, but then again, my interpretation might have been way off balance.

[Bar22do]

Very well penned indeed. Now re the contents, why wait for the tomb to rest? N could rest while alive, walking and breathing deeply under the winter sun, sitting on a park bench and following birds' busy activities, lighting Hanuka candles, listening to kids' songs, looking into a pair of loving eyes, musing,... so many ways to rest -- especially since nothing really indicates there is any rest beyond the tomb!

[firefangled]

i

Mid the tumult, the clatter and the geschrei,
one longs for rest.
But rest does not come.


ii

Sabbath in the grave is a long, long day.
There’s thunder and lightning and war overhead,
but it’s quiet
down here
among the dead.


Prince, I think you have the conflict stated, but it seems buried (no pun intended) beneath the conventions you have included.

I don't mind having to look up a word (geschrei) or two in a poem to help me understand more. What bothered me here was you are presenting a fairly common sentiment among all people. When a culturally oriented expression is used in a poem, it sets up an expectation that it is not culturally common, but specific.

There is a lot of good thought here (as usual for you), and I would not dismiss your poem or regret it as you said. I would like to read more specifically how these thoughts, culturally speaking, affect the narrator. Was that your intention?

Jane Mead made much of the din of the world and death in The Lord and the General Din of the World. The subject is inexhaustible, I would think.

[Haunted]

I read this from the point of view of an Israeli (or a collective Jewish sensibility) and it makes a lot of sense. While we usually say the two words "peace and quiet" together, they don't always go hand in hand. Death just mean dead quiet, but there is no peace until the fighting is over. Subtle but haunting, a really remarkable poem.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Thanks Haunted, and

Prince, I think you have the conflict stated, but it seems buried (no pun intended) beneath the conventions you have included.

I don't mind having to look up a word (geschrei) or two in a poem to help me understand more. What bothered me here was you are presenting a fairly common sentiment among all people. When a culturally oriented expression is used in a poem, it sets up an expectation that it is not culturally common, but specific.
A very insightful point. Throughout my work on this I was uncertain to what extent it could be a poem - which in my esthetic would mean that it was liberated from myself - and I think in retrospect that with geschrei I unthinkingly indulged myself in what was manifestly personal about it. "Tumult" and "clatter" might apply to a generic Everyman, but geschrei manifested the speaker's ethnicity; and once having allowed that I should indeed have tried to show how ii related to him.

Fact of the matter is that ii was written first and for some time just seemed to me too stark to post, too stark and lacking in context. The first part was written latter to provide the 2nd with something of a context


There is a lot of good thought here (as usual for you), and I would not dismiss your poem or regret it as you said. I would like to read more specifically how these thoughts, culturally speaking, affect the narrator. Was that your intention?
No, but as I've indicated above something of my own biography came through there.

Jane Mead made much of the din of the world and death in The Lord and the General Din of the World. The subject is inexhaustible, I would think.

Thank you, I have added that title to my file of booksto look for at the library.

[IceM]

The effortlessness this poem impresses upon me is astounding. Taking this same theme, I would struggle to craft something as wonderful, and would take much longer than it seems you may have, although this poem undoubtedly required a good effort!

Every time I read your poems, Eliot's lectures on the poetic creations of the "mature mind" flicker in my head. Your works are strong and are the emblems of a mature, developed mind.

[blank|verse]

An intriguing poem, Prince; the main point of intrigue being 'from whose perspective is this written'? A dead man's? A gravedigger's? ("You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours. For my part I do not lie in't, yet it is mine..." &c, &c.)

Apart from that, the poem reminded me of 'The Long Home' by Scottish poet Robin Robertson, which takes its title from a Scottish metonym for 'the grave'...

[PrinceMyshkin]

An intriguing poem, Prince; the main point of intrigue being 'from whose perspective is this written'? A dead man's? A gravedigger's? ("You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours. For my part I do not lie in't, yet it is mine..." &c, &c.)

Apart from that, the poem reminded me of 'The Long Home' by Scottish poet Robin Robertson, which takes its title from a Scottish metonym for 'the grave'...

The perspective is intended to be that of the same person, 1) as he longs for death and 2) as he projects himself into that state.

Willl look up the Robertson poem, thanks.