tallonrk1
05-26-2013, 11:52 AM
Hey guys, so for my final AP Literature project, we were to find some way to express what literature does that nothing else in our culture can. So naturally I wrote a poem. In this project, we were told to use at least 30 or more quotes from pieces of literature that we've read in class. I'd like to know if you think I've accomplished this decently. Thank you.
So what is this?
Another novel, another set of characters, just another clump of words?
So what is this?
A bag of soundless faces, so perfectly voiceless, that plead: “hear me one word!”
Oh…but we have no time to waste on unnecessary words.
No time to waste on unnecessary words.
And so nobody sees us.
We are the hollow men—
Silenced—
By a terrible sense of insignificance.
We are the mechanical men!
Shackled down by the suits of woe!
Of the wide world, we stand alone.
So what is this?
Another flowing river of knowledge in another made up world?
Oh, I’ve known rivers.
My soul grows deep like rivers.
So what is this?
Another character battling against a conflict?
Climbing another mountain of words?
Trying to find an identity in the midst of insignificance.
So what is your name? So who are you?
So what is this?
So what is this?
…When I discover who I am, I will be free.
I will be free.
So who am I?
Am I the mechanical man?
Am I the hollow man?
Oh, but there’s too many words
Too many words
And I can stop thinking—thinking—
Of my inner insignificance,
Of my inner insignificance.
So why must everyone conquer the world?
How is it that envy is ignorance
When everyone must conquer the world?
So what is this?
Is this who I am?
A character in a novel, or even a play,
So infinitely complex
That when I open my mouth
I talk, but I don’t say anything.
Or have I been asleep?
Have I been dreaming?
So many questions—
So many questions.
So who are you?
My faithful companion?
To guide me in my quest of the world?
But these miles that separate us…
The decades that separate us.
A wall—erected indivisible—
Cuts the flow off from that rich river of knowledge,
My soul has grown deep like rivers.
But something there is that doesn’t love a wall.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.
Is it that mountain of words that echoes in the distance?
That mountain of words that echoes…
That echoes…
Always…Always…
They say good fences make good neighbors,
But I’d just as well like to cut down that fence
And find out who we really are.
So who are we?
Are we the hollow men?
Are we the mechanical men?
No! We are the reasoning animal.
Man is the reasoning animal.
But still something’s missing…
There’s Hell, there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit
And yet there’s no embodiment to remit
That sunken hole within my soul
To where love and fame and happiness to nothingness do sink.
And so I implore—I implore to who so ever shall embark,
Climb over that mountain of words
Cross over that river of knowledge
To give us comfort through the lonely dark.
Or else there will be a spacing—
Between us—
That will continue for the rest of our lives.
So who are we?
Oh, how sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is not to know!
I am exhausted. I am exhausted.
Pillar of white in a blackout of knives!
I bleed! I bleed!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
I fall upon the sidewalks of life!
I skin my knees!
I bleed!
I bleed!
But life can’t hide what’s in my face.
Life can’t touch what’s in my face.
My face…my face.
How can we move on now
In the face of what we don’t remember?
Remember…Remember…
We are the invisible men.
So what is this?
Another silky piece of unbridled literature?
Another chip in the wall, breaking down the undefined
Another drop of knowledge to add to that river,
For ‘tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind.
Another step up that mountain, to build upon what we knew.
It’s time we speak what we feel, not what we ought to say,
For even an invisible man has a socially responsible role to play.
And who knows but that—we all speak for you?
So what is this?
Another novel, another set of characters, just another clump of words?
So what is this?
A bag of soundless faces, so perfectly voiceless, that plead: “hear me one word!”
Oh…but we have no time to waste on unnecessary words.
No time to waste on unnecessary words.
And so nobody sees us.
We are the hollow men—
Silenced—
By a terrible sense of insignificance.
We are the mechanical men!
Shackled down by the suits of woe!
Of the wide world, we stand alone.
So what is this?
Another flowing river of knowledge in another made up world?
Oh, I’ve known rivers.
My soul grows deep like rivers.
So what is this?
Another character battling against a conflict?
Climbing another mountain of words?
Trying to find an identity in the midst of insignificance.
So what is your name? So who are you?
So what is this?
So what is this?
…When I discover who I am, I will be free.
I will be free.
So who am I?
Am I the mechanical man?
Am I the hollow man?
Oh, but there’s too many words
Too many words
And I can stop thinking—thinking—
Of my inner insignificance,
Of my inner insignificance.
So why must everyone conquer the world?
How is it that envy is ignorance
When everyone must conquer the world?
So what is this?
Is this who I am?
A character in a novel, or even a play,
So infinitely complex
That when I open my mouth
I talk, but I don’t say anything.
Or have I been asleep?
Have I been dreaming?
So many questions—
So many questions.
So who are you?
My faithful companion?
To guide me in my quest of the world?
But these miles that separate us…
The decades that separate us.
A wall—erected indivisible—
Cuts the flow off from that rich river of knowledge,
My soul has grown deep like rivers.
But something there is that doesn’t love a wall.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.
Is it that mountain of words that echoes in the distance?
That mountain of words that echoes…
That echoes…
Always…Always…
They say good fences make good neighbors,
But I’d just as well like to cut down that fence
And find out who we really are.
So who are we?
Are we the hollow men?
Are we the mechanical men?
No! We are the reasoning animal.
Man is the reasoning animal.
But still something’s missing…
There’s Hell, there’s darkness, there is the sulphurous pit
And yet there’s no embodiment to remit
That sunken hole within my soul
To where love and fame and happiness to nothingness do sink.
And so I implore—I implore to who so ever shall embark,
Climb over that mountain of words
Cross over that river of knowledge
To give us comfort through the lonely dark.
Or else there will be a spacing—
Between us—
That will continue for the rest of our lives.
So who are we?
Oh, how sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is not to know!
I am exhausted. I am exhausted.
Pillar of white in a blackout of knives!
I bleed! I bleed!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
I fall upon the sidewalks of life!
I skin my knees!
I bleed!
I bleed!
But life can’t hide what’s in my face.
Life can’t touch what’s in my face.
My face…my face.
How can we move on now
In the face of what we don’t remember?
Remember…Remember…
We are the invisible men.
So what is this?
Another silky piece of unbridled literature?
Another chip in the wall, breaking down the undefined
Another drop of knowledge to add to that river,
For ‘tis the time’s plague when madmen lead the blind.
Another step up that mountain, to build upon what we knew.
It’s time we speak what we feel, not what we ought to say,
For even an invisible man has a socially responsible role to play.
And who knows but that—we all speak for you?