Poem of the Day

Nice poem Bandini. I owe Bukowski an apology. I have condemed him at times, since I don't think I ever came across a poem of his that I even thought was poetry. But this is pretty good. He makes the most of this by the way he shapes the lines. [I'm not sure I share the sentiment. I tend to respect my elders, even when I don't agree with them. And who's to call someone's life a waste?]

Here's what I think is the key stanza:

Quote:

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one is asked
to view
their total error
their life-waste
with
kindliness,
especially if they are
aged.

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I'm not sure I quite understand: Is he saying that their lives are wasted because they were kind or that his kindness to them is a waste because of their errors?

Thank you so much Bandini.
Virgil, I respectfully disagree. Having worked for years in a seniors' residence and being drawn into most of the client's confidences I clearly saw that those words are very true. Just because someone is aged does not mean they are WORTHY of respect. We give it because it is the proper thing to do so to speak. You are a Christian and it says to stand up in the presence of grey hair and to be respectful for God's sake not the person.
And Scripture also says very clearly"by their fruits you shall know them" and I saw dreadful dead, warped, thorny, noxious fruit in many of those people. That IS a total waste of life, to have lived one's days with hatred, cruelty extreme selfishness. I saw many of their children and read in their haggard faces and tired eyes that their parents were yet even now still demanding and unaware deliberately or not of their effect on the lives of those children who came day after day to show love and honor to these individuals.
That is why the ones who had, regardless of social standing or wealth, tried to live a life of at least a modicum of human kindness glowed like rare diamonds in a room full of black coal.
I like this poem very much.

I quite agree Rachel. Someone that is obnoxious, racist, greedy, selfish, callous, etc., etc., gains no veneer of respect in my eyes merely by outstaying their welcome on the planet long enough to develop a few grey hairs. It's an interesting poem, and one which I identify with completely. I think Virgil is slipping into "PC" mode again. :D

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Originally Posted by Xamonas Chegwe

I quite agree Rachel. Someone that is obnoxious, racist, greedy, selfish, callous, etc., etc., gains no veneer of respect in my eyes merely by outstaying their welcome on the planet long enough to develop a few grey hairs. It's an interesting poem, and one which I identify with completely. I think Virgil is slipping into "PC" mode again. :D

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:lol: I said "tend to respect". OK, I should have added until they prove unworthy of it. I find that most older people have mellowed out their issues and on average are not as bad as younger people. Though, granted, not perfect.

And what do you mean by "again?" Do I have a tendency of slipping into PC mode? ;)

I don't find that older people's prejudices and issues mellow at all - they merely become more adept at concealing them from those that are likely to take offence.

Where the young racist will wear his skinhead and Doc Martins with pride and carry swastika banners at neo-nazi marches, the old racist shows no such obvious, outward signs - he and his ilk content themselves by passing their poison on to the next generation insiduously. I remember making the same point in another thread months ago.

And thinking about it, I think that you rarely slip out of PC mode. :lol:

Here is an example you might consider Virg. One of the ladies I cared for was a retired nurse. I and my sons went out of our way outside of work time to take her about and help her. She was rude hateful and demanding. The last two months I worked at the seniors residence she started demanding I come up and cater to her in her suite. I had seventy two other sick and dying patients and was on alone and had to help paramedics when emergencies came about. She screamed at me and I was constantly being threatened by my boss to not get her angry because of her wealth.
Well one night she demanded I come up. I had to walk all the flights of stairs because the elevator sometimes didn't work and if stuck help had to come from a city far away.
I was exhausted because no matter who I trained to take over so I could have holiday they quit after a couple of days. The woman was very ill and had a serious infectious disease so we weren't to go near her if possible, just leave it to the registered nurses when they came.She had been a seniour nurse and knew full well what she was doing.
She ordered me to do something and then tried to slap me. I told her lovingly but firmly she could not assault me. So she waited until my face was near hers and then deliberately coughed her phlem all over me. I rushed out and cleaned but unhappily I got pnuemonia in both lungs and nearly perished because of it and she died of it.
No, I don't see that type of person mellowing out at all for the most part.I must disagree and yes dear you do tend to slip back into that mode, but you are still a sweetheart.

I have a feeling that we are missing the main point of this poem...

To me, this poem is not about old people and how prejudiced they are or whether we should respect them or not but about about how we live our lives: It is your responsibilty to make something out of your life; live it in a way that when you look back at the end of your life, it won't be wasted.

And what the persona in the poem suggesting is that is one fails to do so, they have no one but themselves to blame for it. You can't expect to be respect simply because you are old unless you have lived a life to deserve it.

PS: Not a bad poem but I still don't like Bukowski! :D

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Originally Posted by Xamonas Chegwe

I
And thinking about it, I think that you rarely slip out of PC mode. :lol:

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:lol: I'm sorry if I'm old fashion. I don't think of it as PC. I call that etiquette and manners and decency. :p

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Originally Posted by Rachel

No, I don't see that type of person mellowing out at all for the most part.

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Perhaps you're both right on that. Let me just say I give people the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise.

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Originally Posted by Scheherazade

I have a feeling that we are missing out the main point of this poem...

To me, this poem is not about old people and how prejudiced they are or whether we should respect them or not but about about how we live our lives: It is your responsibilty to make something out of your life; live it in a way that when you look back at the end of your life, it won't be wasted.

And what the persona in the poem suggesting is that is one fails to do so, they have no one but themselves to blame for it. You can't expect to be respect simply because you are old unless you have lived a life to deserve it.

PS: Not a bad poem but I still don't like Bukowski! :D

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No one has answered my question in my first post on this on the stanza that I highlight. "waste with kindliness" Is he saying it's a waste to be kindly or that their lives were a waste because they were kindly? It seems ambiguous to me and I don't think he means for both to be true.

I think it's obvious that he is saying that we are not under obligation to view wasted lives with kindliness (ie. the adverb 'with kindliness' is qualifying the act of viewing the lives, NOT the act of wasting them).

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Virgil

No one has answered my question in my first post on this on the stanza that I highlight. "waste with kindliness" Is he saying it's a waste to be kindly or that their lives were a waste because they were kindly? It seems ambiguous to me and I don't think he means for both to be true.

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Quote:

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one is asked
to view
their total error
their life-waste
with
kindliness,
especially if they are
aged.

---

It is interesting that my interpretation of those lines are very different from your both suggestions, Virgil. I read it as 'one is asked to view their (people who have failed to lead 'worthy' lives) errors with kindliness, especially if they are old.'

To me, it is not 'their life is wasted with kindliness' or 'it is a waste to be kindly to them'. It is 'error of their lives' and 'their life-waste'; they wasted their lives because they did not do anything worthwhile. Later on he emphasises that it was their error not to make something out of their lives hence such people don't deserve to be respected (and viewed kindly) purely because they are old.

*edit*

Agree with XC. I didn't see his post while I was typing mine and talking on the phone. :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Scheherazade

*edit*

Agree with XC. I didn't see his post while I was typing mine and talking on the phone. :D

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I read half your post and was poised to be sarcastic (for once...:D). Fortunately, unlike some others, I was prepared to read to the end of a post before attacking. :lol:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Scheherazade

It is interesting that my interpretation of those lines are very different from your both suggestions, Virgil. I read it as 'one is asked to view their (people who have failed to lead 'worthy' lives) errors with kindliness, especially if they are old.'

To me, it is not 'their life is wasted with kindliness' or 'it is a waste to be kindly to them'. It is 'error of their lives' and 'their life-waste'; they wasted their lives because they did not do anything worthwhile. Later on he emphasises that it was their error not to make something out of their lives hence such people don't deserve to be respected (and viewed kindly) purely because they are old.

*edit*

Agree with XC. I didn't see his post while I was typing mine and talking on the phone. :D

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Oh, yeah Scher, you're right. The dash through me off. It's "life-waste". I was reading it "their life, waste with kindliness". Sorry. Although I wonder if the ambiguity is intentional. No Bukowski is not that good a poet.

In Memory of My Mother

I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily

Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday--
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle--'
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.

And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life--
And I see us meeting at the end of a town

On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.

O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us -- eternally.

Patrick Kavanagh

That is beautiful. I love it!