(Untitled)

[elirosalind]

A wanton soul found dead in despondence
whose licentious acts did deny her solace
stood stolid in despair's repose
was chagrined at introspections probe
fell blushing at the bulwark church
in desperation's awful lurch
aware the fearful, fetid stench
that left her lone, an alien entrenched
and though she bawled, and beat her breast
was haughty dubbed in her

Comments

where is this from?

[anonymous]

this is very deep; like something burt would write. i love the heavy wordiness. mim

Re: where is this from?

[elirosalind]

I wrote it

about whom?

[anonymous]

did she write? mim

have you read burt's new post? my children are sooo good at writing!!

Not That Prodigal, Mom

[anonymous]

I could be off-base, but it smacks of religion - but the end does wrap it well to make the point. It illustrates well where you are in your thoughts - and does it more-over in a fashion that is interesting & arcahic, which of course, I may be a bit biased towards. Nonetheless, the synergy of the words does well - alliteration and assonance more specifically. But it's well done - still a bit heavy on the modernism, but this is, as we have discussed, your style - and for that much, it does leave it's trade - mark. Very good.

[susancloud]

"The time is now propitious, as he guesses,
The meal is ended, she is bored and tired,
Endeavours to engage her in caresses
Which are still unreproved, if undesired.
Flushed and decided, he assaults at once;
Exploring hands encounter no defence;
His vanity requires no response,
And makes a welcome of indifference."

I've had the image of this woman burned into my head since I first read the poem. Is she the woman you're writing about?
I could talk theory about your poem. I really could. I know that shit. And I did get a degree in Pretentious Literary Studies. But, I'd much rather know your thoughts about it if you'd share them. I tried to call T.S. on the phone, but he was at a party eating ice cream. )THAT was obscure and proves how smart I am._

[elirosalind]

is this a poem by T.S.Elliot? Unfortunately I have not read a great deal of classic poetry, but I enjoyed the excerpt.
and unfortunately no, the woman i wrote about is me. it was born out of sadness and incredulity, a mere a melodramatic image of an something i have been battling for a long time. that's all i will say here, but if you'd ever like to get together for coffee, i'd love to expound further.
i'd also love to hear you talk theory! how exciting is that? i didn't realize you were such the scholar...

[susancloud]

That's The Wasteland. In my opinion, it is one of the most important and best written poems ever written (and certainly in my experience.) I read it as an undergrad and then again in grad school. I don't think I ever REALLY understood it, but I did make some progress! You must read it, but you must read some good commentary as well.(Just to explain all the obscure references, if nothing else.) In my very simplistic opinion, this passage illustrates that passion and love has been stripped from modern life and what we used to regard as sacred and central has become after-dinner amusement (and to her, it isn't all that amusing, even

[phoenixjsu]

Excuse me, if you don't mind me asking, that quote in your profile; "What you believe about yourself is directly proportionate to how you feel, and how you feel dictates how you behave. If you believe you are better, you are already so."

Who said that?

[elirosalind]

i said that after months of counseling with a very wise man

[phoenixjsu]

Thank you. I like that. It is very true.