The first word is the hardest,
So will you blame me for my silence?
What am I supposed to say to you?
Tell me, where do I begin?
Chance with me this game of risk,
Abide with my strokes of wavering character;
Dilapidated shell and inflexibility of thought
And tongue.
Calculations. Cool and curt without perplexities;
Precision of pure science, where the numbers
Fit and flash into your face;
It's an epiphany.
A pilgrim race of prayer and chase,
And buried in the rye, the convalescent catcher
Wan and watching,
Sound the four minutes, commence the scratching
Of the saints, humbled in the midst
Induced of Psalms and figures, bound of
Blood and ligature, blind literature that cannot
Come close to what you inflict without intention.
Perhaps I am wrong, and the effort lies
With yours truly and not what conscience cries.
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Comments
Though it is exceptionally well written, I wont allow myself to like the reference to Catcher in The Rye. Which really is odd as I think it adds to the poem. But I read that book time and time again, and couldn't bring myself to like it - pray tell me what I'm missing!
Beautifully written, as ever, and I will be back for a further read.
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Jesus loves you! ...But I think you're a cunt.
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Jesus loves you! ...But I think you're a cunt.
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Live each moment like you're being watched.
As for that The Catcher In The Rye reference, I'm going to apologise now if my efforts to prevent this into becoming a full blown essay fails rather spectacularly.
Throughout the entire novel, there is a definitive sense of isolation and alienation from others on Holden's part, his cynicism and almost apathetic attitude to the social environment around him serving as a form of self-protection. Without elaborating on this aspect too greatly, this alienation Holden has from other people is a dual edged sword as such, put best as 'alienation is both the source of Holden's strength and the source of his problems', seen through his awkward and painful interactions with other characters.
I wanted to 'capture' that blessing and curse of loneliness here in this poem. Science, for example, is commonly viewed as sterile, clean and devoid of human interference, feeling and fault. That in itself is ironic in my opinion, but I can always indulge on this another time.
Another aspect of Holden's character that is interspersed throughout The Catcher In The Rye is his fear of the unknown, of the strange and unfamiliar and indeed, change. It is within human nature, to fear what is unknown or cannot be simply 'explained away', which may hold the key as to how some people blindly place their faith in science or religion. As human beings are individual creatures, unpredicable and prone to change in any way, this may also partially shed light on Holden's behaviour and thoughts on relationships- how will he explain away the other person and their emotions? Do their emotions trigger something within himself? -as well as his psychological shield of cynicism, shielding away intimacy, the very thing he may desire.
As I'm sure you're well aware, there's far too many different themes symbolism strewn throughout the novel... I've just picked out the easiest ones to relate the piece to the book
Without piecing together all the pieces, I hope to have at least laid out some of the basic groundwork of this piece for you
Apologies if this got exceptionally long...
Once again, thank you so much for the comment!
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~*~'...In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song//Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong...'~*~
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~*~'...In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song//Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong...'~*~
How about you and jimbo?
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Live each moment like you're being watched.
--
~*~'...In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song//Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong...'~*~
And, alas, we have school on Valentine's Day (get off that Thursday for half term). However, it does mean there will be sing-o-grams, joy...
We get exceptional closure for Valentine's, although our half term is early... We get Friday 10th and Monday 13th
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~*~'...In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song//Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong...'~*~
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