Da_Yog Posted February 23, 2008 Report Posted February 23, 2008 I apologize for posting another one that is so long. (OK maybe not. ) This poem exists as a reworking of a Nietzschian parable. I kept much of his original message and then spliced in much of my own philosophy concerning life. The Beast, The Wasteland, and The Serpent are highly symbolic so please don't take this as a literal read. I suppose that will make it quite difficult for many. At any rate I would encourage each reader to bring his own experiences to the poem and make of it what you will. I am Man! I—The Beast A Beast! A fierce Beast: Of tanned fur, Clashing claws, And gnashing teeth, Stalked me In my ignorant bliss. Fear, emotion, instinct Overwhelm logic. I ran—fled— Terror stricken! The Beast— A predator Bred for speed— Feasted on my flesh! I lamented An end of Gnashing teeth, Rending claws. The moment seemed to stretch forever. It was: A moment of truth, A moment without form, A moment of nothing—but thought. "Cogito ergo sum," I bellowed! The Beast—thus confronted—was banished. I, in contemplation, awoke— In a Wasteland. II—The Wasteland There are no Beasts in the Wasteland. It is a place of dry sand, A place of dead sage, A place of doomed souls. I wandered the Wasteland cataloging what I might find— Should it somehow have become useful. Such logic, such thoughts, pleased me greatly. Happy was I with my newfound self. I thought much on my time with the Beast. It was a logic puzzle that pleased me greatly: The banishing of the Beast. There are no Beasts in the Wasteland. There are only dry sands, dead sage, and doomed souls In the Wasteland. I wandered the Wasteland for many years Finding bones of many man-like Beasts. Each told a little more of my doom. It was a doom of thought—linear thought— Thought on vanquishing Beasts. The Wasteland is littered with the bones Of Beast-slayers—logical thinkers all! There are no Beasts in the Wasteland. But in time there was good company. I spoke with many souls Many souls of great philosophers I held discourse with Plato, Aristotle, Socrates! I spoke with Descartes, Parmenides, St. Augustine! I learned from Hobbes and Hume! I debated Thoreau, Locke, Pope, and Emerson! I learned how the each slew fearsome Beasts set to consume them. Still I thirsted and I starved, For there are no Beasts in the Wasteland. One night I lay starving, Dying of want, A thousand Beast-slayers beside me. I dreamed again of the Beast —Always of the Beast— I dreamed of how I defeated it. I realized a longing A deep long-lost longing I awoke to a purring friend A friend possessed of tan fur And kneading claws. Suddenly— The Wasteland became a verdant land, A land of color and life. Green fields unfurled in verdant waves Spilling across a land of dry sand. Green sage bloomed and a gentle breeze blew My joy knew no bounds. It was then that the hair of my Beast Stood on end and he fled into the night. III—The Serpent A roar pierced the night— A slithering, hissing, vile roar. And with it came the Serpent! It slithered across the verdant green of the world A stance of pride encompassed it. A brown slimy trail followed close behind. The green land of my mind Cold not tolerate its passing. The Serpent rose up into the sky Its form blotting out the sun. Tiny scales fell from its body Like jeweled snow-flakes They fell to the earth There to rest upon dying soil. Each scale seemed encrusted in sin: Sins of man, Sins of our fathers, Sins of moments lost, Sins of our being, Sins of maternity not given, Sins of vanity, desire, pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, and sloth. Sin was inscribed upon the tip of its tail. Sins hissed from its forked tongue. The Serpent was a nightmare, A dream gone horribly wrong A sublime thought Feeding on the nectar of fear It hissed, It spit venom, It struck! The battle began. Logic dictated the Beast was right I ran—fled into the night. How could a mere man— A mortal such as I— Without my Beast fight. The Serpent: Flicked his black tongue, Tasted the air, Drank in my flesh, Inhaled my desperation. An ecstatic affair! Clearly a glutton of despair! Such became my days and nights: Running, hiding, fearing, fighting The wrath welling up within me. It didn’t seem to matter. I tried them all, one by one, Carefully cultivated each emotion, Every sin, all known virtues, With scientific precision. All were used to no avail. The Serpent would not relent! At long last: Bereft of reason, The Beast beaten, I lay down to give into My sin. The Serpent: Flicked his black tongue, Tasted the air, Drank in my flesh, Inhaled my desperation. A bacchanalian affair! Clearly it was drunk with despair! It thrashed over, Wrapped its coils about me Like a devious lover Coaxing some dark secret. I had thought it over, Thought to surrender my hubris and pride, But it seems perhaps Those were not mine to give, At least not to this creature of need. No, it wanted— Despair. The Beast steeled at the thought! The great Serpent flinched Then recoiled as if spying a kindred soul— For the first time. There could be no running, no fighting, No fleeing the Serpent. The Serpent was mine And I was his. IV—The Man I have been many things in my life: An animal, A scholar, A pious sinner. I had thought that I was not I had thought that I was separate, different In the end: I am the Beast, I am the Wasteland, I am the Serpent, I am Man!
Ozymandias Posted February 26, 2008 Report Posted February 26, 2008 A epic to describe the human soul? The best I've yet read.
Da_Yog Posted February 26, 2008 Author Report Posted February 26, 2008 I'm not sure it's quite an epic, but it is quite long. At any rate I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Ozymandias Posted February 29, 2008 Report Posted February 29, 2008 Despite its length, it reads like an epic. And I do mean this in a good way- scope of story told, what story is told...hm. Perhaps ballad with an epic premise? Hard to explain really, but it feels like a well-bred hybrid of classic myth/parable. I say this, too, being one with a longtime love of Aesop, epic fantasy, native american legend, greek myth, and epic poetry (though very few of those).
reverie Posted March 8, 2008 Report Posted March 8, 2008 (edited) More allegory than epic I think. Though you could turn it into one. Although it would be extremely difficult to do so without borrowing heavily from what has come before. Like "Paradise Lost" or "The Divine Comedy." Pretty good. I haven't read Nietzsche, but I can still appreciate it. Wasn't he the one who said God is dead? Anyway, my only criticism without having read the works it was based upon would have to be go easy on the exclamation marks. Someone said poet's only really should use one in their entire life. Come to think of it, it reads more like a list poem to me. Like "Leaves of Grass" or "Howl." rev... Edited March 8, 2008 by reverie
Da_Yog Posted March 10, 2008 Author Report Posted March 10, 2008 Nietzsche was probably the first to proclaim, "God is dead" but not the last. Sartre would echo the sentiment in the 20th century. Sartre was the one who famously stepped off a plane and proclaimed to reporters, "God is dead and we have slain him." Nietzsche said similar in his parable of the madman nearly a century earlier. For Neitzsche the path to being "human" was a clear one but an exceedingly difficult and personal journey. The first step is to defeat the lion: learn all that is learnable, know all that is knowable. The second is to traverse the desert: forget all that you have learned. The last step was to defeat the dragon: master sin. Since each person is ultimately responsible for all their own actions being a true individual necessitated these three steps. Nietzsche believed that there were very few people who were truly "human". He would say Jesus was one such person. This perhaps seems strange in light of his attack on the existence of God, but if you look at the actions of Jesus as one man this view makes sense. You can probably clearly see the images of the lion, the desert, and the dragon reflected in this piece—at least I would hope you can. At any rate I twisted nietzsche's parable into a journey of self discovery using conflicting imagery of emotion and logic.
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