Guest Xradion Posted May 22, 2002 Report Posted May 22, 2002 I am but a Purgatorial phantasm, A waning specter, Drifting through a world Between life and death. My soul blows on past A prostitute, with Bosom exposed, but Head hung low, for She well knows that Men don’t make love To prostitutes. They @#%$ whores. Crimes of power, Seen at every hour, Animalistic instinct Consumes those who Dwell in hell. As I drift on by, I see the drunk, Sitting on the Street corner. Neither can he Hold his head Up high, A far off look In his eye, For he has but One. A Cyclops he is not. Yet circumstances he forgot, And misfortunes he wrought Brought him to this Sad state. Wrapped in a Tattered poncho, Drowning his anguish In an ocean of vodka. He too is drowning, For his mind is gone. What went wrong? This he asks himself. So much wealth To go around, Yet health, he has None, for he Never had a chance. As I sift through The city streets, I descend the long stairway To the subway. Underneath the city streets, I see nothing but grief. Rouges and pickpockets Go to work for a Dishonest buck. Concealed in darkness, Huddled together in A corner, With moldy bread They feed one another For here, for the Moment, they are safe. Away for the light, Away from the plight, And the constant fright Of the relentless pursuit Of those who are also Merely doing their Job. One wonders, who are The real criminals Here? These men? Or those clean cut In classy clothes and limos Who mock their misfortunes? Are these souls condemned to This existence? Why, oh why Can I do nothing? For I am but a Purgatorial phantasm, A waning specter, Drifting through a World between life and Death. Xradion, The Horny Druid, Scholar of the Ancient Arts, Holder of the Eye of Odin. "The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream." -Wallace Stevens "When at home, do as the Homans do." –Xradion
Wyvern Posted May 23, 2002 Report Posted May 23, 2002 The question of what one can possibly do to change an unjust system of society in which classes are treated unfairly and unequaly is one that constantly plagues us, and one which I feel this poem addresses. The last few stanzas of the poem in particular point to this theme, as the purgatorial phantasm questions which part of society are the real criminals, and why he can do nothing to change it. The allusion to purgatory is an interesting one, since perhaps the purgatory in this poem symbolizes the point between the rich and the poor, which are the supposed Heaven and Hell's respectively... Very good poem, I like it a lot. [image]http://members.shaw.ca/kea/am/wyvy.jpg[/image] ------------------------------ Almost a Dragon... "My life is one big crime, I try to scheme through it." -Common, "The 6th Sense" Owner of the Decanter of Endless Booze. Edited by: Wyvern00 at: 5/23/02 4:19:15 pm
Guest Xradion Posted May 24, 2002 Report Posted May 24, 2002 This is one of my more blatent (but in my opinion no less significant) poems. Everything you said was right, except that the purgatory in the poem was meant to be my existance here, right now, on earth. Having the knowledge but seemingly lacking the power to bring about change. My own response to these feelings is revealed in a later poem of mine entitled "Of Sheep Skin and Salmon Scales." Thanks for listening/reading. Xradion, The Horny Druid, Scholar of the Ancient Arts, Holder of the Eye of Odin. "The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream." -Wallace Stevens "When at home, do as the Homans do." –Xradion
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