death and such things

[Guest guest]

I had set out to build in a prosetry-poetry tree of inquiry, deep set

bone-bruising blade-work of the mind and the hindsight, the now-cow

too, kicking up sacred saturatons of "such and such is so because

society has always held and said that it is so," (I think of Socrates

right now) anyhow, or hoo, or who's booting this computer, really, a

ruthless inquiry with the 'usual suspects' sent home to set the table

with timid talk and tied-off theoretics, bearing torn up tea leaves of

belief, held closely to the me-mirror chest, ungrasped new green-ness

for the serving up of the 'levens, tidy-me tea in total boxed-up for

future use, a bitter tea served by everyone, entirety of society

screaming for heads and locks to tie one in knots at the very thought

of boffing off one's body-mind apparatii...

but I had an inspired inclination, evidenced as this -

 

Alone and with the entire creation, filled with all earth and

heaven's head's harp music and "in the heat of the moment of

identification" harpoons, thrust and parried, thrown again and again

at the enemy who is Friend, THE Friend lolly-gagging about as the

stand-in, acting out in looting, rape, war, despair, destruction,

hatred, murder, and in a lending gift of playing enemy, (In A Me) an

opus observation loft, a looking perch to ponder the present

attitudes attributed to suicide and the suiciders, to suicide and the

suicide survivors, do-ee and done to-ers' dubbed "those whom are left

behind to pick up the pieces" grief-gaffers and gripmen waiting in

the Wings of Desire to aspire to transcend and mend the heart and

mind, as those who love and know a person who dies or wants to die or

tries to die, and must go on living, alone and honed by Manjusri's

Sword to meet themselves at the empty grave they pray at. Crazy, eh?

 

But I could not fully fill the task at hand and head to offer up the

intuition and aliveness of what conspired to convey new and heretic

(by society's standards) understandings about suicide and the

prevailing attitudes to it. What are ya gonna do?

 

It began innocently enough this morning, watching, well, listening and

glimpsing, "The Song of Bernadette." And one idea begat another idea

and before you could shake a stick at that devil of poetry, seemingly

permanantly perched on my shoulders and back, I was out snipping

lilacs for my Beloved to find when he awoke, and red Rhododendrons

for our friend, Meera Ma, and Trillium spilled thrillingly out in

pink and streaks of even pinker, strung, stuck so daringly with maple

leaves and red photinia...for Love, for Love taking the hooves I hop

around on in happy glad revelry and sending me to gather flowers for

my Beloved Heart, my Darling Bob, my Lover of Light and Lilt and

little children named Grace....

 

Love has no face but that which we give It. And yet, Love is all these

faces, your faces, all faces, faces never seen, faces that shall never

be, my face, Amos and Abelard's faces, gathered in this Heart as

Bhava-bouquets, going to the grave as they are coming to the bloom,

and I swoon at this...Love,

She Moves Not and yet is all these movings of metaphor and detail,

ambiguity, all simple Heart-art of Love Loving within this musing

mind of a friendly find called "Mazie." Crazy, eh?

 

So I must and shall just play today. Suicide has something to say, but

saying, the saying of it is something else indeed. It's a

bottom-feeder coming up to the top of the pond and shining with the

swans -

 

OneWant...OneChum...OneDone....Tao of "what one is not supposed to

do..." and breaking all rules by breaking the taboos of talking about

the shadow subjects, like suicied and the right or wrong of it.

 

Don't get me wrong. It is not my thing.

Been

there

done

that.

 

But the hat's coming off that covered the subject in memoried myths,

conflicting riffs of scripture, and the fear that adheres to the

clear message always always clung to -

 

Suicide is wrong, always, in all situations.

Shan't kill, shan't spill

the blood of the wrist that's His.

 

Who kills and whom can be killed?

Who does and whom is done to?

Who dies and who despairs over death?

Who rejoices and who dies a thousand deaths

each minute, moment to moment to "no 'meant'"?

 

Crazy, eh?

 

So one might say, but hey, everyday suicide stuff keeps coming up

everywhere I turn or don't turn. And that is entirely cool enough

because it is. Just as it is in this life and death biz...or as Sri

Niz might say -

 

 

Withdrawal, aloofness, letting go is adeath. To live fully, death is

essential;every ending makes a new beginning.- Nisargadatta Maharaj

What is wrong in letting go the illusion ofpersonal control and

personal responsibility?Both are in the mind only. Of course, as

longas you imagine yourself to be in control, youshould also imagine

yourself to be responsible.One implies the other.- Nisargadatta

Maharaj

Being the source of both, the self isbeyond both knowledge and power.

Theobservable is in the mind. The natureof the self is pure

awareness, purewitnessing, unaffected by the presenceor absence of

knowledge or liking.Have your being outside this body ofbirth and

death and all your problemswill be solved. They exist becauseyou

believe yourself born to die.Undeceive yourself and be free. Youare

not a person.- Nisargadatta MaharajSensations as such, however

strong, do notcause suffering. It is the mind, bewildered bywrong

ideas, addicted to thinking: 'I am this'.'I am that', that fears loss

and craves gainand suffers when frustrated.- Nisargadatta Maharaj

The role of destiny unfolds itself andactualizes the inevitable. You

cannotchange the course of events, but youcan change your attitude

and whatreally matters is the attitude and notthe bare event.-

Nisargadatta Maharaj

Anne Sexton1928 - 1974, by suicide When Man Enters Woman

When manenters woman,like the surf biting the shore,again and

again,and the woman opens her mouth in pleasureand her teeth

gleamlike the alphabet,Logos appears milking a star,and the maninside

of womanties a knotso that they willnever again be separateand the

womanclimbs into a flowerand swallows its stemand Logos appearsand

unleashed their rivers.

This man,this womanwith their double hunger,have tried to reach

throughthe curtain of Godand briefly they have,though Godin His

perversityunties the knot.

~ Anne Sexton

Welcome Morning

There is joy in all: in the hair I brush each morning, in the Cannon

towel, newly washed, that I rub my body with each morning, in the

chapel of eggs I cook each morning, in the outcry from the kettle

that heats my coffee each morning, in the spoon and the chair that

cry "hello there, Anne" each morning, in the godhead of the table

that I set my silver, plate, cup upon each morning.

All this is God, right here in my pea-green house each morning and I

mean, though often forget, to give thanks, to faint down by the

kitchen table in a prayer of rejoicing as the holy birds at the

kitchen window peck into their marriage of seeds.

So while I think of it, let me paint a thank-you on my palm for this

God, this laughter of the morning, lest it go unspoken.

The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard, dies young.

~ Anne Sexton

Death in Sylvia Plath's poetry

By Sarah Maryssael, High School Student

Various representations of the theme of death

An essay hosted at LiteratureClassics.com

 

'Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.'

~ Sylvia Plath"Death is a prevalent theme in Sylvia Plath’s poetry

where its representations are explored from varied angles. Numerous

factors in her writing contribute to the reader’s understanding of

her poetry. These include Plath’s ability to communicate the theme of

death by adopting either a subjective or an objective point of view.

The use of a specific person perpetuates Plath’s different

representations of death by engaging the reader in either a personal

or an impersonal way. Poetic techniques such as imagery, language,

structure and tone are able to depict death as either a comforting or

disturbing experience thus providing the reader with alternative

perceptions.Death is most commonly viewed as a sinister and

intimidating end. Although Plath’s poetry offers alternative

representations, a fraction of her poetry conforms to the typical

view on death. “Two Views of a Cadaver Room” is a poem, which does so

effectively. In this poem Plath attempts to be objective by writing in

third person point of view. The structure is also successful in doing

so as it is divided into two verses. The first verse describes a

mortuary where four men are examining human corpses presenting a very

sterile and lifeless setting. The second verse speaks of a couple in a

painting preoccupied by their love yet ignorant to the horrors of

death. This opposition between the two verses creates an alarming

juxtaposition. Because the first verse adopts an attitude of reality

and rationale compared to the couple’s ignorance in the second verse

(ie: ‘only are blind to the carrion army’), the first verse is

further emphasised thus foregrounding the eeriness of death. This

technique is recurrent in Plath’s poetry and is equally effective in

“I Am Vertical” by offering two verses to compliment yet contrast

each other.The varying imagery in both verses is relevant when

highlighting different aspects in the poem. The use of disturbing

imagery represents the horrific nature of death as a force, which

destroys the mind and the life in a person. The setting is

established in a dissecting room, which has connotations of an

absence of emotions in a scientific and impersonal environment. The

human corpses are described as ‘black as burnt turkey’ as their

organs and bones are removed. These images provide the reader with a

greater significance. The act of dissecting suggests removal of the

elements, which constitute a human being similar to the depiction of

death in this poem. Death extracts a person’s life, mind and feelings

from a human body thus representing ‘a process of dehumanisation’ .

This is shown by the phrase, ‘he hands her the cut-out heart like a

cracked heirloom.’ Heirlooms are valuable objects, which embodies the

memory of someone just like the heart, which is often symbolised as a

person’s identity. The second verse speaks of a ‘blind’ and ‘deaf’

couple. Their lack of senses suggests the fragility of life beaten

the power of death.The fear and horror of death can also be perceived

as a means of self-destruction by an individual. This shifts the

perspective in Plath’s poetry from death acting as a force on the

individual to the individual choosing death. “Edge” and “I Am

Vertical” are two poems, which perpetuate this alternative approach

to death. In Plath’s poetry death is an act of self-destruction,

which draws focus to the persona’s pain and suffering. This is

particularly evident in “Edge” in the phrase ‘her bare feet seem to

be saying; we have come so far, it is over.’ This demonstrates the

persona’s constant endurance of pain has ended. The description of

bare feet signifies her vulnerability due to a lack of protection

perhaps from society. This poem is often regarded by critics as an

instance of the death instinct which Sigmund Freud referred to

specifically as ‘self-destruction.’ One critic, David Holbrook,

considers the poem as an ‘idolisation of suicide and infanticide.’

This statement is probably referring to the phrase ‘each dead child

coiled, a white serpent.’ However such a comment is quite extreme as

Plath’s disturbing imagery is merely a form of expression rather than

a reflection on her beliefs.An aspiration for self-destruction also

questions the significance and causation of death. The personas in

both poems are attempting to make a statement and are confronted with

rejection from society. This is effectively portrayed in “I Am

Vertical” when ‘the trees and flowers have been strewing their cool

odours. I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.’ This

phrase is metaphorical for society enforcing its attitudes on

individuals suggesting social restraint and a lack of independence.

The latter quote displays people’s egotistical and self-indulged

nature. This idea is also perpetuated in “Edge,” for example ‘the

moon has nothing to be sad about’ reveals that the persona’s death

will leave others unaffected. Death in both poems can thus be

perceived as a method of escape or self-deliverance.An escape from

life could lead to the personas seeking something greater. In “Edge”

the persona strives for perfection, which she finds through death for

example when, she says ‘she has folded them back into her body as

petals of a rose close.’ The rose is often depicted as having

qualities of beauty and purity, which the persona longs for. ‘The

woman is perfected. Her dead body wears a smile of accomplishment’

demonstrates a sense of finality and justice has been achieved. The

smile in Plath’s poetry, synonymous with malicious intent, reinforces

this finality. A similar attitude is found in “I Am Vertical” when the

persona says ‘I want the one’s longevity and the other’s daring’

referring to a tree and a flower respectively, which communicates the

persona’s desire for what she does not have. More importantly the

persona hopes that acceptance and recognition will result from her

death. This is highly apparent when the persona states ‘I shall be

useful when I lie down: then the trees may touch me for once, and the

flowers have time for me.’ These can therefore suggest that the

personas in Plath’s poetry lack satisfaction in their life and look

to death as a means of fulfillment and new beginnings.The idea of

death as a means of rebirth and regeneration is an element, which

makes Plath’s poetry so distinguishing. This focal idea is found in

“I Am Vertical” who describes the persona’s desire for acceptance

that she hopes to find through death. The concept of rebirth is made

obvious by comments such as ‘then the sky and I are open in

conversation’ describes the heavens opening up and death thus becomes

a union with nature. The use of the word ‘sky’ suggests death is an

elevated state of spirituality and fulfillment. The use of nature as

the poem’s backdrop has equal significance. Nature is often

associated with trees and plants which are stereotypically symbols of

life. Quotes like ‘so that each March I may gleam into leaf’ evokes

the idea of a cycle – a continual process of birth, death then

re-birth.The notion that death can result in new life creates an

Irony however these differences allow the reader to approach death in

an alternative way. This poem is highly atmospheric and takes on a

very calm tone. The term ‘garden bed’ has connotations of sleep –

related to security and comfort. The use of mellifluous words with

long vowel sounds like ‘gleam’ and ‘strewing’ provoke a very tranquil

mood. The language in “I Am Vertical” forms images contrary to the

disturbing ones in ‘Edge’ and “Two Views of Cadaver Room.” The use of

nature as a setting helps to reinforce the serenity in death just as

the use of first person point of view in the poem allows a for more

personal and in-depth experience. The contrast between a vibrant

nature full of life and death opposes the traditional view of dying

as morbid. This then proposes that life and death are somewhat

inter-related and one can be used as means of understanding the

other.Plath’s diverse expression of death extends to expressing her

love of life via the horrors of death as a form of comparison. A poem

which does so successfully is “Totem” where the persona’s praise of

life could be due to his/her painful awareness of their own mortality

and their defense to death is a whole-hearted commitment to life. This

is contrary to Plath’s typical view on death as she seems to develop

an anticipation of death rather than a fear. The opening lines ‘The

engine is killing the track … It stretches into the distance. It will

be eaten nevertheless. Its running is useless’ immediately describes

the technique Plath is using. The train symbolises a technological

nightmare or more indirectly, death. The quote proposes death is too

far away to be a concern to the speaker and even if it approaches, it

will be overcome by perhaps something greater (ie: life).The persona’s

gratitude in life is suggested in the phrase ‘The world is blood-hot

and personal,’ where this demonstrates the intense connection she has

with life. The word ‘blood’ denotes one’s existence while ‘hot’ speaks

of the strength the persona experiences. The quote ‘There is no

terminus, only suitcases out of which the same self unfolds like a

suit bald and shiny, with pockets of wishes,’ creates such beautiful

imagery of life which seems so out of the ordinary for Plath’s

poetry. It describes life as a series of opportunities where its

beauty lies in its variability and surprises. Plath’s horrid images

of death help to highlight the loveliness of life.One critical aspect

in “Totem” is Plath’s representation of God. God is often praised for

his creation of life however the persona takes on a negative

viewpoint of Him. God is compared to the philosopher Plato: ‘Let us

eat it like Plato’s afterbirth, let us eat it like Christ.’ The

critic Janice Markey describes this relation as ‘the affinity of this

figure-head (Christ) with the world of abstractions and his detachment

from ordinary life . This questions the persona’s uncertainty of the

existence of a benevolent God as He might be a critic rather than an

omniscient being. The persona then starts to believe that God is

perhaps malevolent who enjoys a sadistic pleasure, suggested by ‘I am

mad, calls the spider (referring to God), waving its many arms.’ The

poem later describes the vulnerability of flies as ‘they buzz like

blue children’ which can be likened to a hunter (God) and his preys .

Annette Lavers describes this reference as ‘a revolt against deity,

which is shown as a blood-thirsty pagan idol grimacing like a skull,

and at the same time mobile like a scarecrow, and ridiculous and

counterfeit, like it .’ This harsh criticism is relevant in some

respects as the depiction of God is quite negative but however God in

Plath’s poetry is often metaphorical for her father and their strange

relationship.In conclusion, Plath’s successful poetry can be

attributed to her ability to express certain themes in such a diverse

way. The theme of death is conveyed on many levels which are

distinguished by the persona assuming a subjective or objective view

and using varied imagery to reflect what he/she is experiencing. The

use of unique metaphors, the choice of words and the structure of the

poems are other elements which contribute significantly to the

understanding and enjoyment of Sylvia Plath’s

poetry."BIBLIOGRAPHYMarkey, Janice. A Journey into the Red Eye. The

Poetry of Sylvia Plath – a critique.

((( Me again. I did these things. Died and tried to die, many times. I

wrote death poems as a teen-ager and first attempted to end this life

at thirteen years of age. Again at seventeen, and then at twenty,

tried, died, came back. Survived my own moment of atonement for sins

I carried in my head and wounds that would not heal...and like Erica

Jong once wrote,

"No one beats me half as well as I beat myself."

Well I am not an abuser any longer. I'm really pretty nice to myself.

The Dear struggling straggler, she need not haggle over the price of

pain any longer. Crazy, eh?

There is a book on suicide called "The Savage God," by A Alvarez. Here's the synopsis:

"SynopsisIn The Savage God Al Alvarez confronts the controversial and

often taboo area of human behaviour: suicide. He embraces both the

cultural attitudes and the development of theoretical studies, giving

a broad basis for his examination of suicide through the standpoint of

literature, and follows the black thread leading from Dante, through

Donne and the Romantic Agony, to Dada and the Savage God at the heart

of modern literature. As a framework for his study, Alvarez gives his

personal accounts of two suicide attempts: that of Sylvia Plath, the

gifted young American poet who took her life in 1963, and his own

unsuccessful attempt, to form the most important title on this

subject yet published."

A review: "Alvarez's classic book, "The Savage God," examines the

religious, sociological, philosophical and literary aspects of

suicide through the ages. In pagan Rome, suicide was habitual and

considered an honorable way to die. In the Middle Ages, suicide was

regarded with revulsion as a mortal sin. Dante, in his "Inferno,"

consigned suicides to the seventh circle of hell, below the burning

heretics and murderers. Later on, the Romantics associated premature

death with genius and they admired people who ended their lives while

they were still at their artistic peak. Throughout history, mankind

has viewed suicide as everything from an unforgivable crime of

self-murder to the sad act of a person for whom living has become

intolerable.

In a more personal vein, Alvarez discusses the fascinating poet Sylvia

Plath, with whom he was acquainted, as well as his own depression and

attempted suicide. The section on Plath is superb. Alvarez was fond

of Plath and he admired her work greatly. He reveals in a clear-eyed

manner how the forces tearing her apart were stronger than those

holding her together. "The Savage God" is an absorbing look at a

subject often spoken of in whispers. Alvarez points out that people

who lose parents at an early age are more likely to take their own

lives. He also examines in depth the strong and mysterious link

between creative genius and the impulse toward suicide. "The Savage

God" is a work that sheds welcome light on the human condition in all

of its complexity, yet Alvarez never presumes to provide easy answers

to questions that are ultimately unanswerable. "

This is at Amazon along with these titles:

Darkness Visible : A Memoir of Madness by William Styron (Author)

(Rate it)

Night Falls Fast : Understanding Suicide by Kay Redfield Jamison (Author)

(Rate it)

History of Suicide: Voluntary Death in Western Culture (Medicine and

Culture) by Georges Minois, Lydia G. Cochrane (Translator)

(Rate it)

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath by Karen V. Kukil (Editor), Sylvia Plath (Author)

(Rate it)

Suicide: The Forever Decision...for Those Thinking About Suicide, and

for Those Who Know, Love, or Counsel Them by Paul G. Quinnett

(Rate it)

And then there is Dr. Kevorkian, another day another discusion

perhaps. Crazy, eh? Maybe. Lovers of leaving leave trails of tears

they follow to the Sea. They leap in, they find that instead of

drowning, they are Immersed in "Upliftment, Buoyancy," and there is

no death, no dying, no die-er and no grievers to believe that anyone

has left or been uncleft from the Cliff Of This. Grief is the shine

on the teardrops left that the lover's of leaving left, signs of

there destination and direction ---

To the Sea of Being.

....Wanted - Dead or Alive.

"Have Gun Will Travel reads the card of a man.A knight without armor

in a savage land.His fast gun for hire heeds the calling wind.A

soldier of fortune is the man called Paladin.Paladin, Paladin Where

do you roam?Paladin, Paladin, Far, far from home.

He travels on to wherever he mustA chess knight of silver is his badge

of trustThere are campfire legends that the trailmen spinOf the man

with the gunOf the man called PaladinPaladin Paladin Where do you

roam?Paladin Paladin Far, far from homeFar from homeFar from home

~ theme song to "Have Gun, Will Travel," or otherwise known as: "Shiva's Got a Brand New Bag...."

So just this, then, for now... I Love Bob, and how! He rocks my

mountain, reels my dream, thrills the very throats trilling riotously

in song now, outside my window, calling, chittering most

chitter-generously, "Come my Loves, come Play with Me..."

Death will come to all, but not today."

 

XVII.Who will believe my verse in time to come,If it were fill'd with

your most high deserts?Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a

tombWhich hides your life and shows not half your parts.If I could

write the beauty of your eyesAnd in fresh numbers number all your

graces,The age to come would say 'This poet lies:Such heavenly

touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'So should my papers yellow'd

with their ageBe scorn'd like old men of less truth than tongue,And

your true rights be term'd a poet's rageAnd stretched metre of an

antique song:But were some child of yours alive that time,You should

live twice; in it and in my rhyme.

~ Wills givin' chills, Shakes and Spears, it appears

 

to what shall i liken this world?moonlight, reflected in

dewdropsshaken from a crane's bill.-- Dogen Zenjidown the hatch,

splash!justice? mercy? Scales of Tao -- dinner:fish and a shit's what

matters in the crane’s world court.

One last poem, from Mary Mackey, just because she's so damn good!

 

The Shadow Puppets

 

we were not bent on destruction

but curved to silence

 

we thought we were like the knife blade

bowed beneath the water

we thought that nothing moved

but the image

we thought that the thing behind the image

stayed frozen forever in the instant

like a single frame of film

we thought we were like people in a painting

forever beginning to sink

and never sinking

we thought we were petrified in amber

like a pair of bees

caught in a million-year-old flight

to some extinct flower

 

we were not bent on destruction

we thought we never moved

 

but destruction like a long shadow

with many hands at evening

danced along the road before us

the shadow puppets

the idiot couples

who ate each other

while we stood still

 

~ Mary Mackey

 

LoveAlways,

Mazie

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