#jalfredprufrock - Hello Poetry

Perhaps in time, I will understand love, How our separate bodies are to become one, Perhaps in time, I will understand How I never could love you, While loving you. Perhaps. Perhaps.

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Mar 22, 2018

Mar 22, 2018 at 8:14 PM UTC

vera-3

Musings

Perhaps in time, I will understand love, How our separate bodies are to become one, Perhaps in time, I will understand How I never could love you, While loving you. Perhaps. Perhaps.

7

Darkness calls on us like the Siren's Song, with the optimism of Candide, we charge on because we know "things are exactly how they should be," But we're ignoring the fact that we cannot see! We cannot be free! No wonder Yossarian went so **** crazy, trapped with no way out... Like the old woman protecting her individuality in her burning house. In this day and age, Individuality burns out faster than paper in flames. As fragile as Hamlet's mental state, **** it's gone. We're left as scared and self-conscious as J. Alfred Prufrock. Questioning ourselves, We don't dare disturb the universe. Forced back by scrutinizing hands through the shrunken entrances of our comfort zones, Left torn and scarred because they don't accept who we are. I walk the halls with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Watch identity evaporate without concern. Ignorant voices, the poison dripping into my ears. I walk the halls a ghost. They think I'm weird, Maybe a few screws loose, but I'll tell you what... "Crazy" Orr is the one who escaped Catch-22. Though I fear there is not an Odysseus within all of us, I fear we are not prepared. For when Darkness calls on us like the Siren's Song, temptation is seldom overcome. 6/13/14

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Aug 26, 2014

Aug 26, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC

guatuaonnaru

Our Siren Song

Darkness calls on us like the Siren's Song, with the optimism of Candide, we charge on because we know "things are exactly how they should be," But we're ignoring the fact that we cannot see! We cannot be free! No wonder Yossarian went so **** crazy, trapped with no way out... Like the old woman protecting her individuality in her burning house. In this day and age, Individuality burns out faster than paper in flames. As fragile as Hamlet's mental state, **** it's gone. We're left as scared and self-conscious as J. Alfred Prufrock. Questioning ourselves, We don't dare disturb the universe. Forced back by scrutinizing hands through the shrunken entrances of our comfort zones, Left torn and scarred because they don't accept who we are. I walk the halls with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Watch identity evaporate without concern. Ignorant voices, the poison dripping into my ears. I walk the halls a ghost. They think I'm weird, Maybe a few screws loose, but I'll tell you what... "Crazy" Orr is the one who escaped Catch-22. Though I fear there is not an Odysseus within all of us, I fear we are not prepared. For when Darkness calls on us like the Siren's Song, temptation is seldom overcome. 6/13/14

32

And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window panes; 25 There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to ****** and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30 Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go 35 Talking of Michelangelo.

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Jun 22, 2014

Jun 22, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC

jac26

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Elliot

And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window panes; 25 There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to ****** and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30 Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go 35 Talking of Michelangelo.

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