Soma
Resources => Poetry [Public] => Topic started by: Nichi on April 28, 2014, 04:27:51 PM
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No Man Is An Island
by John Donne
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
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If I've read that before, which I'm sure I have, then I can't recall it.
What strikes me is how the poem as a whole completely changes the meaning of the famous last two lines, when taken alone. Typically used to presage one's own death, it actually speaks of that part of ourselves which dies when another is called through the veil.
It is a sentiment that distinguishes itself significantly by the fact of its total rejection by our current global culture.
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It is a sentiment that distinguishes itself significantly by the fact of its total rejection by our current global culture.
Definitely. Interrelatedness and interconnectedness? Not the accepted point of view, you are right.
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interrelatedness and acceptedness
i just got off the phone
the television echos my sentiments
the dog snaps at a mouse as it found an opening outside
after i have watched it climb the edge looking for out
can't say im not glad
after tell tale pills arrived a day or two ago
maybe they scared this mouse away
as the rain may have brought it in
strange scquirping sound
and birds that know they are being spoken of
lungs that wash them self of them self
cut grass
the large moon s horizon
growing puddle swolen earth
one l feels right
a hand that reaches for the correct glass by feeling
and i know i know i know i know
wish i had more to say
a cup of tea
wisdom washing the shore
engage
planetary polarity integration experiment
what a strange phrase
engage
so much water passed
bubbles rising up
she the wind spoke of a song
which went to its attractive proposition
moments after the passing whistle of its
own recognition of advancing tune upon itself
i made fun and point to the middle and wait for the slap
again
stand in the middle with me
and turn the hat
towards the wind yet with recognition towards the advancing song
love movement
passed water i know you too well
old friend haunted well
bristling this way to that
breath gentle
wind song
hold me not
to come and go with this breath
it is fire for want
to give the birth
the child the wise
the serpent the dove
tempting ledge
throw myself off again
let myself off again
where fire for where art thou gone to
time ashes ether
wind coming going
to where have i blown
i would pour the tea at another time
the voice says "love"
and i understand yet "journey " fee from obligation
to a wind song
the singer singing on
whistle well
time the grinder of the organ
sing well