Heading into the third part of my T.S. Eliot-inspired piece, A Modern Wasteland. What’s the story behind the story this time…?

I’d like to begin by once again saying thank you for all your kind comments and feedback. It has been much appreciated. And it keeps me wondering over and over, should I have left poetry behind in the first place? To the point where I have been contemplating entering The White Review‘s latest Poet’s Prize with it. Let me know if you think I should (or should not, as the case may be!)

But let’s move onto A Modern Wasteland‘s third stave, entitled, as a continuation of the Sermon on the Mount reference, …LEST THEY TRAMPLE THEM UNDER THEIR FEET…

A MODERN WASTELAND

III. LEST THEY TRAMPLE THEM UNDER THEIR FEET

We’ve lived this way for three years now

And what comfortable hour can you name

That ever graced me with your company?

Here we go – tossing ‘round the blame.

You came upon me as a princess,

Cloaked in velvet – a delicate gem.

But you quickly shed your innocence

And all became yours to condemn.

Thus the witch was surely born.

No Sycorax or Maleficent,

More a siren, pure on the surface

A celestial bride, most magnificent,

But a creature who would sooner kick the dog

Than shower it with modes of affection.

Time is running out for me,

This misery confines and offers little objection.

And hence I abandon you at last

Weighted by my regret for years wasted

In solitude and solace I may find

The joy I should long since have tasted.

I have deliberately made the setting of this poem’s narrative, both geographical and historical, very vague. As with Eliot’s original The Waste Land, I wanted to employ some cultural references, however sporadically. And because, as cultural references go, I enjoy a very eclectic mix, I thought it would be fun to highlight that by using two ends of the spectrum. In this stanza, I only use two cultural references, both in the same line. Two witches – Sycorax and Maleficent. The former, an unseen character from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, the mother of Caliban. The latter, most of you will know as the main antagonist from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty, and later on in various Kingdom Hearts games.

Otherwise… can you sense the theme of this stanza? We have had meanness in Part I, guilt in Part II. Now we’re dealing with betrayal and acceptance or realisation that a person is a bad egg. Quite happy to say I’ve known very few such people in my life, but all the same, they helped inspire this next part of A Modern Wasteland.

Part IV and final comes next week. Spoiler alert… don’t look for anything festive to finish off. This poem isn’t telling a happy tale.

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The exploration into our latest poem continues. What lurks behind the writing of the second part of A Modern Wasteland?

Had some very lovely feedback from the first instalment of my new poem A Modern Wasteland last week. So I thought I’d carry on, and I’ve just released the second part on my social channels. If you eschew social media, or just don’t follow me there, Part II of the poem is below:

A MODERN WASTELAND

II. NOR CAST THY PEARLS BEFORE SWINE

What foul thing can this be, giving chase?

Pursuing me as I pass through endless corridors and rooms.

I never find the exit, and thus

That demon – my guilt – ever looms.

I have a scratchy feeling in my throat

A sharp flinty shingle slowly choking me

Can this be the knowledge

Of my lack of charity?

“You should follow the Bishop’s example,”

My mother said to me.

“The Bishop of Digne. Valjean’s absolver.”

I knew the title instantly.

He gave up his God-given palace to the sick,

And took rooms in the hospital instead.

“True sacrifice is there displayed,” my mother preached.

“Easy for you to say,” I said.

For never cared she for jewels or fashions.

Few have been my mother’s treasures.

And thus she knows nothing truly

Of casting them aside for desperate measures.

“So forgive me if I cling to my finery,” I tell her,

“And my portable wealth.

“But know that guilt will forever be

A plague upon my health.”

I like to think I have blended modernist and post-modernist principles a bit here. The involvement of cultural references continue, in the style of T.S. Eliot’s original The Waste Land. For example, the title of the segment comes from the Sermon on the Mount, same as Part I from last week (and so the trend will continue into Parts III and IV). Victor Hugo’s immortal Les Misérables is referenced with the mentions of Valjean and the Bishop of Digne, who does indeed give up his palace so the overcrowded hospital next door can use the space. Meanwhile, I also reference a couple of English lyrics from one of my favourite songs My Yiddishe Momme. Namely, “How few were her pleasures, she never cared for fashion styles. Her jewels and her treasures, she found them in her baby’s smiles.”

In terms of the post-modernist, however, there is a degree of self-reference. Pertaining to anxiety and recurring dreams. I have one in which I am running in a grand house or hotel, through a series of doors that lead to various rooms or hallways. Can’t put my finger on what exactly I’m running from, mind you. But there it is – one of my recurring dreams. And then there’s the scratchy feeling at the back of my throat, which I’ve been feeling a lot during my anxious moments throughout this entire pandemic. Don’t get the wrong idea – there has been no cough, or any other symptoms for that matter, to go with it. It comes and goes episodically. And I thought it was a nice bit of imagery to chuck in with this character’s crippling guilt.

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