When Day is Through

[Erthona]

When Day is Through
 
What do I do,
when the day is through?
I sit at home -alone-
the color drained from my hair;
having lived life so no one cares
whether I should live, or die!
Then why should I?     
So why should I?
 
 
–Erthona
 
©19

[Wjames]

When Day is Through
 
What do I do,
when the day is through?
I sit at home -alone-
the color drained from my hair;
having lived life so no one cares
whether I should live, or die!
Then why should I?     
So why should I?
 
 
–Erthona
 
©19

To be or not to be?
That is the question no one cares about!


That picture looks like Leonard Cohen; I like the tree/hand rising up behind him.

[Erthona]

Thanks WJ rock star


"To be or not to be?
That is the question no one cares about!"

Ha! Now it is does my butt look fat in these jeans, or do these sunglasses make me look cool.

Dale

[just mercedes]

I want to pat your shoulder and say 'There, there ...', pass you a big fat smoke and pour you a glass of Shingle Peak Merlot. Your last two lines had me searching my memory - I think it's Funiculee Finicula -
Some think it well to be all melancholic,
To pine and sigh; to pine and sigh; ...

... Ah me! 'tis strange that some should take to sighing,
And like it well! And like it well!
For me, I have not thought it worth the trying,
So cannot tell! So cannot tell!

[Erthona]

JM,

Well, I must admit the picture I drew I thought was better than the poem. However in my defense, the last two lines are not exact repetition, as one starts with "them" and one starts with "So".

However, If you got self pity from this, then the poem failed. He is not bewailing his lot, just acknowledging that his end is what you get when you live a selfish life. 


WJ, Sorry didn't catch your not on Cohen. Now that you mention it, it does look a lot like him, however, I had not seen a picture of him before I drew this face. I actually didn't know about him (I'm embarrassed to say), until I heard his song on one of the Shrek movies.


Dale

[ellajam]

I had the same response as JM, in my head I wrote a Woe Is Me poem with a kick in the ass you're still alive, dummy, ending. I'm glad she typed her's out.

I'm still enjoying the drawing with each view, the poem remains in the same place for me.

[Erthona]

I see many old men and woman sitting in the park, and the only ones having fun are the nut jobs. I was just wondering what made them so gloomy sitting there, so I was trying to look at life through their perspective. Maybe self pity is the correct answer, maybe living a life full of self pity gets you to the same place. Glad you like the drawing. I did a book where I drew a picture for each poem, as I already had a number of poems for the book. However, I quickly found it is much easier to write a poem about a picture than the reverse.

Thanks for the comments,

xoxoxoxo

Dale

[Tiger the Lion]

Hi Dale,
"just acknowledging that his end is what you get when you live a selfish life. "
I think this is what you were trying to say in L5. But I only thought that after reading all the comments including yours. You might be able to clear it up with a small tweak in that line.
Love the drawing.
Paul

[Erthona]

Thanks Paul. I will look at L5, thanks for the suggestion. This is a case of needing to drink my own medicine. "Poetry is about making the obscure clear, not making what is clear obscure." I thought after having this on the shelf for a few years, I would see it clearer. Obviously not. I shall strive for better clarity.

Thanks again,


Dale

[billy]

i'm not sure what i get from it. it's like the guy doesn't actually give a fuck what people think,
so what if people don't care about me. i do like the image.

[Erthona]

Billy,

That is basically what I was going for. He has lived his whole life not caring about others. It was not supposed emotional, more an intellectual awareness of living such a way, gets these results. It's just a realization that he becomes aware of, when he no longer has time to do anything. He had his chances many times to change, but now he is at the end of the road, with no time left to change. And it's like "Hum, I just realized my life is worthless, and I made it that way, no wonder no one cares about me, and why should I even care for me. It is an interesting quandary: not one I'm sure I can solve. I just don't no have to work the idea of detachment into it, with out destroying the poem.

Regardless, thanks for the read and thoughts.

Dale

[ellajam]

When Day is Through
 
What do I do,
when the day is through?
I sit at home -alone-
the color drained from my hair;
having lived life so no one cares
whether I should live, or die!
Then why should I?     
So why should I?
 
 
–Erthona
 
©19

Hi, Dale, I've been thinking about this one (ut-oh ). My problem:
If this poem springs from observation, where's the compassion? Maybe his wife and kids burned up in a fire, maybe they had that bad cancer gene and he's buried them all, maybe he was the only one of a family of ten to survive WW2 and he never recovered. I can't assume he's alone because he's selfish.

If the poem springs from the narrator himself I don't believe his epiphany. My mom hasn't said it since she herself got old  , but I remember her saying "People don't change when they get old, they just get more so." I've found this to be true. If this man lived his whole life so self-centered that he never encouraged other people to be a part of it, I don't think he's suddenly unhappy with the result. He's probably used to it and still thinks others unworthy of his thought and attention.

I think that's why I can't accept the POV of the poem, it rings off to me.

Just saying.