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April 11, 2011
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This is based off The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T. S. Eliot. It might help to read Eliot's poem first, if you haven't before.

   Shall I stay, then, alone,
When the dawn is straying from the sky
Like a child roaming the sea;
Dare I stay – amidst parades of kings,
The rising revolution
Of tranquil days in silk-spread beds
And colours of mayhem in blacks and reds:
Wind chimes that jingle without judgement
Without affront –
And follow the questioning wind, without answers –
Oh, do answer, "Why not?" and
Let me stay, and dream of a candle you lit.

   On the beaches the men wander alone
Driven speechless by siren song.

   The house fairies lie beneath the windows.
The sunflowers that house imps hang above the windows
Droop their petals precariously earthward at dusk
And hide from the night sky in cement cracks,
Hinder gravity come dayspring and soar sunwards,
Stir from their pot, rise from sleep like the queen,
And not realising that it was a harsh November morn,
Step from the house, and search for hints of Spring.

   And there will be a space,
For young girls to see sunflowers that are queen,
Rise haughtily and conduct their kingdom;
There will be a space, there will be a space,
To learn to bury your dreams of submarines;
There will be a space to find the means,
And a space for all the worlds and ways
That drop and lift answers on your spoon;
Space for me and space for you,
And a space yet for one conclusion
And for the illusion and disillusion
After the making of something new and true.

   On the beaches the men wander alone
Driven speechless by siren song.

   And indeed there will be a lifetime
To know, "I don't care," and "I don't care!"
Lifetimes for your pair of lips to rise and fall,
With a hoarse voice, and a quiet call –
[They will think: "How her voice is harkening!"]
Your dark eyes, your shirt flowing over your skin,
Your quiet, but your regal cheekbones and your lifted chin –
[They will think: "But how the corner of her mouth forms a grin!"]
Do you dare
leave me alone?
For a life there is time
For turns and blurted words in which a life will have flown.

   For you learnt no longing, none, none yet,
No eyes seeking for the fire, the lyre, the light.
You danced in your life and out with fright;
You learnt the songs faltering with a faltering breath
Above the music about the place.
 So how will you believe?

   For you have learnt my mooning heart none, none yet;
The moon that moves over moors, over days,
And when this leaves you, quivering on a bend,
When you are only focused and shivering breath,
Then, how will you end
And still remain an arrow, with your warrior ways?
  And how will you believe?

   And you have learnt my longing none, none yet –
Longing that is unadorned and simple and long.
[But in the melting shadows, smooth and lean and strong!]
Is it some perfection, or fault
That makes you stutter, or halt?
Longing that runs away with me, runs to me -
  And how will you, then, believe?
And how will you end?

****

   Will I say: I daren't go mad at dawn for the eavesdropping cats
And I daren't listen to the mechanic sounds of the tools
Of peddlers who are the devil incarnate, peering into drains for silver? …

   I will yearn to be a haunting shipwreck
disturbing the peace of the sands of the earth.

****

   And the sunrise, the nightfall, come so skittishly!
Clutched by young hands,
Awake … lively … or the light stands,
Agitatedly on the walls, there from you and me.
I may, after dinners and after breakfasts,
Have the weakness to persuade the moment so it lasts.
But though I am living and speaking, living and laughing,
Though I can see my face (longer and paler) reflected in seawater,
I am my fate – and - here's an admired matter;
I am blind to a life with such shallow depth,
And I am blind to passion dutifully swept,
And in finale, I am gambling.

   Shall it be worth it, without exaggeration?
After the ships, the ports, the sail,
Behind the salt - behind the silence -,
Shall it be worth yours or mine while,
To give in to Memory - to share a smile,
To have become two ravens and croaked a call:
To call, "I am Thought, come from the wise,
Come forth to whisper it now, to you, to forget -"?
If two, having tea, should say in surprise,
Should say: "That is it! I meant it all.
  That is it, for once and for all."

   And shall it be worth it, nevertheless,
Shall it be worth yours or mine while,
After the moonrises, the mountains, and the many miracles,
After the fields, after the deserts, after the winds that blow it all around –
And this, and nothing else? –
It is possible to say what I never meant!
A firefly has drifted your way and thrown the world into light regret:
Shall it be worth yours or mine while -
If two, looking around, or observing a wall,
And turning from the window, should think:
  "That is it, it all,
  That is it, for once and for all."

****

   Yes. You are always a queen and never shall be,
Ever, a mermaid quiet. It might well do
To yield, do the staged tried and true.
Betray the king, wielding a cunning tool:
Rebellious, glad to be of misuse,
Idealistic, reckless and miraculous;
Full of filth and oaths, but very shrewd;
At times, indeed, almost plausibly –
Almost, at times, the Cruel.

     I am ageless. … I am ageless …
I have never before dared the world to confess.

   Will I care for the sunset? May I drink wine?
I will tear up silk, and on the beach, dare to build a shrine.
I have sung to the sirens, told them of me and mine.

   I believe in their wild, wild ways, they heard me.

   I have seen them idling on rocky thrones and listen
Breathing not a song and dare for the sailors to speak
When they waft past, dare to tempt them to love, to seek.

   Nobody has stayed to conquer the cliffs of the sea
By sirens singing our dreams of albatross and azure sky,
Till the thunder wakes us, and we sigh.
"If I thought my reply were to one who could ever return to the world, this flame would shake no more; but since, if what I hear is true, none ever did return alive from this depth, I answer you without fear of infamy."
— Dante, Inferno.

I don't know what category to place this in. I was dared by *AzizrianDaoXrak to do this prompt using TS Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufock. NaPoWriMo-11. 160-lines according to Word. It's a response poem, I suppose, using Eliot's poem's style and format and attempting to emulate it. It's more selfish. It's still in the works, but critique and comments are deeply appreciated. Thank-you. :heart:

Edited somewhat 02.10.2011.
Edited again 30.09.2012.

23.10.2012:
OH MY HEART
I LOVE YOU ALL

:heart:
Add a Comment:
 

Daily Deviation

Given 2012-10-23
The suggesters say: "it gave me chills. The voice and the cadence sound so much like Eliot" "[The poem is] a hugely ambitious undertaking that is pulled off wonderfully. T.S. Eliot would be very pleased"The Dream Song of Anonymous by =Vigilo Also suggested by `Kneeling-Glory ( Suggested by QuiEstInLiteris and Featured by Nichrysalis )

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

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:icondailylitdeviations:
DailyLitDeviations Featured By Owner Mar 10, 2014
Your wonderful literary work has been chosen to be featured by DailyLitDeviations in a news article that can be found here: dailylitdeviations.deviantart.… Congratulations on your DD!

Be sure to check out the other artists featured and show your support by :+fav:ing the News Article. Keep writing and keep creating.
Reply
:iconvigilo:
Vigilo Featured By Owner Mar 12, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you so much! :glomp: :heart:
Reply
:iconsparia:
Sparia Featured By Owner Dec 13, 2012  Student General Artist
this amazing work is featured in my Journal [link] :dance:
Reply
:iconvigilo:
Vigilo Featured By Owner Dec 16, 2012  Student Writer
Thank you so much! :heart:
Reply
:iconsparia:
Sparia Featured By Owner Dec 16, 2012  Student General Artist
you are most welcome! :hug:
Reply
:iconrober2:
rober2 Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2012  Professional Writer
Holy. Fuck.

I had over 600 deviations to go throug (read: delete) today, and on a whim I decided to read yours, just because your comments are always nice, yet often equally constructive. I love this poem, although I couldn't help but flinch at lifetimes, with Eliot's rhythm in my ear (I know his poem more or less by heart). Oh well, that is a nitpick if ever there was one.

Anyway, congratulations on the DD, this is a wonderful piece!
Reply
:iconvigilo:
Vigilo Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2012  Student Writer
May I return the same sentiment regarding your comment? ;)

I'm glad you did - thank you so much! I saw your point about lifetimes, though, even if you say it's a nitpick - I've gone and changed it to another word, I don't know if it works, but I'll keep that in consideration as I edit this! I'm so glad you enjoyed the poem - thank you so much for the lovely comment. :heart:
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:iconrober2:
rober2 Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2012  Professional Writer
I must confess, I half-hoped it would be a tribute to the internet group Anonymous in the style of Eliot:

Let us troll then, you and I
with the goatse spread out against the sky
like a newfag high on Jenkem on a table...

(If you did not get the references... Don't google them!)
Reply
:iconnichrysalis:
Nichrysalis Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
I feel (felt?) incredibly privileged to feature this piece of literature. Keep writing. :heart:

Nic
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:iconvigilo:
Vigilo Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2012  Student Writer
:blush: I'm thoroughly amazed and awed that you think so. Will do - thank you so much. :heart:
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