small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: poetry fu

Thursday, March 9

poetry fu

Ok, last night I was talking to Michelle and she was telling me how one of her college instructors put forth a question to the class. He wanted them to interpret a line of poetry by the writer Wallace Stevens. The poem is Sunday Morning and the line is;
Death is the mother of beauty
Now even though I’m not down with the poetry I found this to be very intriguing. And since I know that most of you muthafuckers who read this blog tend to be smarter and hipper then your average bear, I would love to see what your interpretations of the line would be. So how bouts you muthafuckers give it a shot, eh?

"and the monkey flipped the switch"


Blogger ajw308 said...

It takes loss to make you appreciate what you have.

10:57 AM  
Blogger Nightmare said...


Mothers are trhe creators of life, and with life comes Beauty. There can be no death, without life and no life without beauty.

Death is the Mother of Beauty.

12:07 PM  
Blogger satyavati said...

For $25,000, here's my final answer:

Every day you live is another step closer to death. Death, being the destination, is also the origin, because out of the death of one body comes the next body, and the next life, bringing beauty with it on its way to the destination again... an endless cycle of death-life-beauty-death...

I've probably just moved from the 'smarter than the average bear' category to the 'more fucked up than the average bear' category..
or did I do that with my LAST comment?

5:12 PM  
Blogger Chronic The Hedgehog said...

satyavati got most of it, but on the artistic side, death equals pain and suffering which while quite depressing are inspirational. One is driven to create beauty after observing ugliness at its extreme.

(what do I know, I'm high)

5:46 PM  
Blogger Viqi French said...

"death is the mother of beauty." that feels all Iron Butterfly, man. like "In-a-Gadda-Da-Vida" (i.e., drug-induced). :-)

8:12 PM  
Blogger LL said...

I read the whole poem. That is just one sentence with a semi-colon.

"Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,
Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams
And our desires."

Death spurs us on to seek the joy in every moment of life. The rest of that stanza talks about those precious moments that give us beauty, whether we choose to see them or not. We can accept our eventual death and live every second as if it is the last one and absorb the beauty, love, grace, and serenity of that second.

My 2 cents.

So, what kinda prize are you giving out?

9:22 PM  
Blogger Jessica said...

I think much of what has been written is spot-on, and I'll throw in my two pennies just for fun.

Not only is death part of the cycle of life, but intertwined with the spawnings of life, that is to say, when we procreate, or give in to those passionate feelings in an attempt to do so, we've not exactly cheated death, but we've moved beyond it. That passion to beat death that everyone feels is, ultimately, what brings about new life, making death the mother.

I should also say that this poem speaks in two voices, the female which rails against the impermanence of it all, and a masculine rebuttal voice. That line, and here I agree with LL, is only part of an entire stanza and is contained within a masculine response series.

If it seems cool and logical, I believe it is because the author intended a female voice to show transient beauty and disconnect with the seeming idyll, and he intended a masculine voice to respond with persuasive logic.

Sorry, diarrhea mouth again.

6:49 AM  
Anonymous the girl from OZ said...

Death is the mother of all beauty.

In parallel to Necessity is the mother of all invention, I interpret the above to mean that:

Death is the origin of beauty----you know, the whole concept that death [things dying] is what replenishes the earth; the life-cycle. Something sprouts and begins to grow, it flourishes and becomes something beautiful and then begins to whither and eventually die. Then, the process begins anew.

Mother = Origin

Death = the act of dying----aging

Beauty = Life/Growing

The act of dying (aging-death) originates from the beauty of being born and growing; living life!

From the moment we are born, we begin aging and moving towards our ultimate death.

8:16 AM  

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