Journal For Poetry Challenge#7 25/03/2012

Death a poem
by William Butler Yeats

 

Nor dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Suppression of breath;
He knows death to the bone
Man has created death.

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In this poem I see “Death” stalking the battle fields and war torn villages and towns. Eagerly reaping up the dead. No respect for age or sex he just collects them all. Not even the animals are safe from him.

In fact the beginning  lines of the poem suggest that there is no hope for man nor beast . There is no hope, for man created war and in doing so they opened the gates of hell to let an unstoppable killing machine/ monster into our world.

Sadly I agree ever since the first tribes picked up stones or branches against each other war has been around in one guise or an other ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ modern or ancient…………………..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William Butler Yeats 13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939) was an Irish poet and playwright, and one of the foremost figures of 20th century literature. A pillar of both the Irish and British literary society.Yeats had a life-long interest in mysticism, spiritualism, occultism and astrology. He read extensively on the subjects throughout his life, became a member of the paranormal research organisation.

He  was born and educated in Dublin but spent his childhood in County Sligo. He studied poetry in his youth and from an early age was fascinated by both Irish legends and the occult.

Yeats proposed to 25-year-old Georgie Hyde-Lees (1892–1968), whom he had met through Olivia Shakespear. Despite warning from her friends—”George … you can’t. He must be dead”( he was 51yrs she  accepted,)  and the two were married on 20 October. Their marriage was a success, in spite of the age difference, and in spite of Yeats’ feelings of remorse and regret during their honeymoon. The couple went on to have two children, Anne and Michael. Although in later years he had romantic relationships with other women and possibly affairs, George herself wrote to her husband “When you are dead, people will talk about your love affairs, but I shall say nothing, for I will remember how proud you were.”

Yeats may of had affairs after his marriage but had only had two before firstly with Maud Gonne and secondly with Olivia Shakespear.

More information on W.B Yeats can be found at  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._B._Yeats

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Poetry Challenge #7 is to create a journal of links and your reactions to poems by established (living or dead poets.) Details are here.  Example response is here. Mr. Linky for Challenge #7 is directly below:

6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Vampire Weather
    Mar 27, 2012 @ 04:05:19

    Wow, as I was reading this I realized I was listening to the song “Yeats Grave” by The Cranberries…is that coincidence? What are the odds of that? Amazing work, my friend

    Reply

  2. granbee
    Mar 27, 2012 @ 15:33:24

    Willowdot, how very appropriate that you write about a personified Death in this time of ongoing war and horror in so many places in the world. Your photo illustration is most powerful, as well. Kudos to you for speaking out about the never-satisfied appetite of Death, “seeking who he may destroy.” I enjoyed the biographical reminders about W.B. Yeats, a fellow Celt! His wife would make a worthy role model for many in Hollywood today, don’t you think?

    Reply

    • willowdot21
      Mar 27, 2012 @ 19:29:39

      Yes we have learnt nothing, Death still talks the many battle fields of this world, he must be tired he has never ceased since man first picked up a rock in anger! As for George yes she could teach a good few Hollywood,wives and husbands a lessen in tight lips!

      Reply

  3. rumpydog
    Mar 27, 2012 @ 20:32:29

    I love Yeats’ work. My favorite poem is The Lake Isle of Innisfree. A masterpiece.

    I may be jaded, but I of a mind to think that premature death will be a reality of this world. It always has been, and most likely always will be.

    Reply

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