This Poem was Submitted By: Frank J Glynn On Date: 2003-09-24 21:54:41 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Pilgrims Prospect

He has seen the fireworks and the ups and downs, He’s done the torture and the ecstasy and lived the route. The climax at the end was waited for and when it came, tears flooded. And when the wanderer’s clothes were burned at the shore,  The past lost its touch and all that would ever be left would be Memory. But now what is to be done, as he re-traces his steps,  Facing the way he came, all the old struggles in front of him: The debt and the arguments and the unforgiving children; The crops waiting and the solitude. And all the hay that still waits to be cut. No-one back home understands what he wanted His aims and dreams that surfaced on the pilgrimage. That were the taunts and bullying and the laughing at home. Dare he keep the shells?  How can he live now as he steps back over the mountains, Jealous of the anticipation in the face of the others still going forward. He has heard that some just carry on, looking for new routes,  collecting new shells. You see, like him, they could not face the return journey. They diverted their lives and turned again to the clam shell And the prayer and the walking away.

Copyright © September 2003 Frank J Glynn


This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2003-10-03 09:01:12
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.48649
Poet, nicely structured piece with good word flow and thus images allowing each reader to seek and find within the lines what he or she is meant to see....we have all travelled certain roads in life and perhaps some of us might regret a few taken and perhaps no one wants to retrace the steps we have already walked but look in different directions in finding our way. Your reference to the Pilgrim gives me thought of a new journey from one place to the next and is done well poet.....perhaps you also give reference to war time as one can also see and feel the emotions involved with that part of life as well... Your word flow kept blending thus the flow kept moving in the right direction and the punctuation used also aided in the read. Actually, most of this read reminds me of a friend who served in Viet Nam and how his journey home was the beginning of his personal struggle with a nation that did not want him home....sad, very sad for in his heart he served his country as well as he could......Again, thanks for posting, for sharing this with us, You be safe my friend and God Bless, Claire


This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2003-10-03 08:42:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.57143
Frank you have done a marvelous job with this poem and as I read it the realization came that we are all wanderers picking up shells. None of us want to retrace the steps we have already walked but look in different directions in finding our way. Using the Pilgrim as the tool to get the point across was excellent for you gave us the birth of this nation and what it requires us to do move forward yet remember the task already completed. The flow was nicely done that I did not focus on the structure for it blended into your words. This is one of the few poems that I will say that the punctuation work well in keeping it together. Excellent. Well done. Thanks for sharing. Tom
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2003-09-26 13:37:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.95000
Dear Frank: I await new poems from you (or those I have not yet read) with anticipation. They are always rich with meaning, and offer me a view of life which I would not otherwise encounter. This one's cadence seems written with an 'andante' tempo. And at times, I imagine I can hear Beethoven's "Tempest" with the subject's intense re-tracing of steps. I believe that this poem invites inner dialogue, and rather than deconstructing or attempting to make suggestions for revision (which I do not believe it needs) I offer my responses. He has seen the fireworks and the ups and downs, He’s done the torture and the ecstasy and lived the route. The climax at the end was waited for and when it came, tears flooded. And when the wanderer’s clothes were burned at the shore, The past lost its touch and all that would ever be left would be Memory. The phrase "lived the route" encompasses so much of living; this is a man who has experienced much or most of what life has to offer. Internal rhymes are eloquent and terse, as "end/when." The imagery which suggests itself with "wanderer's clothes. . .burned at the shore" is of a ritual burning of clothing for someone who has visited 'foreign lands' where plague and pestilence may persist on one's clothing, so that a returning seafarer could be purified in a sense by the burning of clothes. In this instance, perhaps the sojourner was 'cleansed' of all "the past" to live with only the remnant of "Memory." But now what is to be done, as he re-traces his steps, Facing the way he came, all the old struggles in front of him: The debt and the arguments and the unforgiving children; The crops waiting and the solitude. And all the hay that still waits to be cut. No-one back home understands what he wanted His aims and dreams that surfaced on the pilgrimage. That were the taunts and bullying and the laughing at home. Poignant assonance in "Facing/way/came/re-traces." A walking tempo, indeed. All that the wayfarer left behind awaits him, "all the old struggles" and "debt and the arguments" and saddest, "the unforgiving children." We see him as having fled "taunts and bullying and laughing at home." If one cannot find safe harbor at home, where one's physical and spiritual self are meant to be protected, one's "aims and dreams" nurtured, where can such a man find peace, this poem seems to ask. "Dare he keep the shells?" As symbols of his journey, where "aims and dreams" surfaced? His "shell" within this "pilgrimage" where he could close off from the outer world? Is it time for him to enter into a more active period once more, attending to the "crops" and "all the hay" ? Shells can also connote emptiness. Was he, in returning, an "empty shell"? At least, the shells could be proof to himself that he had once experienced something else, as well as a time where his "aims and dreams" could safely surface. But would the reminder lead him to leave again -- How can he live now as he steps back over the mountains, Jealous of the anticipation in the face of the others still going forward. Are the mountains here symbolizing 'attainable' goals, such as baled hay, good crops? Or do the mountains represent spiritually uplifting experiences, which he must now renounce to take up mundane tasks once more? He has 'been and gone' and comes back disillusioned, our wayfarer. He has heard that some just carry on, looking for new routes, collecting new shells. You see, like him, they could not face the return journey. They diverted their lives and turned again to the clam shell And the prayer and the walking away. In thinking about the "clam shell" I wonder if there is an allusion to "clamming up" or not talking of his inmost dreams in the presence of those who scoff. It seems he could not communicate his truth, and perhaps had secrets he could share with no one. This solitary man considers the option of "walking away" and the contemplative life of prayer. In any event, this is a deeply thoughtful, somewhat mournful poem of self-examination for which I am grateful. I hope I have not gone too far afield of your intent for this piece. Thank you for this immensely thoughtful piece and the opportunity to offer comment, once more. Bravo! All my best, Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Irene E Fraley On Date: 2003-09-25 20:36:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.41667
I can picture this man, having left everything in the everyday, pragmatic, progress oriented world to search for his dream. After he has left it all and found what he searched for it is hard to give up the dream to face the world of "reality" again. He envies those still on the search, and re-joins the searchers. This reads very smoothly, the images are clear. I don't have a clue what the clam shell represents, but it seemed to me as I read this poem, that the right to pursue your dream without being denigrated is important. Is the clam shell worth losing the respect of your children? To some, yes. Is the subject someone who cannot deal with real like? Perhaps. I don't see how one could change this poem. The tone that is established through the use of long lines and a lyrical rhythem is what makes the poem so interesting, even if one doesn't understand it well. The sound of it is good. I did wonder about "no-one". Was there a particular reason it was written this way? I liked this. Rene Fraley
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2003-09-25 10:03:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.93333
Amazing poem, Frank. . The title itself, which seems a lampoon of Pilgrim’s Progress, sets us up on this compelling journey back through a contemplated life He has seen the fireworks and the ups and downs, He’s done [love this verb here] the torture and the ecstasy and lived the route. The climax at the end was waited for and when it came, tears flooded. That phrase is a little awkward – perhaps At the end, the awaited climax came, and still , tears flooded And when the wanderer’s clothes were burned at the shore, The past lost its touch and all that would ever be left would be Memory. Nabokov suggested this in his novel,“Speak Memory,” and Kant said that “at the end we are all only a collection of our memories – this says it more concisely…wonderful phrasemaking. But now what is to be done, as he re-traces his steps, Facing the way he came, all the old struggles in front of him: Going back – we must relive not only the joys but the pains of the past…yes. The debt[s] and the arguments and the unforgiving children; Very vivid – and powerful The crops waiting and the solitude. And all the hay that still waits to be cut.[Wonderful] No-one back home understands what he wanted To be constant – either: Understood what he wanted Or Understands what he wants His aims and dreams that surfaced on the pilgrimage. That were the taunts and bullying and the laughing at home. [great!} Dare he keep the shells? Reminds me – but not in a derivative way of – Eliot’s – “do I dare to eat a peach- do I dare disturb the universe?” How can he live now as he steps back over the mountains, Somehow that phrase puts me in mine of Emily Dickinson with her carriage and the “horses faces turned toward eternity” Jealous of the anticipation in the face of the others still going forward. “Jealous” is not quite a comprehensive enough word for me here. – he has gained knowledge in his journey and he knows they will be where he is one day and along the way – faced with the same pains. Is there a word that suggests an emotion that is envious, wistful and/or reflective and the same time burdened with wisdom? Perhaps not. Perhaps Jealousy really is the right word. What a complex philosophical piece this is! He has heard that some just carry on, looking for new routes, collecting new shells. You see, like [he], they could not face the return journey. They diverted their lives and turned again to the clam shell Yes, that closed mollusk, self contained and innocent of reflection. Wonderful poem Frank.
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