A Massive Watchmen Post

[eugenetapdance.livejournal.com]

Hey guys. I'm Eugene, one of the mods. Here's a post I made back when we were still debating starting this comm. It's all Watchmen, as the comm seems to be for a start, but I suppose we'll expand later.



The below poem is secretly about the horrible end of Dan and Rorschach's hilarious awkward bromance.

There Are Some Men

There are some men
who should have mountains
to bear their names to time.

Grave markers are not high enough
or green,
and sons go far away
to lose the fist
their father’s hand will always seem.

I had a friend:
he lived and died in mighty silence
and with dignity,
left no book son or lover to mourn.

Nor is this a mourning-song
but only a naming of this mountain
on which I walk,
fragrant, dark and softly white
under the pale of mist.
I name this mountain after him.


Leonard Cohen

---

This next poem is one of my favorites of all time. I think it's suitable for Watchmen in many ways, most notably its overall tone of faith in the worth of human life despite all its flaws. I also love that the poet chooses "mutilated" as an adjective rather than "flawed" or something like that. It carries such an overtone of violence.

Try to Praise the Mutilated World

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June's long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You've seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.


Adam Zagajewski

---

The below is a snarky Adrian megalomania poem. Oh yes.

The Wrong Man

They locked up a man
who wanted to rule the world
The fools
They locked up the wrong man


Leonard Cohen

---

Adrian misses Bubastis. Eugene appropriates poetry for this. Is there such a thing as crack fandom poetry? I THINK I HAVE INVENTED IT. Srsly though think of lonely post-apocalypse Adrian all by himself without his mutant purple kitty. So sad! On a more serious note, I do think this poem captures the oddness of Adrian's guilt at killing Bubastis. (We never see him express distress over killing millions, but we do get a very immediate view of his grief for the cat.)

I Miss My Dear Cats

My water-colored hands are catless now
seated here alone in the dark
my window-shaped head is bowed with sad draperies
I am catless near death almost
behind me my last cat hanging on the wall
dead of my hand drink bloated
And on all my other walls from attic to cellar
my sad life of cats hangs


Gregory Corso

---

And a little more Corso, because he works very well for the Comedian. In the below poem, please observe Eddie being a cynic. He does it so well.

But I Do Not Need Kindness

1

I have known the strange nurses of Kindness,
I have seen them kiss the sick, attend the old,
give candy to the mad!
I have watched them, all night, dark and sad,
rolling wheelchairs by the sea!
I have known the fat pontiffs of Kindness,
the little old grey-haired lady,
the neighborhood priest,
the famous poet,
the mother,
I have known them all!
I have watched them, at night, dark and sad,
pasting posters of mercy
on the stark posts of despair.

2

I have known Almighty Kindness Herself!
I have sat beside Her pure white feet,
gaining Her confidence!
We spoke of nothing unkind,
but one night I was tormented by those strange nurses,
those fat pontiffs,
The little old lady rode a spiked car over my head!
The priest cut open my stomach, put his hands in me,
and cried:--Where's your soul? Where's your soul!--
The famous poet picked me up
and threw me out of the window!
The mother abandoned me!
I ran to Kindness, broke into Her chamber,
and profaned!
with an unnamable knife I gave Her a thousand wounds,
and inflicted them with filth!
I carried Her away, on my back, like a ghoul!
down the cobble-stoned night!
Dogs howled! Cats fled! All windows closed!
I carried Her ten flights of stairs!
Dropped Her on the floor of my small room,
and kneeling beside Her, I wept. I wept.

3

But what is Kindness? I have killed Kindness,
but what is it?
You are kind because you live a kind life.
St. Francis was kind.
The landlord is kind.
A cane is kind.
Can I say people, sitting in parks, are kinder?


Gregory Corso

---

And yet more Corso! Because he is good for describing Eddie, Laurie, and Sally. This poem works beautifully for the Eddie/Sally relationship.

The Crime

Into a burning animal his crime
raged its embittered stealth of humanness
and shook a young girl's laughter
with a deafening rush of animal-blood

Together they ate a rose
and together they dried their tongues
upon the ashes and remaining bits of fur

They loved and loved
until their eyes fell within them
and their faces fell away


Gregory Corso

---

So this next poem is about Rorschach's death scene. Granted, Derek Mahon probably didn't know that when he wrote it, BUT IT'S STILL TRUE.

Antarctica

"I am just going outside and may be some time."
The others nod, pretending not to know.
At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime.

He leaves them reading and begins to climb,
Goading his ghost into the howling snow;
He is just going outside and may be some time.

The tent recedes beneath its crust of rime
And frostbite is replaced by vertigo:
At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime.

Need we consider it some sort of crime,
This numb self-sacrifice of the weakest? No,
He is just going outside and may be some time

In fact, for ever. Solitary enzyme,
Though the night yield no glimmer there will glow,
At the heart of the ridiculous, the sublime.


Derek Mahon

---

Another of my favorites. The below is a Minutemen poem, certainly certainly. I think of Captain Metropolis, specifically, but that is partly because my love for canon S&M gays knows no bounds.

Animals

Have you forgotten what we were like then
when were were still first rate
and the day came fat with an apple in its mouth

it’s no use worrying about Time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned some sharp corners

the whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn’t need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water

I wouldn’t want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me O you
were the best of all my days


Frank O'Hara

---

And more of the New York School of poetry, because to me they're the Minutemen era. James Schuyler, without knowing it, frequently wrote poetry about Nelson Gardner and Rolf Müller. Go figure.


The Dark Apartment

Coming from the deli
a block away today I
saw the UN building
shine and in all the
months and years I’ve
lived in this apartment
I took so you and I
would have a place to
meet I never noticed
that it was in my view.

I remember very well
the morning I walked in
and found you in bed
with X. He dressed
and left. You dressed
too. I said, “Stay
five minutes.” You
did. You said, “That’s
the way it is.” It
was not much of a surprise.

Then X got on speed
and ripped off an
antique chest and an
air conditioner, etc.
After he was gone and
you had changed the
Segal lock, I asked
you on the phone, “Can’t
you be content with
your wife and me?” “I’m
not built that way,”
you said. No surprise.

Now, without saying
why, you’ve let me go.
You don’t return my
calls, who used to call
me almost every evening
when I lived in the coun-
try. “Hasn’t he told you
why?” “No, and I doubt he
ever will.” Goodbye. It’s
mysterious and frustrating.

How I wish you would come
back! I could tell
you how, when I lived
on East 49th, first
with Frank and then with John,
we had a lovely view of
the UN building and the
Beekman Towers. They were
not my lovers, though.
You were. You said so.


James Schuyler

Comments

[lozuemir.livejournal.com]

pimples are really annoying, you can kill them using benzoyl peroxide but it will also make your skin red.