Keep up the great work on your "Golden Shovel" poems! I've enjoyed reading them and am struck by how uncanny it is that these phrases and sentences of Fitzgerald's have pushed you to generate poems that obliquely or directly address characters, ideas, and symbols in the novel.
Nick of Time
ReplyDeleteafter Fitzgerald
Only in the early morning do
birdsongs alarm you
from dreams that are always
just past remembering. You watch
for their blurred edges, for
their maze-like rooms in the
waking minutes that hand you into the longest
hours of the lightest day
yet. Outside the window, in
newly green birch leaves, the
breeze traces paths for the year.
The branches lift and
sink, sway, shiver, shake and then
still. How can you miss
something without ever having known it?
sometimes life is so
ReplyDeleteunexpected that we
decide to blame ourselves and beat
ourselves up over things on
which we had no control, like boats
that go against
the
current
"“So we beat on, boats against the current..." (Fitzgerald)
Thank you for getting us started, Jules! Nicely done. Excellent choice from those famous closing lines.
Delete“Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.” (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteHe will keep reserving
land as he grows, letting judgements
leave his fingertips is
the best way to move on, a
glimpse of prejudice has no matter
in his world, the beauty of
his mind is infinite.
Watch as wishes for the rest of us to give it hope.
"I’ve been everywhere and seen everything and done everything"- Fitzgerald
ReplyDeleteShe said to me I’ve
Done everything I’ve wanted and have been
Trying my hardest to go everywhere
I’ve wanted to, and
I’ve failed because I’ve seen
The most important parts of life but I still feel that everything
Is unclear, and
Its hard to fulfill what I want and to be done
When I have to try and tell myself that nothing is everything
“Breathing dreams like air”
ReplyDeleteShe will keep breathing
as she follows her dreams
that she achieves with flair like
the birds that fly through the air
"So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight."- Fitzgerald
ReplyDeleteFate is set- or at least it seems so
Moving on silently we
Passed through backroads as we drove
Still, we must move on
With no idea of what we move toward
The only given being death
A path all go through
Ignore it for the
Feeling of security but the air keeps cooling
As we sink into the twilight
Evan Bak
“I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life” (Fitzgerald).
ReplyDeleteIt was I
who was
lost. It was I who searched within
to find myself and
I did it without
the help of others. Simultaneously,
some felt enchanted
to know what was going on and
I repelled
them like flies by
waving them away in the
most inexhaustible
way. Why is there a variety
of
people who must know about everything going on in my life?
“There was a faint, barely perceptible movement of the water as the fresh flow from one end made its way towards the drain at the other” (Fitzgerald/Nick).
ReplyDeleteThere
is so much water here. Fact. Was
there none once and what could a
writer use for metaphors then? Metaphors scare me as a member of the faint
of heart, members of which include the barely
developed sparrow that fell from its bush in 2013, perceptible
in its cries but not in its movement.
Of
course, I supposed the
pool was important bc water
is the beginning. As
he showed us, it can also be the
end. Fresh
water from Vernal Falls runs in a flow
too strong for the daring. Each year, a few fall from
the top. Don’t be one
of those people meeting their end
bc they made
one stupid idea real. Back to this part of the novel, its
ending, at least I had thought it was. The way
Nick is I didn’t think there’d be more when his focus got shot. I reach out towards
that last line like the
green light but the effort is a drain...
At
The
Other
“It was a cold fall day with fire in the room and her cheeks flushed”(Fitzgerald 160).
ReplyDeleteDid you hear about it?
Do you know what it was?
Rumor has it that a
summer dream was abandoned in the cold.
Faster than the leaves fall
on an autumn day,
it was over. He was alone with
his thoughts. Like how a flame becomes fire
in an instant. Like a scene in
the movies, when the
danger lurks in a crowded dark room.
It trapped him and
he still only dreamt of her.
The memory of her rosy cheeks
drowned, yet remains frozen in time: flushed.
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past”(189).
ReplyDeletePoetry is hard to write. So
much depends on how we
articulate our ideas, if we beat
around the bush, or just go head on.
We can choose to use metaphors, like comparing a boat
to a life, and we can go against
the flow of the
poem purposefully, to make the reader think about how a current
drags you this way and that, with a ferocity borne
by dark sadness. It yanks the boat back
and forth, ceaselessly,
taking the boat with it into
the depths of the
ocean, forcing the boat out of the present and into the past.
“Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope.”
ReplyDeleteF. Scott Fitzgerald
We sit in our houses, Reserving
our judgements.
This is
Always a
Challenge, No matter
How aware we think we are of
Other people and the infinite
Problems they face. We must do better than hope.
“So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight.” 145
ReplyDeleteAnd then so
Despite the fears we
felt, we still drove
as our minds raced on
and spun toward
the fear of inevitable death
But staring up at the night sky, the fear passed through
The feeling of the
Afterglow from the stars and moon was calm and cooling
And all the worries that were once there melted into the twilight
I never thought we
ReplyDeleteWould be at this place when I went
Inside and Upstairs.
Through and through?
A period
In bedrooms...
Some of our brains swathed
in
Thorn and some in rose.
Time and
Energy of lavender;
But seemingly silk
and
Remotely vivid
Pictures from far away with--
Oddly new
Green Flowers?
Myself Through
The green dressings.
My room
Through myself and
Online Poolrooms.
Habitat closed and
Sunny bathrooms
with
Sun Rays only from dust sunken
From who-knows-when-Baths.
Ding dong intruding
Me into
Just another one
Of these meaningless stone chambers...
I know where
a
dishevelled
man
Like me needs to be. In
pajamas?
No. that was
My doing.
Chopped liver?
NO! My brain exercises
on
A tree in the
Woods. My floor.
“His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one” (Fitzgerald, 100)
ReplyDeleteThe day when he could call her His
Down to that day he would count
The love he held for her was of
such a power under which he was enchanted
He had filled his house with a multitude of objects
Objects that he thought if he had
the ties she held to her other life would be diminished
But this dream had already passed by
and now he is alone, left as one.
“It takes two to make an accident.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
ReplyDeleteShe said to me, how was it
I said he takes
And then two
More come out of nowhere to
Do the same and make
Me feel like an
Alien and I realize it wasn't an accident.
"Most of the time I worked" (61)
ReplyDeleteafter Fitzgerald
I've been wondering about what I like to do most,
What new skill I could aquire, what type of
trick I shoudl learn. But the
days go by so fast, I'm asking myself what have I been doing during all of this time
I am alive, aren't I
But I still don't do much and it turns out nothing worked
Zoe Rigoulot
“But all this part of it seemed remote and unessential” (Fitzgerald 164).
ReplyDeleteI tried to forget but
I still remember it all.
Mostly I remember this:
The last part
The finale of
The whole of it
To them it seemed
Acceptable, for I was remote.
They didn’t see me as human and
I too, thought I was unessential.
"'Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall" (Fitzgerald 118).
ReplyDeleteEverything has changed and life
as we know it starts
to be a new experience for all.
It might seem like everything is over,
but it is time again
for us to determine when
we will do something to change it,
that feeling that gets
us needing crisp,
fresh air in
So now is the
time where we must not fall.
"You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock"(Fitzgerald, 99)
ReplyDeleteIt’s a wonder how I run away with you
On these burnished days like always
You gamble with what you already have
And you always come home with that wine stained “A”
Scratched onto your face, but you took me to Tavern on the Green
And I thought I could let you hide from the light
For a day or two more because of that
No wonder why it burns
I remember that Autumn when I had it all
Figured out and curled up with the night
And I still left him to wherever his heart was at
I can’t say I made the
Right choice to let it end
If I don’t know the machination of
Your mind, but there’s no way to know if your
heart would let the green flicker at the end of the dock.
Page 161
ReplyDeleteNick reflecting on Gatsby
Credit: F. Scott Fitzgerald
“Cabbages are beautiful” said he.
I was also told “To see a cabbage is a must.”
“We have
many cabbages” he said as we looked
I decided from then that my relationships with cabbages could only go up.
But when I looked for myself I did not understand what I was looking at.
It was an
experience so different from what he had told me it could be described as unfamiliar.
I thought perhaps that cabbages are ever changing like the sky.
Perhaps it was a phase it was going through.
Perhaps the answer is more frightening.
My dreams of loving cabbages where like leaves.
They were blindingly green and
just like leaves shivered.
However, I learned that as
I learn about cabbages, I learn that they are different from was said about them from he.
I knew nothing about them is what I had found.
I never knew what
a horrible thing a
cabbage could be or that it could be grotesque.
However, I learned a thing.
We all make assumptions about cabbages like a
plant that we find pretty such as a rose.
I wonder what a cabbage really is.
- Seiyoung Jang
“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald (86)
ReplyDeleteIn a poem there
are
the words only
that the
poet pursues
then the
reader tries pursuing
an understanding to the
words. Your mind busy
across the page and
working as the
meaning makes you tired.
"... rain cooled about half-past three to a damp mist" (90). -Fitzgerald
ReplyDeletestormy weather rain
breezes cooled
didn't know what is was about
but that was only half
looking to the past
but it was only three
no where to go to
starting at a
and leaving behind the damp
there was only mist.
"My voice seemed unnaturally loud across the garden." (Fitzgerald 46-47)
ReplyDeleteI could hear it in my
Head, a cryptic voice
That seemed
So unnaturally
Real and loud.
A breeze swept across
Where I’d been standing, as the
Shadow crept into the garden.
"Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away" (Fitzgerald).
ReplyDeleteAt the end of the night, you left me angry,
With a plummeting feeling in my stomach and
A need to cry. If you knew half
Of what I felt, you wouldn't believe in
The things you told me. Longing for love
And feeling lost with
You by my side. With her
Advice in my mind and
Confusion about my life, I debate tremendously
The direction of my fate. I'm sorry
I left so abruptly, but I
Needed to run. That's why I turned
And slowly walked away.
“You can’t repeat the past? Why of course you can!” Fitzgerald
ReplyDeleteThey really haven’t thought about You
With their feeble minds of course Can’t,
Their lives are played on Repeat.
Without knowledge it is typical that The
Average person will repeat the past.
It isn’t hard to see why.
Why would I look up from my plate, Of
Food that I worked for, to see that your Course
Isn’t there? I’m focused on my plate. Foolishly thinking I’m not harming You.
But I can change, we can change. I really believe we can.
“The touch of a cluster of leaves revolved it slowly, tracing, like the leg of compass, a thin red circle in the water” (Fitzgerald, 173)
ReplyDeleteUnder the fading crystal skies, so bright yet uneasy, the
Oxford man traveled through much, yearning to touch
his glimmer of youth and hope, something of
much blissful oblivion. However, his plans are a
waste. It has become nothing but a cluster
of scorn dreams and efforts. In the end of
time, like the withered leaves
that pass by, he wished his life revolved
around hers earlier. Oh the joy it
would’ve brought, dancing slowly
under candle-lit lights, tracing
her hand under his arm, like
it was all meant to be. But the
abandonment she chose, hurt like his leg
shot in mourn, and of
all events in his life, this was when a compass
was needed to steer through a
detour of strife, an escape through thin
ice, cold and deadly, but warm like red
fires engulfing the circle
of life. By doing so, in
seconds, he had reached the
sky and did not look back at his reflection above the water.
“You may fool me but you can't fool God.” 170
ReplyDeleteLook at you,
You may
Try to act like a fool
And try to trick me,
But
I know you.
I can’t
Try and act a fool
To God.
“I’m p-paralyzed with happiness” (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteThose dreams of yours that I’m
Trying to fulfill, but that betrayal made me p-paralyzed.
Now I am unable to get over with
The memories that we’ve build with happiness.
"My own face had now assumed a deep tropical burn." (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteI have a family and my
pet monkey which I own
but he ate my family's face
so I had
to put him down for now
I assumed
that a
lake is deep
but the tropical
gingerbread bird was left in the oven to burn
im not good at poems
"You can't repeat the past." - Nick (Fitzgerald, 118)
ReplyDeleteTime moves around you.
You can see it. No, you can’t.
Maybe someday you won’t feel the need to repeat.
Mistakes are for learning. The
past has already past*.
*Read out in the same pronunciation as "passed"
-Cameron Gurwell
“I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity.” (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteHe and I
What it could’ve become if I wasn’t
So sad and confused, actually.
To fall so hard in,
A confusing spiral of love
Without a doubt, but
What is life without the I
How can we feel like we felt
Endless turns around a
Road with no sort
Of end. The end of
The road is a tender
Love, filled with boundless curiosity.
“ We drove on toward death through the cooling twilight” (Fitzgerald).
ReplyDeleteFriendship was We
As we celebrated the day and Drove
We drove seemingly on and On
Until we saw a sign labeled Toward
We assumed it meant toward home, but little did we know it meant Death
We drove Through
Unafraid of The
Unknown and the Cooling
Night Twilight
“personality is an unbroken series of successful gestures” (Fitzgerald 4)
ReplyDeleteThey tell me of a personality
That suits a person of stature but I’m not clear on what it is
A specific demeanor a social behavior an
Attitude that one must possess to be unbroken
In a broken society so I agree and commit to a series
Of blurring confusing events that I can’t identify with it’s something of
Class they say but do I need it to feel successful?
But they say the way I feel matters not so my question is are these the right gestures?
“Can’t repeat the past?…Why of course you can!” (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteI think Can’t
Is word worth not to Repeat
It reveals, The
obstacles that we face, in the Past?
I wonder Why
Oh why Im thinking Of
The present of Course
To believe in you
To believe in yourself, you can.
“There are only the pursued, pursuing, the busy, and the tired” (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteThose who try never get there
Maybe those who don't, are
Only
The
Ones who can escape the constant chase of being pursued
Of pursuing
The
Relentless life of the busy
The life of the tormented and
The
Perpetually tired
"And all the time something within her was crying for a decision"(159). (Fitzgerald)
ReplyDeleteShe was as restless as a summer storm And
many wished for her to settle down into a clear blue sky but All
of her energy could not be tied down and The
days passed and with Time
heads began to turn away from her towards Something
more promising and more submissive and something Within
panicked. She wanted to be praised and admired. Her
turmoil was a tornado no one cared to watch. She Was
slipping into the background as she was Crying
out for a way to be marveled at For
just a little longer. She allowed herself to be grounded for A
Lifetime. And she was ruined by that Decision
“So I walked away, and left him standing there in the moonlight — watching over nothing” Fitzgerald 156
ReplyDeleteOur luck, it must be so
That you, our friends and I
Where we together should have walked,
Must stay away, alive. And
yet, it is what we have left:
Protecting him
Keeping her standing.
Until we hàve reached there,
plateaus to safely land in.
We are in the,
the moonlight
Of a sunny hope watching
Until it’s over
Let’s be afraid of nothing
I tried to make it kinda rhyme the first two stanzas, but oh well.
“It takes two to make an accident””(Fitzgerald 64).
ReplyDeleteI can’t stop it,
But no matter what it takes
We will always be two
Never to
Die and always to make
The better of it, even though it started as an
accident.
A person had a dream. He
ReplyDeletetried to get it through low means. In the ideal world, he did
just that, not
caring about how others felt, as if he did not know
or comprehend such feelings; it was for this that
his plan did not work; it
caused his purpose in life to decay, and after a while his daily schedule was
made of constant rumination; by the time it took a toll on him, he had already
developed disease, and fell behind
life, as the damage he had done to others would haunt him
"He did not know that it was already behind him..." (189)
“So the whole caravansary had fallen in like a card house…” (Pg. 114)
ReplyDeleteShe was sitting so,
Looking at the
People around the whole
Place, gathered like in a caravansary
And she found that things had
Changed, that the illusion had fallen
And that she was no longer in
The hot summer days 5 years ago like
She had imagined. A
Tear fell from her eye at the unlucky card
And she slowly turned away from the grand house.
"Of course she might have loved him, just for a minute"(162)
ReplyDeleteTo him, it was unheard of
That fate may change its course
And he couldn't believe that she
Was no longer the girl he met and this might
Have shown him that she wasn't for him to have
But, still she's the one he loved
And that was more than enough for him
To him it felt just
Something worth struggling for
A man who wanted to relive his past for just a
Minute
Jona Lehmann
ReplyDelete“Americans, while occasionally willing to be serfs, have always been obstinate about being peasantry.”
pg. 93, said by Nick (not in dialogue but as narration)
We the People are Americans
We have known all the while
it is vital, occasionally,
whether reluctant or willing,
to indulge the imagination, to
pretend we know what is is to be
Lord. We are reminded that we are serfs
When we open our eyes to what we don’t have
We are grasping, always
For we have been
told by our perpetually satiated yet obstinate
and hungry overlords that we must keep stumbling about,
for the only thing worse than being
chained by serfdom is being liberated as peasantry.
“So I walked away and left him standing there in the moonlight—watching over nothing” (156)
ReplyDeleteWhat good comes at night? So
Many stars twinkling, I
Watch with wonder. The Sun walked
Out of the sky, away
From the sky and
From the Moon. It left
the sky, leaving him,
the majestic Moon, powerfully standing.
In the darkness of night there
Could be shadowy secrets hiding in
Plain sight, in disguise of the
Blackness. But I know moonlight
Is gazing, watching
The night earth, looking over,
Ensuring here, danger is nothing.
-Oliver
Then there were bloody towels upon the bathroom floor, and women’s voices scolding, and high over the confusion a long broken wail of pain. (Fitzgerald, pg. 37)
ReplyDeleteFor those who are young, then
Is not a real time, there
Is not a real place. For those who are old, memories are all that were
Left of the ordeal, bloody
Bodies left scattered over the wastes, towels
A fond remembrance among the dirt and ash, which laid thick upon
The skin, clinging to the
Throat, children painted as men begging for a bathroom
Because their lives were no longer worth begging for. The young who are now old writhed on that floor,
And the old who are now dead simply dug in and wept, and
The dead who are still dead ascended among the angelic tones of women’s
Song, the hell below muddled up in their beautiful voices.
The officers kept up their scolding,
In some feeble hope to mask the same suffering they shared with the men, and
The men kept up their listening, as to ignore the deafening screaming of shells high
In the sky, which had long since passed over
Their heads, but rattled in the
Men’s skulls as if they had been trapped in a vial with no hole to escape from. confusion
Was little more than an excuse, as all who were there knew that what had happened was inevitable, a
Singular occurrence mirroring hundreds of others, coating the land with a long
Black night, one that could only be broken
By the bells of victory. But there were no bells. Not for a long while yet. The only sound that remained was the wail
Of the not-yet-gone, of
The bodies in the mud whose souls had escaped them, leaving the very simple phenomenon of pain.