July 8, 2006
Life after Life's End
Vous jammais menerez si vous cherchez continuellement pour le sens de la vie sans la menez.*
-Albert Camus
-No one seems to understand-
she said to the mechanical butler.
She reached for a cigarette,
but remembered that the nanochip
implant replaced them long ago.
She pushed a button and felt the
rush of nicotene...
But, somehow it wasn't the same.
She tried to argue, cry, something
to remind her she was alive.
But the butler looked at her as if
she had lost her mind.
Trapped in her science fiction utopia,
she pouted like a little girl whose
wish never came true.
Completely dissatisfied, she turned off the computer
and leaped into what remained of the field of daisies.
*Translated back into French from the English. (Wikiquote.fr was being shut down, grrrr!) Loosely translated: "You will never live if you continually search for the meaning of life without living it."
Posted by EvanReynolds at July 8, 2006 3:35 PM
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Comments
Offended? Not at all! I found it interesting that a desire for nicotene — which has natural, botanical origins, but which is of course highly processed in commerical cigarettes — is part of the pastoral vision of this poem.
It really did make me think, and I missed not seeing that return in the conclusion of the poem.
Posted by: Dennis G. Jerz at July 8, 2006 8:31 PM
I wrote this mainly for myself. I have friends who think I need to get off the computer, out of the books, etc. and start living. I started to find value in what they were saying, though I don’t always agree with existentialism. (Make my own meaning? You mean, I can’t search for it?!)
I hope I didn’t offend you. I just meant to show the existentialist idea that no one is ever satisfied with life until they just live it. I thought the symbols of robots (reason) and daisies (pure emotion) would set up a contrast that would capture this idea.
I guess it didn’t work :(
Posted by: Evan at July 8, 2006 7:55 PM
Hmm… I like the set-up, but because the final line delivers exactly what I expected of a poem on this subject, I’m not sure I feel satisfied.
It’s not necessary to have an army of robots pursue her into the daisy field, but based on what we know of the protagonist, maybe what she really wants at this point is the discarded cigarette butt she finds in the mud behind the patch of daisies.
Okay, okay, maybe I’m just being defensive of our new robotic overlords — which means your poem struck a nerve. Er.. struck a wire.
Posted by: Dennis G. Jerz at July 8, 2006 5:33 PM