Poetry

I found it very hard to make just one choice when it came to choosing a poem, as am I’m such a great fan of poetry… some international Poets that we don not hear a lot of but I find interesting are Kabīr and Rabindranath Tagore .

Rabindranath Tagore
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941), was a Bengali poet, Brahmo Samaj philosopher, visual artist, playwright, novelist, and composer whose works reshaped Bengali literature and music in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He became Asia's first Nobel laureate when he won the 1913 Nobel Prize in Literature.

Kabīr (1440—1518) was one of the poet sants of India
His greatest work is the Bijak. This collection of poems demonstrates Kabir's own universal view of spirituality. His verses, which being illiterate he never expressed in writing, often began with some strongly worded insult to get the attention of passers-by.

The Poem I choose to do my project on is called “Concert at the end of the world” by Concordia professor Jason E. Lewis:


People were going by, black mud on their pants
The orange-turning sky was disappearing fast
Jackie, Robbie and me sat at a tumbling down table
smoking jackfruit and eating cigarettes
watching the unending line of clowns, dictators and friends
we had brought billy jean's big bad boat but it proved too hard to handle
so we had ditched it way back in the dukes black moat and went on with only a candle

I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can hear this dream calling to me in my head
I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can know of this dream walking 'round inside my head

we got up from the table as well as we were able
and followed five ballet dancers down into the valley of the lost
we weren't really concerned with the dead because we'd already paid the cost
Jackie, he was an airman, lost his plane and crew off the coast
Robbie, he was a beggar, had lived with the dying more often than most
And me, I'm just a poet trying to sell my muddied skin
For a little bit of jackfruit and some advice on where to begin.

I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can hear this dream calling to me in my head
I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can know of this dream walking 'round inside my head

there was music down in the valley, thumping hard and fast
we tried to hurry along, sure that it wouldn't last
but we got held up at the quarry by the screams of Mary
who'd been tied up deep under the water
we dove down for her and she disappeared like the Pharaoh's daughter
when we came up again the music was getting louder
and we began walking again, colder, older and sadder

I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can hear this dream calling to me in my head
I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can know of this dream walking 'round inside my head

We didn't want to be here, and yet we did.
We'd all crawled out from under rocks where monsters lived.
We didn't know how to handle the bright reality of it all
And we didn't know how to handle the beauty of the music's call.
Jackie, he was a lover, but hadn't known a woman in a long, long time
Robbie, he was a family man, but spent most of his life in line
And me, I'm just waiting, waiting for somebody to tell me
it will all be fine.

I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can hear this dream calling to me in my head
I know I'm supposed to meet somebody but everybody else is here instead
And nobody else can know of this dream walking 'round inside my head

Nobody else can know of this dream walking around inside my head.