Please publish your found poems here.
Once you have published your poem, take some time to read and comment on others' poems. How do they help you understand Meursault? Or why the novel's title is The Stranger? Or the plight of modern man? Or the journey of the absurd hero? Or anything else related to Camus and Absurdism?
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The end.
ReplyDeleteNothing, nothing had the least importance
It was better to burn than to disappear
People were starting on a voyage to a world which had ceased to concern me forever,
Something seemed to break inside
That subtle moment when man glances backward over his life
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart,
The rock is still rolling.
I’d been right.
ReplyDeleteUnconscious, secret calls.
All alike would be condemned
To die
One day. I’d very little time
Left, and I wasn’t going to waste
It on God.
Realize that I’d been happy.
I was still right. I was happy
Still. What difference could they
Make to me? Man glances
Backward over his life. His fate belongs to
Him.
I was always right.
Brink of freedom. There is no higher
Destiny – absurd
Man says yes, a sort of ecstasy
Of joy and rage. Everybody
Has that wish at times.
Slow, persistent breeze, dark sky spangled
With its signs and stars, it is essential to know
The night, the benign indifference of
The universe.
Eyes averted, your heart
Is hardened in rotten
Prayers. One always finds one's burden
Again.
People were starting
ReplyDeleteon a voyage to a world which had ceased to concern me forever.
I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe
and it suddenly restored to its
silence,
the myriad wondering little voices of the earth rose up.
There, in that Home where lives were flickering out, the dusk came as a mournful solace from the dark horizon of my future.
A sort of slow, persistent breeze had been blowing toward me in the bleak, unreal years that I was living through.
I was right
A blind man eager to see who knows that the night has no end,
And yet none of his certainties was worth one strand of a woman’s hair.
I am right
Living as he did,
like a corpse,
he couldn’t even be sure of being alive.
There is no sun ,without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.
I have always been right.
my back to the wall and light was flowing over my forehead
ReplyDeleteIt was in the same order of things
it was better to burn than to disappear
As a condemned man himself, couldn’t he grasp what I meant by that dark wind blowing from my future?
Every man alive was privileged; there was only one class of men, the privileged class
Living as he did, like a corpse, he couldn’t even be sure of being alive
From the dark horizon of my future a sort of slow,
persistent breeze had been blowing
The marvelous peace of the sleepbound summer night flooded through me like a tide.
People were starting on a voyage to a world which had ceased to concern me forever
the dusk came as a mournful solace.
His fate belongs to him
he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols
There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night
This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart
create his own meaning and purpose
ReplyDeletebelieve it
developing
belief in God
A life in which I can remember this life on earth
all that remained to hope
in a sort of ecstasy of joy and rage
being alive
waiting for this present moment
at the foot of the mountain
horizon
His fate belongs to him
personal fate
actions which become his fate
guilty
dark wind blowing from my future
I felt calm again
There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.
ReplyDeleteThe marvelous peace of the sleepbound summer night flooded through me like a tide.
Do you really love these earthly things so very much?
One always finds one's burden again.
I’d been right, I was still right, I was always right.
Every man alive was privileged.
That, all the time, I’d been waiting for this present moment, for that dawn, tomorrow’s or another day’s, which was to justify me.
To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I’d been happy, and that I was happy still.
My fate belongs to me.
For the rest, I knows myself to be the master of my days.
God
ReplyDeleteleave me in peace
At
the foot of the mountain
that great rush of anger had washed me clean
and sterile stars were shining down on my face
not earth or salt
or price or victory
waiting for this present moment, for that dawn, tomorrow’s or another day’s
Just that
persistent breeze
which was to justify me
gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars
suddenly restored to its silence.
I know
it was better to burn than to disappear
a life in which I can remember this life on earth.
the myriad , greet me with howls, returning toward his rock.
wondering with little voices of the earth rise up.
In the universe, the universe
negates the gods and raises rocks
That’s all I want of it.
One must imagine THE END.
Peace in Silence
ReplyDeleteI now had my back to the wall and light
Was flowing over my forehead
I’m sure you’ve often wished
There was an afterlife
One must imagine
I made no reply
Silent joy is contained therein
All the thoughts that had been
Simmering in my brain
My hands were empty
The universe suddenly restored
To its silence
I felt calm again
The absurd man says his efforts will be
ReplyDeleteUnceasing, [and] with death so near, I’m
Ready to
Start life over
Again.
What did it matter?
Every man alive was privileged—
It all came to the same thing in
The end.
The rock is still rolling [and] one always
Finds
One’s burden again.
I’d been happy, I was happy
Still.
It all came to the same thing in the end.
Peace.
Mournful solace.
Inevitable torment [of] a benign indifference to the universe.
Silent joy is contained therein.
The Stranger Found
ReplyDeletefind meaning
enough to fill
the wholly human origin
ready to start life
what did that mean?
One must imagine
opportunity to create
an entire universe in its own
no sun without shadow
be unceasing
the opportunity to give life meaning
silent joy
on the edge of daybreak
all that remained to hope
I laid my heart open
I leave
still rolling
ecstasy of joy and rage
neither sterile nor futile
death that was coming
which he concludes is inevitable
recognition of absurdity
sure about everything,
the universe suddenly restored to its silence
all is well
absurd hero, conscious
ReplyDeletesterile nor futile
meaningless purpose
two sons of the same earth
passions as through his torture
less alone
blind
signs and stars
recognition
natural ability
unique ideals
happy again
gentle indifference of the world
The End of the Stranger and the Myth of Sisyphus
ReplyDeleteHe gazed at me with a sort of sadness
I poured out on him all the thoughts that had been simmering in my brain
I’m on your side, though you don’t realize it
I felt calm again
kiss me
on the brink of freedom,
One always finds one's burden again
he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols
I’d been waiting for this present moment, for that dawn, tomorrow’s or another day’s, which was to justify me
sure of my present life and of the death that was coming
something seemed to break inside me
There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night
when I woke, the stars were shining down on my face
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.
“Your heart is hardenend.”
ReplyDeleteI made no reply.
Meaningless
Absurdity.
“Your heart is hardenend.”
Recognition
I made no reply.
More and more irksome,
Inevitable and despicable.
I was always right.
Nothing, nothing had the least importance and I knew quite well why.
Every man alive was privileged.
His fate belongs to him.
His memory's eye
Glances backward over his life—
A series of unrelated actions which become his fate, created by him, combine…seal his death.
All alike would be condemned to die one day.
“Your heart is hardend.”
I made no reply.
I was sure of myself, sure about everything—
Of my present life and of the death that was coming.
One always finds one's burden again.
How did I picture life after the grave?
People starting on a voyage to a world which had ceased to concern me forever—
Finding meaning in their lives,
Making a fresh start.
For the first time
I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe.
All is well.
The struggle
Is enough to fill a man’s heart.
How did I picture life after the grave?
A life in which I can remember this life on earth.
That is all I want of it.
All is well.
One always finds one's burden again.
ReplyDeleteI’m on your side, though you don’t realize it—because your heart is hardened
Living as he did, like a corpse, he couldn’t even be sure of being alive. It might look as if my hands were empty. Actually, I was sure of myself, sure about everything, far surer than he; sure of my present life and of the death that was coming
I went close up to him and made a last attempt to explain that I’d very little time left, and I wasn’t going to waste it on God.
“No! No! I refuse to believe it. I’m sure you’ve often wished there was an afterlife.”
“Do you really love these earthly things so very much?” he asked in a low voice.
This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile
The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart
At that subtle moment when man glances backward over his life, Sisyphus returning toward his rock, in that slight pivoting he contemplates that series of unrelated actions which become his fate, created by him, combined under his memory's eye and soon sealed by his death.
When I woke, the stars were shining down on my face.
ReplyDeletePeople were starting on a voyage to a world which had ceased to concern me
Forever.
There is no higher destiny.
I’d passed my life in a certain way
And I might have passed it in a different way
Something seemed to break inside me
There is no sun without shadow
And it is essential to know the night.
The dusk came as a mournful solace
That was soon sealed by his death.
It was better to burn than disappear
I laid my heart open
To the benign indifference of the universe
One always finds one’s burden again.
I refuse to believe it.
life is meaningless.
ReplyDeleteembrace opportunity
to give life meaning.
the recognition of absurdity
passionately
your heart is hardened.
the fate he thinks he chooses
his fate belongs to him
the night has no end.
leave me in peace.
I made no reply.
ReplyDeleteI refuse to believe it.
Everybody has that wish at times.
A life in which I can remember this life on earth.
His fate belongs to him.
one of two paths
ReplyDeletelife is meaningless
filling the void with a false purpose
to decide
to think
it is a sort of sadness
your heart is hardened
but everybody has a wish at times
What difference could they make to me
no one in the world
had any right to weep for her
gazing up at the dark sky
the benign indifference of the universe
remained to hope
fate belongs to him
restored to its silence
unconscious innovations from all the faces
There is no sun without shadow
Camus
ReplyDeleteNothing, nothing had the least importance. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. What difference could they make to me, the deaths of others, or a mother’s love, or his God; or the way a man decides to live, the fate he thinks he chooses, since one and the same fate was bound to “choose” not only me but thousands of millions of privileged people who, like him, called themselves my brothers. Surely, surely he must see that? No one, no one in the world had any right to weep for her. And I, too, felt ready to start life all over again.
A blind man eager to see who knows that the night has no end, he is still on the go. The absurd man says yes and his efforts will henceforth be unceasing. The absurd man, when he contemplates his torment, silences all the idols. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.
I’d been happy, and that I was happy still. I was sure of myself, sure about everything, far surer than he; sure of my present life and of the death that was coming. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. Everybody has that wish at times. Every man alive was privileged. “A life in which I can remember this life on earth. That’s all I want of it.”
I’d been happy, and that I was happy still.
It was better to burn than to disappear.
ReplyDeleteI was sure of myself,
sure about everything,
sure of being alive.
The horizon of my future
belongs to me
filling the void with a purpose.
Every man alive was privileged.
The way a man decides to live,
In marvelous peace forever,
Is enough to fill a man's heart.
Starting on a voyage
Heart open to the benign indifference of the universe,
--a precious unit of existence--
All alike would be condemned to die one day.
Jordan---
ReplyDeleteI love your poem! You definately captured the absurdist point of view. That our lives do have finality, but we must make something of them for personal gain. Great job!
Kayla, I liked how you used the line "meaningless purpose" in your poem. Though they are contradictory, it shows that even though our lives may be meaningless when it's all said and done we still have a purpose while we're alive, the purpose simply being, to live.
ReplyDeleteKayla F-
ReplyDeleteI really like all your adjectives that have a really good understanding of all these concepts. Also, it flows really well! Nice job :)
Madison: I really loved your poem, especially the repetition of the line "your heart is hardened. I made no reply". I noticed that you have one of the only poems that ends in a somewhat hopeful tone. Everybody else is despair and "nothing matters". I really liked the contrast in your poem.
ReplyDeleteMadison---
ReplyDeleteYou did a great job expressing the idea that "a hardened heart" can still feel compassion, love, and recognition. one of my favorites!
Chelsea -
ReplyDeleteI really adore the tone of your poem and the style with which you put Camus' words together. "on the brink of freedom,
One always finds one's burden again" is a really powerful statement and truly emphasizes your understanding!
Madison...I like your repetition of "All is well." It makes it seem like the poem is trying to convince the reader that life is all well.
ReplyDeletegazed at me with a sort of sadness
ReplyDeleteDo you really love
earthly things so very much
leave me in peace
refuse to believe
wished there was an afterlife
Everybody has that wish
no more importance than wishing
picture the life
remember this life
That’s all I want
the subject of God
to waste it on God
I shall pray for you.
God
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing how much brilliance is in this class great job everyone!
I really liked melissa's line about starting on a voyage
there is so much imagery here it's crazy
Emily has an awesome poem. The poem seems to really capture the feeling of the absurdism and the absurdity of a conformist society. I think the first stanza really captures the Meursualt thoughts and actions near the end of the novel. I think these new feelings personify the title of the novel, in which Meursualt wants to start life over again as a stranger and an individual.
ReplyDeletelaura-
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your poem. My favorite part was the very last line..."The rock is still rolling". I like how it desribes how life is still going on.
Maria- Your poem is really relatable for me... thanks for sharing it! I especially like the line "Be unceasing." I think it sums up absurdism for me a whole lot. Brilliant!
ReplyDeleteLaura - I like your poem, the last line was my favorite. It reminds me that life keeps going on despite our burdens and fears.
ReplyDeleteMelissa- I like how you broke your poem with the one line into and then two three line stanzas and two four line stanzas. I think that it read very well
ReplyDeleteLaura-
ReplyDeleteI really liked how you began your poem with "The End" and then ended your poem with "The Rock is Still Rolling". It's a really neat way to think about how we often feel it's the end when it's really only merely the beginning. I also like that you chose that last line because it gives the idea that life is still going on past the end of the poem, past the what we think is the real end.
Sally
ReplyDeleteYour poem is amazing! I feel like it really captured Mersault's perspective well and how he sees humanity. It also clearly tells what absurdity is: the struggle with the meaning of life.
Melissa -
ReplyDeleteI love how you began your found poem with such a bold statement, "It was better to burn than to disappear," and then used excellent lines to almost contrast it. The opening is harsh and the following stanzas seem nearly gentle and loving. Great job!
Shauna in response to your poem, I really liked your poem and I think it shows how much you understand Absurdism and Camus. I especially enjoyed your last line which said , "There is no sun without shadow". I think this really sums up Camus and Absurdism really well. There seems to be two extremes and it is all said between the relationship between the sun and the shadow. Well done!
ReplyDeleteMartha,
ReplyDeleteI loved your poem, especially the way that it ended: "one must imagine the end." I felt like that was an interesting approach since Camus seems to argue that the end is inevitable--you added a new twist much like how Camus says "one must imagine Sisyphus happy." Your twist suggests that we should keep the end within our sight and imagine it.
Laura: I really loved how you started your poem with "The End". It really made a statement, especially when you ended your poem with "the rock is still rolling".
ReplyDeleteQuinn... I love the use of your line "everyone has that wish" I think it helped your poem because it showed Meursault's ture wish
ReplyDeleteQuinn -
ReplyDeleteI adore the rhythm of your found poem, and repetition of God, life and wish!
Ty- After reading how the full length of your poem I found that the basis of it (judging from your last line) is no one can judge another's life and one must find their own happiness and be content with it, no matter what anyone else thinks.
ReplyDeleteMadison! I loved your poem, and your repetition of the "made no reply" line. This is such a good representation of Meursault's numbness, but it's his numbness that gives him joy. His heart IS hardened...but all is well.
ReplyDeleteI also like the line "the struggle is enough to fill a man's heart." It's neat how you focused on the heart, when Meursault's heart is so full that it's become hard. Yet this is a good thing?
Your poem flows really well too, which is something that's not easy to do with a found poem. I like how you intertwined the story with the myth, it's similar to mine!
Nice job :)
Endsley-
ReplyDeleteI really like how short your poem is because it is as if you're saying that while life is short, we are in control of how to live it.
Endsley I really like how your poem is nice and short but really encompasses the idea of absurdism.
ReplyDeleteChelsea,
ReplyDeleteI really liked how well your poem flowed and you chose some really meaningful and powerful lines from the end of The Stranger and Sisyphus. When I read your poem it felt like it was more of a celebration rather than regret.
erin
ReplyDeleteI loved the first line in your poem when you said, "One always finds one's burden again." It makes me think that Camus is trying to suggest a cycle of lie. I think of a circular motion that one is trapped within and a perpetual motion that they can never break out of.
Tana--
ReplyDeleteI love the motif of night in your poem. You did a nice job linking the images of night, dusk, shadows, etc. from the different passages to create the images of night.
Nice :)
Mel,
ReplyDeleteI really like the third stanza of your poem. I think that it really captures absurdism. The line "filling the void with a purpose" is really interesting. I think that goes well with what the wikipedia definition was saying about filling the void with something like religion. One of the things that I took away from the Stranger and absurdism was that people understand that life is pointless, yet they still fill the void with something, and it makes them happy.
Maria I loved your poem! And the last line of "all is well" struck me and brought new understanding for me of the novel.
ReplyDeleteA sort of ecstasy of joy and rage…
ReplyDeleteI had been shouting so much that I’d lost my breath, I laid my heart open I felt calm again.
I poured out on him all the thoughts that had been simmering in my brain
What difference could they make to me, the deaths of others?
That, no doubt, was all I had; but at least that certainty
The rock is still rolling…
This universe henceforth:
Every man alive was privileged.
All the time, I’d been waiting for this present moment,
though,
it might look as if my hands were empty.
find meaning in their lives.
ReplyDeleteattempt.
filling the void with a purpose set forth.
I made no reply.
in the same vein,
cut in with a question,
How did I picture the life after the grave?
Living
like a corpse
hands were empty
And what did that mean?
living through.
The rock is still rolling.
I was happy still,
For all to be accomplished,
execration.
The rock is still rolling.
Chels! I loved your poem, how you took someone elses words and made them your own. Your first stanza was my favorite, and I like that concluding line: "kiss me." It's funny how because that line wasn't capitalized compared to the beginning of the rest of your lines, it seemed to really stand out.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I liked your last stanza, relating the sun, night, and stars. There's a lot of this imagery in the Stranger, I like how you summed it up in relation to Meursault's heart. Nice work :)