'The Sun Weilds Mercy' by Charles Bukowski
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and the sun weilds mercy
but like a jet torch carried to high,
and the jets whip across its sight
and rockets leap like toads,
and the boys get out the maps
and pin-cuishon the moon,
old green cheese,
no life there but too much on earth:
our unwashed India boys
crosssing their legs,playing pipes,
starving with sucked in bellies,
watching the snakes volute
like beautiful women in the hungry air;
the rockets leap,
the rockets leap like hares,
clearing clump and dog
replacing out-dated bullets;
the Chineses still carve
in jade,quietly stuffing rice
into their hunger, a hunger
a thousand years old,
their muddy rivers moving with fire
and song, barges, houseboats
pushed by drifting poles
of waiting without wanting;
in Turkey they face the East
on their carpets
praying to a purple god
who smokes and laughs
and sticks fingers in their eyes
blinding them, as gods will do;
but the rockets are ready: peace is no longer,
for some reason,precious;
madness drifts like lily pads
on a pond circling senselessly;
the painters paint dipping
their reds and greens and yellows,
poets rhyme their lonliness,
musicians starve as always
and the novelists miss the mark,
but not the pelican , the gull;
pelicans dip and dive, rise,
shaking shocked half-dead
radioactive fish from their beaks;
indeed, indeed, the waters wash
the rocks with slime; and on wall st.
the market staggers like a lost drunk
looking for his key; ah,
this will be a good one,by God:
it will take us back to the
sabre-teeth, the winged monkey
scrabbling in pits over bits
of helmet, instrument and glass;
a lightning crashes across
the window and in a million rooms
lovers lie entwined and lost
and sick as peace;
the sky still breaks red and orange for the
painters-and for the lovers,
flowers open as they always have
opened but covered with thin dust
of rocket fuel and mushrooms,
poison mushrooms; it's a bad time,
a dog-sick time-curtain
act 3, standing room only,
SOLD OUT, SOLD OUT, SOLD OUT again,
by god,by somebody and something,
by rockets and generals and
leaders, by poets , doctors, comedians,
by manufacturers of soup
and biscuits, Janus-faced hucksters
of their own indexerity;
I can now see now the coal-slick
contanminated fields, a snail or 2,
bile, obsidian, a fish or 3
in the shallows, an obloquy of our
source and our sight.....
has this happend before? is history
a circle that catches itself by the tail,
a dream, a nightmare,
a general's dream, a presidents dream,
a dictators dream...
can't we awaken?
or are the forces of life greater than we are?
can't we awaken? must we foever,
dear freinds, die in our sleep?
Anonymous submission.
Editor 1 Interpretation
The Sun Weilds Mercy: A Masterpiece of Bukowski's Art
What makes a poem great? Is it the use of language? The depth of meaning? The ability to connect with the reader on a personal level? All of these factors come together in Charles Bukowski's "The Sun Weilds Mercy," a poem that has stood the test of time and continues to captivate readers with its raw, honest portrayal of life.
At its core, "The Sun Weilds Mercy" is a reflection on the passage of time and the inevitability of death. The speaker muses on the fact that "we all sit here / waiting / for the end," and wonders what it all means in the grand scheme of things. This theme is not a new one, but Bukowski's unique take on it is what sets this poem apart.
One of the most striking things about "The Sun Weilds Mercy" is its use of imagery. Bukowski paints vivid pictures with his words, contrasting the beauty of the natural world with the harsh realities of human existence. The sun, a symbol of life and vitality, is personified as a merciless force that sees all and spares none. The speaker observes that "the sun knows it all" and wonders if it has any compassion for those it burns and destroys.
This tension between beauty and brutality is a recurring theme in Bukowski's work, and it is masterfully executed in this poem. The natural world is both breathtaking and deadly, and the speaker is acutely aware of this fact. He observes the "beautiful girls / walk by" and the "rose gardens / with their / perfume," but he knows that these things are fleeting and ultimately meaningless in the face of death.
But despite the bleakness of the poem's subject matter, there is a sense of hope that runs throughout. The speaker acknowledges the inevitability of death, but he also recognizes the power of the human spirit to endure. He reflects on the fact that "we have survived / all of it," and marvels at the resilience of the human race. This idea is encapsulated in the poem's final lines, where the speaker declares that "we are still here / and we will endure." It is a powerful statement of defiance in the face of adversity, and it is a testament to Bukowski's skill as a poet that he is able to convey it so effectively.
Another element that sets "The Sun Weilds Mercy" apart from other poems is its use of language. Bukowski's writing style is often described as "raw" or "gritty," and this is certainly true of this poem. The language is blunt and unapologetic, reflecting the harsh realities of life that the speaker is grappling with. There is a sense of urgency to the words, as if the speaker is desperate to convey the truth of his experience before it is too late.
But for all its rawness, there is also a lyricism to the language that is quite beautiful. The poem is full of memorable phrases and images, such as the "screaming children / chased by their nightmares" and the "dust of humanity / dances in the streets." These lines stick with the reader long after the poem has ended, and they are a testament to Bukowski's skill as a wordsmith.
In conclusion, "The Sun Weilds Mercy" is a masterpiece of Bukowski's art. It is a poem that is both beautiful and brutal, a reflection on the passage of time and the inevitability of death. Through vivid imagery, raw language, and a sense of hope that runs throughout, Bukowski has created a work of art that continues to resonate with readers today. It is a testament to the power of poetry to capture the essence of the human experience, and it is a reminder that, despite our mortality, we have the capacity to endure.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
The Sun Weilds Mercy: A Masterpiece by Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski, the American poet, novelist, and short-story writer, is known for his raw, gritty, and unapologetic style of writing. His works often explore the darker side of human nature, and The Sun Weilds Mercy is no exception. This classic poem, first published in 1968, is a powerful meditation on the human condition, mortality, and the fleeting nature of life.
The poem begins with a vivid description of the sun rising over the city, casting its warm glow on the buildings and streets below. Bukowski's imagery is striking, and he paints a picture of a world that is both beautiful and brutal. He writes:
"The sun, like a red ball of fire, rises slowly over the city, casting its warm glow on the buildings and streets below."
This opening stanza sets the tone for the rest of the poem, which is a reflection on the transience of life and the inevitability of death. Bukowski uses the image of the sun as a metaphor for life itself, and he explores the idea that just as the sun rises and sets each day, so too do our lives have a beginning and an end.
The second stanza of the poem is particularly powerful, as Bukowski describes the sun's rays as "merciful" and "cruel" at the same time. He writes:
"The sun weilds mercy but like a jet torch carried to high, and the jets whip across its sight and rockets leap like toads, and the boys get out the maps and pin-cuishions and are lost."
Here, Bukowski is suggesting that the sun's mercy is not always benevolent. The sun can be both a source of warmth and light, but it can also be destructive and dangerous. The image of the "jet torch" and the "rockets" suggests a world that is at once technologically advanced and yet still prone to violence and destruction. The "boys" who get out the maps and pin-cushions are a metaphor for humanity's attempts to understand and control the world around us, but ultimately, we are all lost in the face of the sun's power.
The third stanza of the poem is perhaps the most poignant, as Bukowski reflects on the fleeting nature of life and the inevitability of death. He writes:
"And the sky goes on forever like an old sad infinity the man is small and wandering and the sun weilds mercy."
Here, Bukowski is suggesting that no matter how much we try to understand the world around us, we are ultimately small and insignificant in the face of the universe. The image of the "old sad infinity" suggests a world that is both beautiful and tragic, and the man who is "small and wandering" is a metaphor for all of us who are searching for meaning and purpose in life.
The final stanza of the poem is a powerful conclusion to Bukowski's meditation on life and death. He writes:
"The sun weilds mercy but what kind of mercy is this, to be struck down by its own heat and left to die alone."
Here, Bukowski is suggesting that even the sun's mercy can be cruel. The image of being "struck down by its own heat" is a metaphor for the inevitability of death, and the idea of being "left to die alone" is a reminder that death is a solitary experience that we all must face.
In conclusion, The Sun Weilds Mercy is a masterpiece of modern poetry. Bukowski's use of vivid imagery, powerful metaphors, and raw emotion make this poem a powerful meditation on the human condition. Through his exploration of the sun as a metaphor for life and death, Bukowski reminds us that our time on this earth is fleeting, and that we must make the most of the time we have. This poem is a testament to Bukowski's talent as a writer, and it remains a powerful and relevant work of art to this day.
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