Saving “The Hollow Men”

(How serendipitous, two emails converging, aligning ~ the Times coverage of the RNC and Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” as my Poem A Day offering. I had to write it):

Have always loved Thomas Stearns
Eliot, even before I understood him
(not that I understand him now). It
seems the hollow men gave up on
their dreams. Perhaps they lacked a
solid supporter (you only need one.
A real one, not the lip service kind).

The hollow men felt their actions had
no impact, couldn’t see clear of despair.
I’ve been there. Why bother, it’s useless.
Pointless. Exhausting.

The hollow men lacked the courage of their
convictions, the will and strength to carry
out their desires; (lost desire, nothing to
carry, no work to be done). Dry stones in the
mouth instead of bread. Dead in the eyes.
Weary.

Trump used the word love in one of his speeches.
He “made a call out of love.” I doubt he fully
understands the word but here’s hoping so. The
hollow men need our love, they may not know it.
Might be too proud or arrogant or vain to admit
it and let it in, but no stone turns to bread without
Love. Believe it or not, but I think it’s what Jesus was
trying to say. Love isn’t rhetoric or formulaic. It isn’t
always immediate. You can’t just drive by and pick
some up like fast food.

Love implies effort (“Your parents did the best they
could” once irked me. Barely eleven, I knew they hadn’t
tried). Patience. Approval. Kindness and compassion.
A willingness to compromise. Belief in goodness.
Mercy.
Tolerance.
Forgiveness.

Love isn’t blind. It sees everything and has the ability to
respond. It’s pained when it falters and works harder. Its
work is never done. Love never loses hope and never gives
up. Never throws in the towel, never takes the easy way out.
Love goes the distance, like a great thoroughbred (how
many horses walk off the track in an important race because
they didn’t *feel* like finishing?)

The hollow men needed some pumping up. Not with iron,
(even The Hulk can’t eat stones), but with some sort of
moral fortitude, some sort of poetic urgency to be needed
(not so much admired as included). Needed some sweet
gardener, planting lovely rose bushes in the arid soil of
their apathy. Some bright light behind their smiling eyes,
to inspire faith and confidence. Someone who has burned
their hollow straw in a great bonfire, and come out singing.

Grateful.

Fulfilled.

LBM 7/20/2024