The Power and the Glory

Idolized Heroes

Author's Note: This is a poem about how we over idolize people, and how we are just other people that can accomplish the same great things.

We are,

We all are capable

to do anything

What has been done,

and, what can never be done again

I will,

I will accomplish

everything,

What I want,

and, what I dream

They aren't

They aren't everything,

not the perfect people

We imagine,

and we idolize

It can.

It can happen.

To us.

 

The Danger of True Idealism

Author's Note: This is a poem about how you need to live in the moment, and not think about what could be better, as life passes you by.

The time is now,

It always has been,

There is nothing else,

Nothing to plan for,

Nothing to remember

If not now,

Never

We cannot control the future

We cannot change the past

We can make the present,

Whatever we want.

The time cannot wait

We must go now

Change what we can

Change what we want

The time is

Now

Life's Meaning
Author's Note: This is a poetic response to the beginning of Part II in Graham Greene's The Power and the Glory. It is written from the perspective of the Lieutenant.

Is there anything left to live for?
The hollow tasks, and rewards
Give me false feeling,
There is nothing left

Is Life worth living
The lack of feeling,
The hatred of the world
Is thrust upon me

Life is not there for me
For me to make my own
Life is hollow
Life is worthless

Nothing Left to Feel

Author's Note: This is a short story set in the same set of circumstances that Mr. Tench had to endure in The Power and the Glory.

There I was it was... I can't remember, all the days, and hours, get mashed up in my head. It could have been three months ago, or just yesterday, I just don't know. I started walking down to the river, to get... What was it... right, some water. Well I was walking, and I bumped into this surprisingly attentive and alert man. He had a satchel with him, it seemed very important to him, but that he could have anybody else know what was in it. He was very skittish, so much so that he thought he was being followed. He seemed friendly when we talked, so I took him back to my house. I was going to ask him if he wanted anything to drink, but then I remembered that I forgot the water. I didn't even need to ask him though; he pulled out his own drink. It had been so long since I had seen what he drank. It was brandy. I hadn't seen any since the prohibition set it, but I might have been imagining it in all the heat. The only way I was going to know if anything was real, would be when I died. That was the one feeling that would be felt. Everything else felt the same, like nothing. When I broke out of my day dream, I was alone.

Hopelessness
Author's Note: This is a poetic response to the first chapter of The Power and the Glory. The chapter was about a man in Mexico, where the world has become a wasteland in an ironic world.

The land is so barren,
The sea is so ravishing,
The sun is so blistering

My house is so bare
My life is so forgotten
My job is so ignored

His life is a mystery
His home is nowhere to be found
His job is forbidden