My mom and uncle both have the initials T.S. Last name Elliott. My grandfather’s favorite poet, I guess.
credit: poets.org
When I first started trying to read classics again after a long vacation from high school English and what I considered at the time to be boring, stuffy authors, I bought a collection of poems by T.S. Eliot. Two of my favorite people in the world are named after him, and I’d not read a single one of his poems. I highlighted this passage from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.
For I have known them all already, known them all–
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room
So how should I presume?
The imagery of him measuring out his life in coffee spoons is powerful. I picture him standing before his morning coffee, lamenting. Words probably pouring through his head, trying to find the perfect way to say, “This is what life is like.”
The same way I do. The same way we all probably do in the privacy of our minds. Some of us are just crazy enough to sit down at a computer or notebook with our day’s coffee and try to capture those fleeting thoughts.
Slippery little fuckers.
My mom quoted it back to me recently in something she’s writing, and I started writing a list of mundane things I’ve measured my life with. Not a bad exercise if you’re looking for one today.
I tried to write a poem, and it sucks. I wish I could successfully capture the cadence of poetry, but I just can’t quite get there.
An example of my shitty, response poetry:
Around line three
this thought occurred to me
My dear T.S., with your poems so long
I’m beginning to think this is not really a love song.
Patients etherised upon the table,
One-night cheap hotels
tedious arguments
of insidious intent.
Well that part sounds familiar…
All the women come and go
and we’re not talking of Michelangelo
But, we’re pretty good at complaining about that bitch Karen from work
I know that isn’t it.
that isn’t what you meant at all.
So how would I presume.
Oh yes, I’ve measured my life with coffee spoons
and the same fifteen pounds and calories consumed
I’ve measured life in success
and rejections
In calendar years
in births, deaths, and countless tears
It all seems meaningless after close inspection
Should I live long enough to witness greatness at all
it would seem easier to then embrace its flicker
and when the eternal Footman shows up for me with a coat and his snicker
…would I really feel afraid?
Or would I feel relief at warnings I’ve heeded
Relieved we’re going somewhere a coat is needed?
And now the people come and go,
and say their favorite ninja turtle
was Michelangelo.
And I know, that isn’t it
That isn’t what you meant at all.
More of this garbage exists in My Documents, but that’s all I’m posting today.
I guess my question today is, what are you measuring out your days with?
Likes, follows, and stats? Weeks pregnant, weeks or months your baby has been here on this earth (you get to switch back to years at age two I’ve discovered). Calories consumed? Miles logged? Resolutions you’ve already discarded? Birthdays? Hours sleep? 3 hour blocks of newborn time? Loves gained and lost? Queries submitted and rejected? Days until the weekend? Sunrises and sunsets you’ve seen or missed?
How do you feel about these measures?
Let’s hear it.
When I was 15, I carried a book of TS Eliott around like a bible. I think it made me look….intellectual or something. Still, I love this poem. My dad and I analyzed it late at night. It was a rare event for a teen and father to connect. Thanks!
Coolest. Dad. Ever.
That is really cool, thank you for sharing!
I love that line of that poem. Great post.
Thanks, Christie! THat was immediately my favorite line of the poem as well. Well one of them anyway!
First, your poem made me smile in both “aha” ways and “ho-ho” ways. A fine homage! Prufrock was one of the first “difficult” poems I studied in high school. Thank you, Mrs. Mutimer!
Second, I think I measure out my days in deadlines, without which I doubt my lazy ass would write as much as it does. (Ass-writing? Oh, it’s all the rage!)
Thanks for this.
Hahaha! I do a fair amount of ass-writing myself
Thanks for reading and commenting!
Well, coffee spoons would suit me perfectly as a measure
Great pic to accompany the poem. However, I tend to measure by friends, relationships and, of course, all the little rescues.
Very good measures! Thank you for sharing.
I measure my life in moments, anything any longer I cannot depend on–I think coffee spoons is a wonderful way to measure life
I think moments and coffee spoons are lovely measures as well!
Right now I’m measuring my days in minutes until the work day ends (currently 300).
Not a good standard, but witht he frame of mind I’m in right now, it’ll do.
It’ll do…
Your poem was pretty good, if only because it’s honest.
Thanks! 300 minutes…I think of you in the cube farm often, in fact, I almost put that reference in here since I spent such a fair amount of my life using that same measure sitting in a cube myself.
Very interesting question! Being back in school, I tend to measure my life in terms of papers completed and paper yet-to-write. More generally though, I sometimes find myself measuring life in terms of the opportunities I haven’t pursued out of fear of not being good enough. I like the idea of coffee spoons better.
I enjoyed your poem!
I have the same measure sometimes, and I agree, the idea of coffee spoons is much better! Thanks for stopping by today!
Great excerpt from T.S, Elliot, and I loved your response poem!
It had me laughing as well as inspiring more serious inner reflection.
What am I measuring out my days with? Well I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to the “likes, follows, and stats” at least recently. But my hours of sleep are also being measured and lamented, because for the last month, my chronic insomnia has been the worst it’s been in years. The good news is that I finally slept well last night, Thank God!
Loves gained and lost have also been measured, but that caused all kinds of online drama back at my blog, so I think I’ll not mention any more about that one!
And yes, I definitely measure coffee spoons, and get real annoyed when there aren’t any to measure, because all our coffee spoons are in the dishwasher, and neither my wife nor I can remember to turn the damn thing on! Which doesn’t make any sense, because pressing the “start” button is the easiest part of the entire process!!! Lol
Glad it got you laughing and reflecting. That’s about the best response I can hope for. I’m sorry your insomnia is bad again, but hopefully you will get a repeat of last night. Cut back that caffiene again
It’s generally the easiest steps that get forgetten in life…we have that same start button problem here too.
I love how you manage to be humorous and insightful all in one. I suppose I’m now measuring my days with how much I get done on my novel. If I make good headway, my day is successful. If not, my day is not so successful. On a deeper level, I suppose I measure my days by my children’s actions, achievements, failures, upsets, etc. One thing I DON’T measure my days with is writing poetry. Believe me, no one wants that from me. But I loved reading yours!
I rarely attempt poetry outside of my own journals, but I admire those who have the gift for it. I love your measures too, thanks for sharing them!
I am learning to just BE and take it 24 hours at a time lately – ha! Happy Hump Day – Great Post!!!
That’s a good idea! Seems easier 24 at a time
Happy Hump Day too you too!
“An example of my shitty, response poetry” — first of all, I’ve not read anything by you that I would define anywhere near shitty. Love it all. You’re the “writer me” I wish I could be
I’ve been thinking about what I measure my life by…and I’m not totally sure.. it’s always changing, Sadly, what probably takes the cake is measuring by weekends. Every Monday I start waiting for Friday. It’s probably time for a new job.
You are too kind, and I thank you for it today! I measure by weekends too, although now it’s looking forward to family time instead of dreading another day at work. So the scenery has changed a little, but the measure is the same. Thanks for adding your thoughts today!
I adore this. And I loved your poem! I always thought I didn’t like poetry, but I have discovered Mary Oliver recently. Beautiful. ‘I want to write something so simply.’ is a great one on writing.
The only TS Eliot I have come across is ‘The Wasteland’ and it was too much for me… though I don’t remember much about it. I must try again!
Like so many of your commenters, probably hours/minutes until the work day ends. I don’t even normally get weekends – I’m craving freedom and direction and creativity! Thank you for this!
A coffee lyric I love (which would look nice spelled out in sugar as above) is from Lisa Hannigan ‘Ocean and a Rock’ ‘I spoon you into my coffee cup, spin you through a delicate wash, I wear you all day.’ It made me think of it. Your writing is wonderful, and makes us think!
Beautiful quotes, thank you for sharing them! I will have to pick up some of the poets you’ve mentioned here. The Wasteland was tough to get through, but there are some great lines in that poem as well. Thanks so much for commenting!
I’m going to have to think this one over for a while.
Me too
T.S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets. Your response to J. Alfred (or T.S.) is AWESOME. I’ve been thinking about how to answer your question about how I measure days—it’s a great question, by the way—and I think these days I probably measure it in a few different ways. Birthdays, blog posts, work projects completed, pounds lost, and paychecks deposited. Those would be the bigger units of measurement, with the smaller units of measurement being cups of coffee, TV shows watched, cookies eaten.
Great answers Weebs, thanks for sharing them. Those smaller measures take up a lot of my time as well
My system of measurement has changed dramatically over the past few years. Sadly, my days used to be measured by how much “fun” I was having pouring vodka down my throat. A big part of getting over that, has been 24 hours at a time. All we have is today. I don’t measure my days by my tomorrows or yesterdays anymore, they are measured by each moment of today. Each day, if I do the best that I can in all respects, then that is a good day. Did I spend quality time with my kids? Was I kind, honest, respectful? Was I good to myself? Did I make time to write? Did I laugh? Did I listen? Did I hear? Did I take time to appreciate what I have? As each instance presents itself during the day, if I make the right choice how to handle it, then it has been a good day, a day worth living and a day to be grateful for.
Beautiful answers my friend. I used to measure my days by “fun” too, but I agree with your live in the moment measures.
Right now, I’m measuring it in the times away from home I’ve scheduled: 4 day writer’s retreat in Feb, 4 days at a conference in Pittsburgh in March, spring break in April with the kids at Natural Bridge (VA)…..because when my divorce begins, I won’t be going anywhere. After that, I’ll be measuring my days by financial and legal hurdles that must be jumped over before I reach Freedom.
Ahhh, Pittsburgh
Good luck on the hurdles to freedom. I’ve been there, and it isn’t fun, but it sounds like you have some happy plans before it goes down, and the freedom on the other side…well it can eventually be wonderful. Thanks for commenting!
hey rfl, i’m trying to comment on the rootbeer float piece, but when i try and come to it from the mailer, it doesn’t appear. odd. anyway, i’m sh*t at commenting on other people’s blogs these days, i can barely answer my own. but, your post really, REALLY drew me in. we all have that one thing that reminds of our dads. mine is a straight up, east coast, egg sandwich on a kaiser roll. boom – DAD. a really, really, great piece from beginning to end. and i would say, don’t be so hard on yourself on the perfectionist front because you’re writing, well, it’s that perfect root beer float. xo, sm
Oh SM, thank you! My daughter found the publish button for me this morning, so I had to pull that back and edit a little. In the end, I didn’t change much because I was laughing too hard that it was posted with typos, misspellings and no picture. Thanks so much for commenting today and sharing your Dad memories too. You are awesomesauce!
wow! I used to not measure at all – life was carefree and fun and I never gave anything but the current moment a thought. Than one day I woke up and I was measuring by weekends from my cubicle, from my husbands side, as a home owner with responsibilities!! But be careful what changes you wish for… now I measure in semesters and only 5 more before I have to reenter the real world and my “mid-life” crisis is over!
great post – makes me want to remember what went on in HS english!!
Ah, yes, I remember measuring life in semesters. I might have to do that again soon myself! I hope your school is going well though!
yes but quite as much fun as the first time around when I stumbled into class after “keggers!” LOL!
No doubt!