Linda's Literary Home

Category: Essays: Poems and Songs with Commentaries

  • William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming”

    Image: William Butler Yeats – Howard Coster – National Portrait Galley, London

    William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming”

    William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming” remains one of the most widely misunderstood poems of the 20th century. Many scholars and critics have failed to criticize the exaggeration in the first stanza and the absurd metaphor in the second stanza, which render a potentially fine poem a critical failure.

    Introduction with Text of “The Second Coming”

    Poems, in order to communicate, must be as logical as the purpose and content require. For example, if the poet wishes to comment on or criticize an issue, he must adhere to physical facts in his poetic drama. If the poet wishes to emote, equivocate, or demonstrate the chaotic nature of his cosmic thinking, he may legitimately do so without much seeming sense.

    For example, Robert Bly’s lines—”Sometimes a man walks by a pond, and a hand / Reaches out and pulls him in” / / “The pond was lonely, or needed / Calcium, bones would do,”—are ludicrous [1] on every level.   Even if one explicates the speaker’s personifying the pond, the lines remain absurd, at least in part because if a person needs calcium, grabbing the bones of another human being will not take care of that deficiency. 

    The absurdity of a lake needing “calcium” should be abundantly clear on its face.  Nevertheless, the image of the lake grabbing a man may ultimately be accepted as the funny nonsense that it is.   William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming” cannot be dismissed so easily; while the Yeats poem does not depict the universe as totally chaotic, it does bemoan that fact that events seem to be leading society to armageddon.

    The absurdity surrounding the metaphor of the “rough beast” in the Yeats poem renders the musing on world events without practical substance.

    The Second Coming

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre   
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst   
    Are full of passionate intensity. 

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out  
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   
    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   
    The darkness drops again; but now I know   
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,  
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? 

    Commentary on “The Second Coming”

    William Butler Yeats’ “The Second Coming” remains one of the most widely anthologized poems in world literature.  Yet its hyperbole in the first stanza and ludicrous “rough beast” metaphor in the second stanza result in a blur of unworkable speculation.

    First Stanza: Sorrowful over Chaos

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre   
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst   
    Are full of passionate intensity. 

    The speaker is sorrowing over the chaos of world events that have left in their wake many dead people.  Clashes of groups of ideologues have wreaked havoc, and much blood shed has smeared the tranquil lives of innocent people who wish to live quiet, productive lives. 

    The speaker likens the seemingly out of control situation of society to a falconer losing control of the falcon as he attempts to tame it.   Everyday life has become chaotic as corrupt governments have spurred revolutions.  Lack of respect for leadership has left a vacuum which is filled with force and violence.

    The overstated claim that “The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity” should have alerted the poet that he needed to rinse out the generic hyperbole in favor of more accuracy on the world stage.  

    Such a blanket, unqualified statement, especially in a poem, lacks the ring of truth:  it simply cannot be true that the “best lack all conviction.”  Surely, some the best still retain some level of conviction, or else improvement could never be expected.  

    It also cannot be true that all the worst are passionate; some of the worst are likely not passionate at all but remain sycophantic, indifferent followers.  Any reader should be wary of such all-inclusive, absolutist statements in both prose and poetry.  

    Anytime a writer subsumes an entirety with the terms “all,” “none,” “everything,” “everyone,” “always,” or “never,” the reader should question the statement for its accuracy.  All too often such terms are signals for stereotypes, which produce the same inaccuracy as groupthink.

    Second Stanza: What Revelation?

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.   
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out  
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,   
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   
    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.   
    The darkness drops again; but now I know   
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,  
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? 

    The idea of “some revelation” leads the speaker to the mythological second coming of Christ.  So he speculates on what a second coming might entail.  However, instead of “Christ,” the speaker conjures the notion that an Egyptian-Sphinx-like character with ill-intent might arrive instead.  

    Therefore, in place of a second coming of godliness and virtue, as is the purpose of the original second coming, the speaker wonders:  what if the actual second coming will be more like an Anti-Christ?  What if all this chaos of bloodshed and disarray has been brought on by the opposite of Christian virtue?

    Postmodern Absurdity and the “Rough Beast”

    The “rough beast” in Yeats’ “The Second Coming” is an aberration of imagination, not a viable symbol for what Yeats’ speaker thought he was achieving in his critique of culture. If, as the postmodernists contend, there is no order [2] in the universe and nothing really makes any sense anyway, then it becomes perfectly fine to write nonsense. 

    Because this poet is a contemporary of modernism but not postmodernism [3], William Butler Yeats’ poetry and poetics do not quite devolve to the level of postmodern angst that blankets everything with the nonsensical.  Yet, his manifesto titled A Vision is, undoubtedly, one of the contributing factors to that line of meretricious ideology. 

    Hazarding a Guess Can Be Hazardous

    The first stanza of Yeats’ “The Second Coming” begins by metaphorically comparing a falconer losing control of the falcon to nations and governments losing control because of the current world disorder, in which “[t]hings fall apart; the centre cannot hold.” 

    Political factions employ these lines against their opposition during the time in which their opposition is in power, as they spew forth praise for their own order that somehow magically appears with their taking the seat of power.

    The poem has been co-opted by the political class so often that Dorian Lynskey, overviewing the poem in his essay, “‘Things fall apart’: the Apocalyptic Appeal of WB Yeats’s The Second Coming,” writes, “There was apparently no geopolitical drama to which it could not be applied” [4].

    The second stanza dramatizes the speaker’s musing about a revelation that has popped into his head, and he likens that revelation to the second coming of Christ; however, this time the coming, he speculates, may be something much different.  

    The speaker does not know what the second coming will herald, but he does not mind hazarding a dramatic guess about the possibility.   Thus, he guesses that the entity of a new “second coming” would likely be something that resembles the Egyptian sphinx; it would not be the return of the Christ with the return of virtue but perhaps its opposite—vice. 

    The speaker concludes his guess with an allusion to the birth of such an entity as he likens the Blessed Virgin Mother to the “rough beast.”   The Blessèd Virgin Mother, as a newfangled, postmodern creature, will be “slouching toward Bethlehem” because that is the location to which the first coming came.  

    The allusion to “Bethlehem” functions solely as a vague juxtaposition to the phrase “second coming” in hopes that the reader will make the connection that the first coming and the second coming may have something in common.  The speaker speculates that at this very moment wherein the speaker is doing his speculation some “rough beast” might be pregnant with the creature of the “second coming.” 

    And as the time arrives for the creature to be born, the rough beast will go “slouching” towards its lair to give birth to this “second coming” creature: “its hour come round at last” refers to the rough beast being in labor. 

    The Flaw of Yeats’ “The Second Coming” 

    The speaker then poses the nonsensical question: “And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”   In order to make the case that the speaker wishes to make, these last two lines should be restructured in one of two ways: 

    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to give birth? 

     or

    And what rough beast’s babe, its time come at last,
    Is in transport to Bethlehem to be born?

    An unborn being cannot “slouch” toward a destination.  The pregnant mother of the unborn being can “slouch” toward a destination.   But the speaker is not contemplating the nature of the rough beast’s mother; he is contemplating the nature of the rough beast itself.  

    The speaker does not suggest that the literal Sphinx will travel to Bethlehem. He is merely implying that a Sphinx-like creature might resemble the creature of the second coming.  Once an individual has discounted the return of Jesus the Christ as a literal or even spiritual fact, one might offer personal speculation about just what a second coming would look like. 

    It is doubtful that anyone would argue that the poem is dramatizing a literal birth, rather than a spiritual or metaphorical one.    It is also unreasonable to argue that the speaker of this poem—or Yeats for that matter—thought that the second coming actually referred to the Sphinx.   A ridiculous image develops from the fabrication of the Sphinx moving toward Bethlehem. Yeats was more prudent than that. 

    Exaggerated Importance of Poem

    William Butler Yeats composed a manifesto to display his worldview and poetics titled A Vision, in which he set down certain tenets of his thoughts on poetry, creativity, and world history.   Although seemingly taken quite seriously by some Yeatsian scholars, A Vision is of little value in understanding either meaning in poetry or the meaning of the world, particularly in terms of historical events.  

    An important example of Yeats’ misunderstanding of world cycles is his explanation of the cyclical nature of history, exemplified with what he called “gyres” (pronounced with a hard “g.”)  Two particular points in the Yeatsian explanation demonstrate the fallacy of his thinking:

    1. In his diagram, Yeats set the position of the gyres inaccurately; they should not be intersecting but instead one should rest  one on top of the other:  cycles shrink and enlarge in scope; they do not overlap, as they would have to do if the Yeatsian model were accurate. 

    Image :  Gyres – Inaccurate Configuration from A Vision

    Image:  Gyres –  Accurate Configuration

    2.  In the traditional Second Coming, Christ is figured to come again but as an adult, not as in infant as is implied in Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming.”

    Of great significance in Yeats’ poem is the “rough beast,” apparently the Anti-Christ, who has not been born yet.  And most problematic is that the rough beast is “slouch[ing] towards Bethlehem to be born.”  The question is, how can such a creature be slouching if it has not yet been born?  There is no indication the speaker wishes to attribute this second coming fiasco to the mother of the rough beast.

    This illogical event is never mentioned by critics who seem to accept the slouching as a possible occurrence.  On this score, it seems critics and scholars have lent the poem an unusually wide and encompassing poetic license.

    The Accurate Meaning of the Second Coming

    Paramahansa Yogananda has explained in depth the original, spiritual meaning of the phrase “the second coming”[5] which does not signify the literal coming again of Jesus the Christ, but the spiritual awakening of each individual soul to its Divine Nature through the Christ Consciousness.  

    Paramahansa Yogananda summarizes his two volume work The Second Coming of Christ: The Resurrection of the Christ Within You:

    In titling this work The Second Coming of Christ, I am not referring to a literal return of Jesus to earth . . . 

    A thousand Christs sent to earth would not redeem its people unless they themselves become Christlike by purifying and expanding their individual consciousness to receive therein the second coming of the Christ Consciousness, as was manifested in Jesus . . . 

    Contact with this Consciousness, experienced in the ever new joy of meditation, will be the real second coming of Christ—and it will take place right in the devotee’s own consciousness. (my emphasis added)

    Interestingly, knowledge of the meaning of that phrase “the second coming” as explained by Paramahansa Yogananda renders unnecessary the musings of Yeats’ poem “The Second Coming”and most other speculation about the subject. Still, the poem as an artifact of 20th century thinking remains an important object for study. 

    Sources

    [1]  Linda Sue Grimes.  “Robert Bly’s ‘The Cat in the Kitchen’ and ‘Driving to Town Late to Mail a Letter’.”  Linda’s Literary Home. December 24, 2025. 

    [2]  David Solway.  “The Origins of Postmodernitis.”  PJ Media.  March 25, 2011.  

    [3]  Linda Sue Grimes. “Poetry and Politics under the Influence of Postmodernism.” Linda’s Literary Home.  Accessed December 3, 2025.

    [4]  Dorian Lynsey. “‘Things fall apart’: the Apocalyptic Appeal of WB Yeats’s The Second Coming.” The Guardian.  May 30, 2020.

    [5]  Editors. “The Truth Hidden in the GospelsSelf-Realization Fellowship. Accessed October 27, 2023.

  • Malcolm M. Sedam’s “The Hill Maiden”

    Image: Malcolm M. Sedam

    Malcolm M. Sedam’s “The Hill Maiden”

    In his poem, “The Hill Maiden,” Malcolm M. Sedam has created a speaker voicing cheerful vaticination that his teenage angst-ridden protégé will one day shed her nihilism and burst into life affirming joy.  The best teachers are those who can inspire as well as instruct their students.  This poem represents a stellar example of that kind of inspirational educator.

    Introduction and Text of “The Hill Maiden”

    Malcolm M. Sedam‘s “The Hill Maiden” features a teacher dramatizing his observations about a particularly inquisitive but melancholy student.  His ultimate purpose is to instill in the student the notion that she will ultimately be able to appreciate the life that she seems to disdain.

    The poem plays out in three movements of unrimed stanzas.  This organization allows the speaker to touch lightly on the physical reality of the subject but then move more intensely to the mental and finally the spiritual possibility of the subject’s inclinations. 

    Because the speaker can only infer certain facts about his student, the poem remains metaphorically and imagistically implicative  instead of unequivocally literal.  For example, the teacher has no exact idea what the student does at her home; thus he places her in an image of “moving among the phantom rocks of reverie.”  

    The teacher/speaker knows from the negativity the student has been expressing to him that she mentally resides among hardness that causes her to imagine that things are worse than they are.

    Mentally she travels like a rocket through her ghostly musings until night fall when she sleeps but likely gets little rest, accounting for the nervous, brittle energy the educator perceives in his young scholar.

    Likely the adolescent girl is simply suffering the turbulence of teenage angst through which most individuals of that age group must travel.  But the best, most effective teachers are those who can inspire as well as instruct their students.  This poem represents a stellar example of that kind of inspirational educator.

    As an educator, Mr. Malcolm M. Sedam wrote poems to many of his students, always with the goal of inspiring them to high thinking and plain living.  Mr. Sedam once said he felt that his function as an educator was “to kick the dirt off of his students.”  By that he meant to help them see life more clearly without the fog of stereotypes, prejudice, and provincialism.  

    The Hill Maiden

    (for Linda, over in the valley)

    She is moving among the phantom
    Rocks of reverie hurtling through
    By mind bringing days into darkness
    Where the pull of growth rings
    The heart and spurs the soul

    Where her wish strings questions
    In the mysterious night of snow
    Bringing a promise that only the hills can sing.
    Her smile waits behind a frown of swords
    That rend her days

    In the melancholy of the deep valley
    Of dreams where she lives among flowers
    Gathering her moods that may bring peace
    Once the sorrow of lonely distance
    Has closed on hands—

    The same hands that Zen-like reach
    To answer each knock at the door of her heart
    Broken to be mended by tender time.
    Her mind is speeding through a galaxy
    Of intensity where the blood rose

    Will speak to her frozen will
    All forgiven by decree in warring winds—
    The nature of her plight?
    Without wings
    She will still spring into flight.

    Commentary on “The Hill Maiden”

    Malcolm M. Sedam’s “The Hill Maiden” features a teacher, who is also a practicing poet, dramatizing his observance of an inquisitively intelligent but extremely melancholy student.  

    His only purpose is to instill in the student the notion that she will ultimately be able to appreciate the life that she seems now to disdain.

    First Movement:  Dreaming amongst the Hills

    She is moving among the phantom
    Rocks of reverie hurtling through
    By mind bringing days into darkness
    Where the pull of growth rings
    The heart and spurs the soul

    Where her wish strings questions
    In the mysterious night of snow
    Bringing a promise that only the hills can sing.

    The speaker begins by placing the object of his speculative musing in an image that implies sharp but dream-like rigidity.  Rocks appear ghost-like through a dream-scape as they bewilder the mental musings of the young girl with whom the mature educator is engaging both as a poetry mentor as well as a teacher.

    Teachers often counsel their students who seek out their advice and direction even in issues outside of the academic sphere as well as within the educational arena.  Those teachers who must essentially become counselors will either direct the students to other professionals, or they will attempt to offer their own gleanings from their life experience.

    The teacher in this poem demonstrates that he is the latter kind of teacher, and he has given the mind of the young student some serious analysis.  Thus he not only describes her environment, but he also speculates and then foreshadows what is likely to befall the girl once she is able to erase her current adolescent fog.

    Until that glowing day arrives, however, the speaker sees that the girl’s maturing process weighs heavily on her heart and soul.  She is full of questions brought on by the mystery of life.  

    The “snow” that brings beauty as it covers the hills also brings bitter cold and slippery conditions the cause the girl to miss the music that her hill-valley home affords her.

    By pointing out these images of beauty and placing them a context of mystery and difficulty, the speaker hopes to allow his charge to contemplate the possibility that life is real and offers hope to those who search its reaches with an open mind and cheerful heart.

    Second Movement:  Frowning Swords

    Her smile waits behind a frown of swords
    That rend her days

    In the melancholy of the deep valley
    Of dreams where she lives among flowers
    Gathering her moods that may bring peace
    Once the sorrow of lonely distance
    Has closed on hands—

    The same hands that Zen-like reach
    To answer each knock at the door of her heart
    Broken to be mended by tender time.

    The speaker has observed the teen’s unwillingness to show a cheerful countenance.   Her bitterness “behind a frown of swords” likely often gives the mentor a shudder at the likelihood that the girl is suffering intensely.

    No doubt, he believes that at this point in her life, she should be dancing merrily among “flowers” and allowing her sorrowful moods to dissolve in the “deep valley of dreams.”

    But again, he returns to prognostication that once she has learned to fold her hands in wonder and listen to the love that knocks at the “door of her heart,” her melancholy will be rendered null and void as “tender time” moves her through the rough spots of her anguish.

    Again, the speaker chooses beauty—”flowers gathering”—to balance the “frown.”  He offers the image of the heart’s door to harmonize with the environment that will reach her with the “Zen-like” hands of mystery and the ultimate gain-of-wisdom.  

    Like a Zen koan, the riddle of life will remain before her as she continues to search for answers to her perplexing questions.  

    Third Movement:  Springing into Flight

    Her mind is speeding through a galaxy
    Of intensity where the blood rose

    Will speak to her frozen will
    All forgiven by decree in warring winds—
    The nature of her plight?
    Without wings
    She will still spring into flight.

    Finally, the speaker makes his most striking vaticination after asserting that his young charge has a strong mind but also a tender heart that is quick to show intense emotion.  

    That the “blood rose” will speak itself undeniably to the girl’s will portends that all of her negativity and nihilism will be “forgiven” as she continues to navigate through the conflicts that life bestows on all searching souls.

    Then the speaker offers the question that he is likely very content to answer.  The frustrating situation that befuddles the young scholar’s mind and heart has been implied by all the imagery that went before, but then what will eventually be the path chosen by and/or for the student?   

    She will be able to navigate through all the trials and tribulations as a bird that so easily lifts it wings to the wind and takes to the air through the abundant space of sky.

    The speaker is not so naïve as to insist that such navigation will come easily, but he does remain assured that the path will open to the girl, and she will become willing to follow it. Thus the speaker can conclude affirmatively that “Without wings, she will still spring into flight.”

    Offered by a beloved and well-respected mentor, such faith in a young scholar’s ability to navigate life is bound to redound in blessings, despite the pitfalls and rough spots that her life, no doubt, will place sphinx-life before her mind and heart.

  • Barack Obama’s “Underground”

    Image:  Bookcase Credibility

    Barack Obama’s “Underground”

    In addition to his piece titled “Pop,” Barack Obama also published in Occidental college’s literary magazine, Feast, the short piece titled “Underground,” featuring a fantasy in which fig-eating apes breathe underwater, while dancing and tumbling about.

    Introduction and Text of “Underground”

    At age 19, Barack Hussein Obama II published in Occidental college’s literary magazine, Feast, two “poems.”  A piece titled “Pop,” in which he explores the relationship between a young man and a father figure, and this short piece titled “Underground,” which reveals a fantasy world where fig-eating apes breathe underwater, while dancing and tumbling in rushing water.

    Just as Obama’s piece of doggerel “Pop” does not bode well for a potential writer of any stripe, the future U. S. President’s [1] poetic effort, “Underground,” offers further evidence that this hack scribbler will retain no place in letters, while the brilliance with which the former Oval Office Occupier handled the falling off of the presidential seal further demonstrates that his talent lay in areas of entertainment, not governance.. 

    The title, “Underground,” indicates a location under the land, and it could also be indicating metaphorically some event or transaction not open to public scrutiny or awareness: an example might be a secret network similar to the Underground Railroad. However, no such meaning can be gleaned from this mass of confused doggerel.

    Underground

    Under water grottos, caverns
    Filled with apes
    That eat figs.
    Stepping on the figs
    That the apes
    Eat, they crunch.
    The apes howl, bare
    Their fangs, dance,
    Tumble in the
    Rushing water,
    Musty, wet pelts

    Commentary on “Underground”

    This three-pronged failure demonstrates even more clearly than the effort titled “Pop” that this scribbler has no place in letters. It fails for three significant reasons: (1) misuse of grammar/diction, (2) awkward enjambment, and (3) lack of meaning.

    First Movement: Underground, Underwater?

    Under water grottos, caverns
    Filled with apes
    That eat figs.

    The first line—”Under water grottos, caverns”— indicates that the setting for the activity is not “underground,” but, in fact, it is underwater. While the preferred spelling for the plural of “grotto” is “grottoes,” such an amateurish error is minor compared to the repetition of the similar terms, grotto and cavern. 

    There is a difference in the denotative meanings of those two terms: grotto can be man-made and decorative while cavern is natural. Immediately, the bumbling speaker had befuddled the reader by employing those two terms, which because of their different meanings imply different connotations. Is the cave decorated by human beings or is it not? Is it a “grotto” or a “cavern”?  It cannot be both.

    Those underwater caves, which may or may not be decorated, are teeming with land-dwelling, mammals who naturally breathe air, yet here they are—living and thus obviously breathing under water. The piece then perhaps becomes a verse of surreal fantasy. In any case, the reader must, at this point, suspend belief in order to continue, learning about those animals—”apes” that eat figs. 

    This fact is nothing out of the ordinary, because apes do love fruit, but why the versifier chooses to employ “figs” must remain a mystery. No speculation can approach a satisfactory answer, and the context offers no clue.

    Second Movement: Figs Stepping on Figs

    Stepping on the figs
    That the apes
    Eat, they crunch.

    In this three-line assertion, the misplaced modifier jumbles the message—who steps on the figs? It would appear that the apes would be doing so because no one else with feet appears in the grotto. 

    Following an introductory gerund clause—in this case, “stepping on the figs”—the subject of the main clause must be the actor in the introductory clause. Thus, the subject of the introductory gerund clause, “they,” has to be the figs because it follows immediately the introductory gerund clause.

    Because it is absurd to think that even an amateur would be stating such an impossible occurrence—that the figs are stepping on themselves—the reader becomes aware of the grammatical error called misplaced modifier. As Jack Cashill [2] has pointed out, Obama has been consistent in misapplying grammatical constructions including but not limited to bringing his subjects and verbs into alignment.

    Furthermore, word choice in poems is vital, and the writer’s choices in this poem offer nothing but speculation to the reader.  That flaw hinders meaning.  There seems to be no clear reason for choosing figs over any other fruit.  And that the speaker claims that the figs “crunch” remains nonsensical. Figs are soft and pliable; even dried figs would not “crunch” if stepped on.  Thus, not only is the choice of figs questionable; it is also unfeasible.

    Third Movement: Maddened by Crunching Figs

    The apes howl, bare
    Their fangs, dance

    It now seems that the “crunch” sound inflames the apes so that they start to “howl” and “bare their fangs” as they “dance.” The only reason for the ape-dance is that someone stepped on figs and made them crunch or so one would guess. 

    Is the ape excitement motivated by anger or is it urged on to gladness by the crunching of their figs?  Such amateurish discourse demonstrates the lack of control in composing meaningful a piece that communicate clearly.  Ultimately, this kind of nonsense communicates nothing but does clearly reveal the lack of ability of the composer.

    Fourth Movement: Awkward Enjambment

    Tumble in the
    Rushing water,
    Musty, wet pelts
    Glistening in the blue.

    As mentioned in the commentary on “Pop,” often a sign of an amateur poet is a line ending with “the”: “Tumble in the / Rushing water.” The frivolous diversion of this awkward enjambment distracts from the list of activities engaged in by the apes after their figs were stepped on.  

    The reader will want to like the apes and want to know what they are doing and why they are doing it, but the confused grammar, lack of poetic control, and awkward phrasing demonstrates by the would-be poet obliterates any hope of a clear reading.

    The reader may summarize the activities of the apes by quoting four lines: the apes “howl, bare / Their fangs, dance, / Tumble in the / Rushing water.” They do all of these things while their “[m]usty, wet pelts / [are] Glistening in the blue.”

     It remains ambiguous as to what “blue” refers: it would seem to be the water, but the scant amount of light peeping into the underwater cave would allow only enough to render the water’s color to appear black. This confusion offers further evidence that this amateur poetaster had little control of his thoughts and his language arsenal. It becomes especially galling that the poet could not even realize the nature of light and how it operates to illuminate color.

    Ungrammatical, Awkward, Meaningless

    This piece of doggerel, “Underground,” fails for three significant reasons: (1) misuse of grammar/diction, (2) awkward enjambment, but most importantly, (3) lack of meaning.  

    The apes could be charming, even endearing with their figs and their musty pelts, but the reader concludes the visit with them, baffled by the awkward execution of the piece, having no idea what has just transpired in these lines. 

    Readers might wonder what they might have communicated in the hands of a genuine poet, instead of in the hands of immature hack whose lack of a literary sensibility has misused them. 

    Such confusion fostered by this poem offers further evidence that this poetaster had little control over his thoughts and the instruments in his poetry toolkit. Nay, it remains quite likely he possessed no poetry toolkit at all.

    Sources

    [1]  AP Archive.  “Presidential seal falls off podium as Obama speaks.”   YouTube. July 2015.

    [2] Jack Kerwick. Jack Cashill’s Deconstructing Obama. American Thinker. February 25, 2011.


  • Barack Obama’s “Pop”

    Image: Obamas I, II, and Frank Marshall Davis  

    There is a price to be paid for criticizing Obama.” Jack Cashill

    Barack Obama’s “Pop”

    In Barack Obama’s “Pop,” the speaker is sketching what appears to be a father-figure—likely Frank Marshall Davis—and offering a glimpse into the relationship between the two.  Obama called his maternal grandfather “Gramps,”  rendering it unlikely that the father-figure in this poem is Stanley Dunham.

    Introduction with Text of “Pop”

    The spring 1981 issue of Feast, Occidental College’s literary magazine, published two poems, “Pop” and “Underground,” by erstwhile literary prodigy Barack Obama.  According to Jack Cashill, long-time researcher of Obama’s literary efforts, Obama’s writings [1] suffer from, “awkward sentence structure, inappropriate word choice, a weakness for clichés,” and “the continued failure to get verbs and nouns to agree.” 

    Obama’s poems suffer from similar language indignities but also include further issues relevant to poems, such a faulty line breaks, confusing mixed metaphors, and inappropriate use of surrealist images.

    Although readers can forgive a 19-year old for adolescent scribblings in non-sense, especially in poems published in a college lit mag, what they cannot do is discern that this particular adolescent was showing any potential to produce a future writer. 

    Likely, the future, and now former, occupier of the Oval Office could have become a capable interpretive reader, and it is possible that Barack Obama would have served more admirably as an actor [2] than writer or president.  

    Barack Obama possesses a unique charm that could have been employed in creative ways, if he had kept his focus on the humanities and entertainment fields instead of politics and government.  The Obama administration, tainted by incompetence and corruption [3], has altered the American political landscape more intensely than any other in American history.  

    For this misdirection, Barack Obama is less to blame than his handlers, beginning with political American terrorist Bill Ayers, continuing with political hacks David Axelrod and Valerie Jarrett. 

    His coterie of political advisors steered him in a direction that has enriched Obama and that coterie financially, instead of enriching society in a humanitarian field of endeavor.  The former president’s piece titled “Pop” consists of one 45-line versagraph [4]. The piece’s awkward, postmodern codswallop represents much of what is despicable and destructive in most postmodern art.

    Pop

    Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
    In, sprinkled with ashes,
    Pop switches channels, takes another
    Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
    What to do with me, a green young man
    Who fails to consider the
    Flim and flam of the world, since
    Things have been easy for me;
    I stare hard at his face, a stare
    That deflects off his brow;
    I’m sure he’s unaware of his
    Dark, watery eyes, that
    Glance in different directions,
    And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
    Fail to pass.
    I listen, nod,
    Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
    Beige T-shirt, yelling,
    Yelling in his ears, that hang
    With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
    His joke, so I ask why
    He’s so unhappy, to which he replies…
    But I don’t care anymore, cause
    He took too damn long, and from
    Under my seat, I pull out the
    Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing,
    Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
    To mine, as he grows small,
    A spot in my brain, something
    That may be squeezed out, like a
    Watermelon seed between
    Two fingers.
    Pop takes another shot, neat,
    Points out the same amber
    Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
    Makes me smell his smell, coming
    From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
    He wrote before his mother died,
    Stands, shouts, and asks
    For a hug, as I shink, my
    Arms barely reaching around
    His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ‘cause
    I see my face, framed within
    Pop’s black-framed glasses
    And know he’s laughing too.

    Commentary on “Pop”

    The man addressed in Obama’s “Pop” is likely Frank Marshall Davis, long thought to be Obama’s biological father [5]. Barry called his Grandfather Dunham “Gramps” [6], not “Pop.”

    First Movement: Sheltered Young Man

    Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
    In, sprinkled with ashes,
    Pop switches channels, takes another
    Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
    What to do with me, a green young man
    Who fails to consider the
    Flim and flam of the world, since
    Things have been easy for me;
    I stare hard at his face, a stare
    That deflects off his brow;
    I’m sure he’s unaware of his
    Dark, watery eyes, that
    Glance in different directions,
    And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
    Fail to pass.

    The speaker places his father-figure in his usual chair where the latter is watching television, enjoying his “Seagrams, neat.” The man, called Pop, begins accosting the young man by flinging at him a rhetorical question: “What to do with me?”  

    The speaker asserts that Pop thinks his young charge is just a “green young man / Who fails to consider the / Flim and flam of the world.” 

    Pop counsels the young man that the latter’s sheltered existence is responsible for the young man’s failure to recognize the “flim-flam” world. The speaker then stares at the old man, who exhibits a facial tick, while his eyes dart off “in different directions / And his slow, unwelcome twitches.”

    Frank Marshall Davis Is “Pop”

    While many reviewers of this poem have interpreted Pop to be Stanley Armour Dunham, the maternal grandfather who raised Obama, the former president’s hagiographer, David Maraniss, in his biography, Barack Obama: The Story, reveals that the poem “Pop” focuses on Frank Marshall Davis [7], not Stanley Armour Dunham.

    And the details of the poem all point to the truth of that revelation.  That Obama’s grandfather, who raised him, would be addressing such an issue with his young charge is untenable.   If the boy is incapable of considering the “flim-flam” of the world, whose fault would that be? It would be the person who raised the kid. 

    Obama’s relationship with Frank Marshall Davis, however, provides the appropriate station for such a topic of conversation. Davis took it upon himself to help the young Obama see the world through the lens of a black man in America. 

    Again, if “things have been easy for” the young Barry, it has been the grandfather who made them easy; thus, for the grandfather to be accosting the boy for that supposed flaw would be absurd.

    Obama’s grandfather introduced the boy to Davis for the purpose of providing Barry with the advice of an older man who had lived the life of a black man in America.  The Dunhams were heavily invested in identity politics as likely members of the Communist Party, as was card carrying member, Frank Marshall Davis [8]. 

    The grandfather was of the inclination that he could never guide a young black boy in certain areas but that Davis could. Whether that sensibility is accurate or not is the topic for another day, but the topic being discussed by the speaker of this poem precludes the poem’s addressing Obama’s white grandfather.

    Faulty Line Breaks

    Many of the bad line breaks [9] in the poem demonstrate the amateurish nature of the poetaster, who makes the rookie flaw of ending several lines with the definite article “the.” 

    About Obama’s use of line breaks, poet Ian McMillan sarcastically observes [10]: “Barack likes his line breaks, his enjambments: let’s end a line with ‘broken’ and start it with ‘in’ just because we can!”

    Second Movement: Surrealistic Encounter

    I listen, nod,
    Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
    Beige T-shirt, yelling,
    Yelling in his ears, that hang
    With heavy lobes, but he’s still telling
    His joke, so I ask why
    He’s so unhappy, to which he replies…
    But I don’t care anymore, cause
    He took too damn long, and from
    Under my seat, I pull out the
    Mirror I’ve been saving; I’m laughing,
    Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
    To mine, as he grows small,
    A spot in my brain, something
    That may be squeezed out, like a
    Watermelon seed between
    Two fingers.

    The speaker then employs a surrealistic style as he continues to describe his encounter with Pop. 

    The speaker listens politely, nodding occasionally, as the old man declaims, but suddenly the speaker is “cling[ing] to the old man’s “[b]eige T-shirt, yelling / Yelling in his ears.” Those ears have “heavy lobes,” and the old man is “still telling / His joke.” But the speaker then asks Pop, “why / He’s so unhappy.”

    Pop starts to respond, but the speaker does not “care anymore, cause / He took too damn long.” The speaker then pulls out a mirror from under his seat. 

    The confusion here mounts because the speaker had just claimed he was clinging to Pop’s shirt and yelling in the old man’s ear, which would have taken the speaker out of his seat. This confusion adds to the surreal nature of the episode.

    After pulling out the mirror, the speaker asserts that he is “laughing, / Laughing loud.” What he does with the mirror is never made clear. But during his outbreak of laughter, Pop “grows small” shrinking to a “spot in [the speaker’s] brain.” 

    That tiny spot, however, “may be squeezed out, like a / Watermelon seed between / Two fingers.” This shrunken seed image of the speaker’s pop implies a level of disrespect that is quite breathtaking as it suggests that the speaker would like to eliminate Pop from his mind.

    Third Movement: Smelling the Stain

    Pop takes another shot, neat,
    Points out the same amber
    Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and
    Makes me smell his smell, coming
    From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
    He wrote before his mother died,
    Stands, shouts, and asks
    For a hug, as I shink, my
    Arms barely reaching around
    His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; ‘cause
    I see my face, framed within
    Pop’s black-framed glasses
    And know he’s laughing too.

    The speaker observes that Pop “takes another shot, neat,” but he probably means that the old man took another sip; it is not likely that the father-figure is measuring out each swig with a shot glass. 

    With this swig, Pop “points out the same amber / Stain on his shorts that I’ve got on mine, and / Makes me smell his smell, coming / From me.” During the exchange, while clinging to Pop’s shirt, the speaker has stained Pop’s shorts.

    And Pop wants the speaker to realize his blame for the stain. At least, that’s one way to interpret the smelling the stain scene. 

    Others have inferred a sexual reference in the “smelling” scene, but that requires too much of a stretch, that is, a reading into the text what is not there and not implied.

    Pop then changes TV channels and “recites an old poem / He wrote before his mother died.” He then rises from his seat, “shouts, and asks / For a hug.” 

    The younger man realizes his smallness in comparison to the size of Pop: “my / Arms barely reaching around / His thick, oily neck, and his broad back.” But the speaker sees himself reflected in Pop’s “black-framed glasses.” And now Pop is “laughing too.”

    The reference to a poem written before Pop’s mother died also eliminates Grandfather Dunham as “Pop.” Dunham was only eight years old, when he discovered the body of his mother who had committed suicide. 

    The notion that an aged man would be quoting a poem that he wrote before he was eight years old is patently absurd. Plus there is no evidence that Grandfather Dunham ever wrote any poetry, while Frank is famously known as a poet, as well as his other endeavors in political activism and pornography.

    “Shink” Is Obviously a Typo and “Know” Is Likely “Now”

    Much has been made of the obvious typo in the line, “For a hug, as I shink, my.” The word is obviously “shrink.” Pop had shrunk to the size of a watermelon seed a few lines earlier, and now the speaker shrinks as he realizes how much smaller he is than Pop.

    It is quite possible that in the last line “know” is an additional typo, for the word “now” would be more appropriate. It would be nonsensical for the speaker to say he “knows” Pop is laughing when he is right there looking into his face. But it makes sense for him to report that during the hug Pop also begins to laugh.

    Interestingly, the editors of the New York Times quietly corrected the “shink” to “shrink” when they published the poems on May 18, 2008, in an article under the title, “The Poetry of Barack Obama [11]”. The editors did not correct the obvious error “know” for “now” in the last line.

    Sources

    [1]  Jack Kerwick. Jack Cashill’s Deconstructing Obama. American Thinker. February 25, 2011.

    [2]  Padmananada Rama. “Obama Heads To Hollywood; Conservative Group Mocks ‘Celebrity President’.” NPR. May 10, 2012.

    [3]  Hans A. von Spakovsky.  “Obama’s ‘Scandal-Free Administration’ Is a Myth.”  Heritage Foundation.  January 16, 2017.

    [4]  Linda Sue Grimes. “Literary Devices: Tools of the CommentarianLinda’s Literary Home. Accessed December 3, 2025.

    [5] Joel Gilbert. Dreams from My Real Father: A Story of Reds and Deception. Documentary. Trailer. July 24, 2012.

    [6]  Nancy Benac. “Obama’s Gramps: Gazing skyward on D-Day in England.” San Diego Union-Tribune. May 30, 2009.

    [7]  Cliff Kincaid. “The Red Diaper Baby in Obama’s Red Cover-Up.”  Renew America.  September 2, 2016.

    [8] Paul Kengor.  “What Obama’s Mentor Thought About General Motors.”  Forbes.  August 2012.

    [9] Eric McHenry. “Obama’s Oddest Critic.” Salon. July 17, 2012.

    [10]  Ian McMillan. “The Lyrical Democrat.” The Guardian. March 29, 2007.

    [11]  Editors.  “The Poetry of Barack Obama.” New York Times. May 18, 2008.

  • Sterling A. Brown’s “Southern Cop”

    Image:  Sterling A. Brown  Academy of American Poets

    Sterling A. Brown’s “Southern Cop”

    This commentary on Sterling A. Brown’s “Southern Cop” offers an alternative reading to the sycophantic interpretation given by postmodernists who subscribe to the prevailing ideology of victimhood.  The curse of identity politics soft censors such stances; thus they remain rare.

    Introduction with Text of “Southern Cop”

    While the speaker in Sterling Brown’s “Southern Cop” seems to be exposing and rebuking racism, he actually engages in racism himself. This widely anthologized poem features the following scene: A rookie cop named Ty Kendricks has shot a man who was running out of an alley. 

    The poem does not report the reason that the man was running nor the reason that the police officer happened to be at the scene.  However, the report clearly states that the man’s reason for running was not because of any guilt on his part. It is useful to keep in mind that the caveat stating that one is innocent until proven guilty applies to all citizens—even those who are running.

    The speaker of the poem purports to represent the outraged citizenry, whose emotional reaction is so powerful that the speaker must turn to verbal irony in order to convey that outrage. The outraged speaker assumes that his audience is as offended as he is and thus will agree with his statements on all levels. 

    But the speaker also assumes that a racist audience will take him literally, even though brushing away the irony would demonstrate the utter bankruptcy of his intentionally ludicrous exhortations. The ideas that because Ty Kendricks was a rookie in the process of proving himself and that the citizenry should decorate him for shooting an innocent man cannot be taken literally.

    The ideas of proving manhood and decorating a cop for shooting an innocent man are clearly absurd. The ideas are absolutely preposterous, yet the speaker does not suggest the course of action society should take in dealing with Ty Kendricks, the rookie cop, who likely made a mistake, without consideration of the race of the victim. 

    What does this rookie cop deserve? Who is to decide? An angry, disorderly mob? The speaker’s emotion becomes magnified with each stanza from the first line of the first stanza that would appear not to be ironic at all but quite literal to the first line of the last stanza that is undoubtedly filled with irony. 

    About half-way through the poem the irony becomes obvious. And the speaker then sets center stage his ironic barbs in his effusion.

    Southern Cop

    Let us forgive Ty Kendricks.
    The place was Darktown. He was young.
    His nerves were jittery. The day was hot.
    The Negro ran out of the alley.
    And so Ty shot.

    Let us understand Ty Kendricks.
    The Negro must have been dangerous.
    Because he ran;
    And here was a rookie with a chance
    To prove himself a man.

    Let us condone Ty Kendricks
    If we cannot decorate.
    When he found what the Negro was running for,
    It was too late;
    And all we can say for the Negro is
    It was unfortunate.

    Let us pity Ty Kendricks.
    He has been through enough,
    Standing there, his big gun smoking,
    Rabbit-scared, alone,
    Having to hear the wenches wail
    And the dying Negro moan.

    Commentary on “Southern Cop”

    This irony-filled drama portrays a bundle of rage and racism. The attitude of the speaker weighs in at least as heavily as the actual event that the speaker is decrying.

    Stanza 1:  Forgiveness Is Good

    Let us forgive Ty Kendricks.
    The place was Darktown. He was young.
    His nerves were jittery. The day was hot.
    The Negro ran out of the alley.
    And so Ty shot

    The first stanza opens with the speaker seemingly quite controlled as he suggests that he and his milieu “forgive” the young cop named Ty Kendricks. The invocation of the Christian value of forgiveness offers no clue that the speaker would not, in fact, forgive this rookie cop. Of course, the biblical injunction demands that  trespassers be forgiven.

    However, in this particular scenario, what is the speaker suggesting be forgiven? He is urging forgiveness of Ty Kendricks the rookie cop who shot an man because he was running out of an alley.  The speaker does not reveal the reason that the man was running, nor what caused the cop to shoot; the speaker is simply asking that the rookie be forgiven. 

    Stanza 2:  Understanding Is Also a Good Thing

    Let us understand Ty Kendricks.
    The Negro must have been dangerous.
    Because he ran;
    And here was a rookie with a chance
    To prove himself a man.

    Next, the speaker asks that he and his listeners “understand” the rookie cop. Of course, they should try to understand both the perpetrators of crime and the enforcers of law. Otherwise, justice cannot prevail without understanding. 

    But then the speakers’s audience is apprised of what they are being commanded to forgive and to understand: the man was surely dangerous/guilty because he was running.  Not only that, the rookie Ty Kendricks now has the opportunity to show himself to be a man.

    Because running does not equal guilt, and the notion of proving manhood by shooting someone is ludicrous, it now becomes clear that the speaker is engaging in verbal irony to portray his true message.  This speaker does not, in fact, want his audience to forgive nor understand Ty Kendricks, the rookie cop.

    What does the speaker hope to accomplish with his use of irony? He intends to brand Ty Kendricks a racist and elicit sympathy for the man shot by this cop. Of course, the man who was shot deserves sympathy, but the speaker offers no evidence that Ty Kendricks was a racist cop.  

    That fact that Kendricks shot a man running out of an ally does not equal racism, despite the fact that the running man was black. All things being equal, Ty Kendricks would likely have shot any man of any race in this situation.

    Stanza 3:  Condoning the Killing of an Innocent Man

    Let us condone Ty Kendricks
    If we cannot decorate.
    When he found what the Negro was running for,
    It was too late;
    And all we can say for the Negro is
    It was unfortunate.

    Condoning this apparently despicable act of a rookie cop shooting an innocent victim becomes a near surreal request.  But because the speaker is engaging in irony, he does not intend his listeners to “condone” but instead to “condemn” the rookie cop.

    The cop’s reaction of shooting the running man became just another “unfortunate” event by the time the cop learned the reason for the running.  But what is the efficacy of forgiving, condoning, and decorating a cop for a bad shoot? 

    The ironic use of the terms means that the speaker is in reality suggesting that his listeners continue to hold a grudge and to condemn cops, even those who might have mistakenly shot someone. The intensity of this verbal irony may possibly encourage speculation that the speaker is even attempting to instigate rioting, burning buildings, and killing other cops.

    Stanza 4:  Pity for All Involved

    Let us pity Ty Kendricks.
    He has been through enough,
    Standing there, his big gun smoking,
    Rabbit-scared, alone,
    Having to hear the wenches wail
    And the dying Negro moan.

    Finally, the speaker appears to return to some semblance of humanity, asking that he and his listeners “pity” this poor rookie cop.  Of course, the cop deserves pity. Or more accurately, he deserves sympathy and support. Taking the life of a fellow human being causes emotional damage—even to the most well-adjusted veteran law enforcement officer.

    And taking a human life constitutes a serious, deeply spiritual offense against Creation and the Creator, even though that Creator has arranged Creation to require such an offense at times. Even man’s law allows for self-defense.

    But notice that the speaker is still in his own racist venue, as he applies his final acerbic barb of irony: he does not, in fact, want his audience to pity that rookie cop. Instead, he wants his readers to pity only the family of the deceased man: they stood there crying and moaning the loss of their loved one. 

    The speaker asks us to pity the rookie only because that rookie has to listen to that crying and moaning.  By stating ironically that the pity should apply to Ty Kendricks and contrasting his situation with that of the deceased man and his family, the speaker is implying that any loss suffered by the cop remains negligible.

    But suffering cannot be compared and contrasted especially in such a callous way. There is no way of calculating and weighing the suffering on either side: it’s a lose-lose situation.

    Ultimately, there is no pity for Kendricks from this speaker and his ilk—only a hollow attempt to portray the cop as a criminal, not simply a human being who has made a mistake.

    The Issue of Racism in the Poem

    A cursory reading of Sterling A. Brown’s “Southern Cop” may result in the assumption of the stereotypical view that cops shoot young black men because they are black.  An example of such a reading includes the following:

    Sterling A. Brown’s poem “Southern Cop” published in 1936 is an extremely powerful piece of poetry in American history because it cuts at the heart of racism in America. Unfortunately, many of the points Brown makes are still relevant today. In fact, this poem could have been written after any number of recent events, Ferguson perhaps being the most well known, and it would be as pertenant (sic) as ever. [1]

    The claim that this poem parallels the situation in “Ferguson” is patently false.  The shooting in the poem “Southern Cop” and the shooting in Ferguson have nothing in common.  In the “Ferguson” shooting, the race of the cop who shot and the race of the victim are known.  In “Southern Cop,” the race of the cop can only be assumed—and then only prejudicially.

    The “Hands up, don’t shoot!” claim, following the shooting of black teenager Michael Brown by white cop Darren Wilson in Ferguson, Missouri, in August 2014, has been debunked repeatedly; yet its basic impetus has refused to be abated [2] [3] [4] [5].   In fact, the only racism discoverable in the poem”Southern Cop” comes from the speaker, who identifies the victim as a “Negro” but does not ever mention the race of the cop who shot the “Negro.”  

    Because the stereotype of white racist cops, especially southern cops, is so ingrained in the culture, the speaker feels no need to identify the race of Ty Kendricks, who could as likely have been of any race. But because of the assumption that the cop is white, the speaker demonstrates his own racism by his utter contempt; he is deliberately attempting to pit the race of the shooting victim against the race of the shooter. 

    The speaker demonstrates sympathy only for the “Negro” while he attempts to promote hatred and contempt for the cop. 

    Sources

    [1]  WESSWIDEREK.  “Southern Cop.” ENGL 213: Modernist Lit & Culture.  November 14, 2016.

    [2]  Noah Rothman.  “‘Hands up, Don’t Shoot’: The Myth That Refuses to Fade.”  Hotair.  December 03, 2014.

    [3]  Andrew C. Mccarthy. “Progressive Mythography.”  National Review.  November 29, 2014.

    [4]  Nick Gass.  “‘Hands up, Don’t Shoot’ Ranked One of Biggest ‘Pinocchios’ of 2015.”  Politico.  December 14, 2015.

    [5]  William A. Jacobson.  “Reminder: “Hands up, Don’t Shoot” Is a Fabricated Narrative from the Michael Brown Case.”    LI: Legal Insurrection.  June 4, 2020.

    Note on Usage

    Before the late 1980s in the United States, the terms “Negro,” “colored,” and “black” were accepted widely in American English parlance. 

    While the term “Negro” had started to lose it popularity in the 1960s, it wasn’t until 1988 that the Reverend Jesse Jackson began insisting that Americans adopt the phrase “African American.”  The earlier more accurate terms were the custom at the time that Sterling A. Brown was writing.

    Suggestion for Students Writing Papers on Sterling A. Brown’s “Southern Cop” and Other Sensitive Issues

    The following advice applies to students attending most American colleges and universities.  Exceptions are Hillsdale College and a few others, where the First Amendment and other constitutional protections are still operative.

    The current prevailing societal emphasis on identity and the politics of racial victimhood insures that my critical stance in this commentary is deemed unacceptable and will be at least soft censored, if not completely canceled.

    So if you take such a stance in your classes, you are likely to be graded down or even censored—at best.  At worst, you may be labeled racist, even expelled.   

    Therefore, please consider your options when writing on sensitive subjects like this one.  Know your professors’ biases and use caution in crossing them.

    However, the best outcome is that you are in position to take legal action against those professors who violate your constitutional rights. With such endeavors, I wish you all the best success.

  • Essays: Poems and Songs with Commentaries

    Image:   Van Gogh: The Complete Paintings

    Essays: Poems and Songs with Commentaries

    This room in my literary home holds links to poems primarily written by others along with my personal commentaries on the poems.   Some of these additions include commentaries that appear on HubPages.

    Thank you for visiting my literary home.  Questions, comments, and suggestions offered in good faith are always welcome.

    Poems with Commentaries

    Songs with Commentaries

  • Audre Lorde’s “Father Son and Holy Ghost”

    Image:  Audre Lorde 

    Audre Lorde’s “Father Son and Holy Ghost”

    In Audre Lorde’s “Father Son and Holy Ghost,” the speaker revisits memories of a beloved father, who has died and who served as a rôle model for moral and ethical behavior.  The speaker reveals her deep affection for her late father as she relives special features of her father’s behavior and her reaction to them. 

    Introduction with Text of “Father Son and Holy Ghost”

    Although Audre Lorde is well known as a black lesbian poet, who wrote on issues of identity, she also wrote more personal pieces that address themes common to all of humanity.  The death of a father is one such theme.

    In her elegy “Father Son and Holy Ghost,” Lorde creates a speaker, who is remembering various aspects of her father’s behavior while he was alive.  But she begins by strangely emphasizing that she has not as yet visited her father’s grave. 

    That admission alerts the reader that the poem is focusing on earlier memories.  While that first impression prompts questions in the reader’s mind, answers begin to form in the second movement.  Another question might be begged regarding the title and what it implies. 

    By invoking the Christian Holy Trinity, the speaker is implying that the spiritual nature of her memory will include three levels of understanding of the father:  he was the progenitor of the speaker (Father), he lived a life of consistent, respectable, and moral behavior (Son), and he revered his wife, the mother of his children (Holy Ghost). 

    Her admiration for her father is displayed in a Dickinsonian, elliptical style; the poet has not added any unnecessary word to her drama.

    For example, instead of merely stating that her father arrived home in the evening, grasped the doorknob, and entered the home, she shrinks all of that information in “our evening doorknobs.”  

    Because doorknobs remain the same whether it be morning, noon, evening, or night, the speaker metaphorically places the time of her father’s arrival by describing the doorknob by the time of day of his arrival.

    Father Son and Holy Ghost

    I have not ever seen my father’s grave.

    Not that his judgment eyes
    have been forgotten
    nor his great hands’ print
    on our evening doorknobs
                one half turn each night
                and he would come
                drabbled with the world’s business   
                massive and silent
                as the whole day’s wish  
                ready to redefine
                each of our shapes
    but now the evening doorknobs  
    wait    and do not recognize us  
    as we pass.

    Each week a different woman   
    regular as his one quick glass
    each evening
    pulls up the grass his stillness grows  
    calling it weed.
    Each week    a different woman  
    has my mother’s face
    and he
    who time has    changeless
    must be amazed
    who knew and loved
    but one.

    My father died in silence   
    loving creation
    and well-defined response   
    he lived    still judgments  
    on familiar things
    and died    knowing
    a January 15th that year me.

    Lest I go into dust
    I have not ever seen my father’s grave. 

    Commentary on “Father Son and Holy Ghost”

    In her elegy to her father’s memory, the speaker is offering a tribute the demonstrates a special love and affection, along with her deep admiration for his fine qualities.

    First Movement: An Unusual Admission

    The speaker begins by reporting that she has never visited her father’s grave.  This startling suggestion has to wait for explanation, but the possibilities for the speaker’s reasons assert themselves for the reader immediately.  

    Because seeing the grave of a deceased loved one is customarily part of the funeral experience, it seems anomalous that the speaker would have skipped that part of the ceremony. 

    On the other hand, because she does not tell the reader otherwise, she might have skipped the funeral entirely.  But whether the failure to visit the grave is associated with a close or distant relationship with the father remains to be experienced.  

    And oddly, either situation could be prompting that failure to visit the grave or attend the funeral:  if there is resentment at the parent, one might fail to visit in order to avoid those feelings.

    Or if there is deep pain because of a close, loving relationship with the parent, then seeing the grave would remind the bereft that that relationship has been severed.

    By choosing not to explain or even assert certain facts, the speaker points only to the facts and events that are important for her purpose.  And her purpose, as the title alerts, will be to associate her father’s death with profundity and devotion stemming from his deep religious dedication.

    Second Movement:  Not Forgotten 

    The speaker now asserts that just because she had not visited his grave does not mean that she has forgotten her father’s characteristics; she still remembers his “judgment eyes.”  

    Her father demonstrated the ability to guide and guard his family through his ability to see the outcome of certain situations, likely retaining the ability to encourage positive results. He was able to steers his children in the right direction.

    She also remembers his arriving home from work in the evenings, turning the doorknobs just a “half turn.”  It was likely it was the sound of that doorknob that alerted the speaker that her father was home.

    The father’s work has left him “drabbled,” but he was a large man and remained “silent,” indicating that he was a thoughtful man, who likely entertained a “whole day’s wish” to return home to his family.  

    He apparently paid attention to his children, likely instructing them to “shape” up, assisting them in becoming the respectable people he knew they could be.

    Now, those same “evening doorknobs” that sounded out under the grasp of her father’s large hand simply “wait,” for he will no longer be grasping them and entering his home every evening. 

    Oddly, those doorknobs can no longer sense the household members as they pass them.  This personification of “doorknobs” indicates that the speaker is asserting that anyone seeing those family members would see a changed lot of people—changed because of the absence of a father.

    Third Movement: Consistency of Behavior

    The speaker then reports that her father brought home a “different woman” every week, and his act of bringing home that different woman was always the same. He also remained consistent in taking only one glass of liquor and a small amount of marijuana.

    That the father grew in “stillness” suggests that he took the alcohol and weed simply to calm his nerves from the day’s work, not to simply get high.

    The speaker seems to be suggesting that those women supplied the “weed,” pulling a bag of the herbage up out of their bags.  (The terms “grass” and “weed” are slang labels for marijuana, along with “pot” and “Mary Jane,” and many others.) That the women suppled the weed is in perfect alignment with the father’s character: he likely kept legal alcohol in his home but not illegal products like “weed.” 

    That the father took only one drink and a limited amount of “grass” or “weed” becomes a characteristic to be understood and admired, even emulated.  His consistency has made a positive impression upon the speaker, and she remains content in observing with respect his even-tempered behavior.

    Repeating the claim of a “different woman” every week, the speaker remarks that each woman had her “mother’s face.”  She then asserts the reason for the women with her mother’s face is that her father “knew and loved / but one.” 

    She is likely employing the term “knew” in the biblical sense; thus she may be implying that her father’s relationship with those women remained platonic.  The speaker remains cognizant of the father’s consistent personality and behavior.  

    While it may be expected that a man would engage with other women after his wife’s death, that he remained attached to his wife’s visage and engaged sexually only with his wife because he loved only her remains unusual and makes its mark on the speaker’s memory. Her father’s respectability and morality have caught the speaker’s attention and those qualities remain in her memory of his behavior.

    Fourth Movement: A Well-Lived Life

    The speaker says that her father “died in silence.”  She asserts that he loved “creation,” and he lived in a way that appropriately corresponded with that love. 

    Because of the positive, admirable aspects of her father’s personality and behavior, she understands the appropriateness of his “judgments” especially “on familiar things.”  As he judged his family, he was able to guide them in appropriate and uplifting ways.

    That he died on “January 15th” signals that everything he knew about his daughter stopped on that date, and the speaker/daughter knows that anything she accomplishes after that date will remain unknown to her father.  Likely, she is saddened, knowing this limit will remain, and she has no way of controlling that situation.

    Fifth Movement: Life’s Fulfillment

    The speaker then asserts again that she has never visited her father’s grave, but in concluding, she claims that she had never done so because it might make her “go into dust.”  The biblical passage in Genesis 3:19 asserts, 

    In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.

    The speaker seems to imply that she fears her strong reaction to visiting her father’s grave might result in her own death. And while she may also be remembering the Longfellow quatrain from “A Psalm of Life,” featuring the assertion, “‘Dust thou art, to dust returnest’, / Was not spoken of the soul,” she is not ready to leave her physical encasement just yet.

    The ultimate atmosphere of the poem “Father Son and Holy Ghost” suggests a certain understated fulfillment in the father’s life:  he strived to live a moral, well-balanced, consistent life, which the speaker can contemplate in loving memory, even if she may not be able to celebrate openly by visiting his grave.  

    Image:  Audre Lorde and Gloria Joseph 

    Brief Life Sketch of Audre Lorde

    Audre Lorde was born on February 18, 1934, in New York City to Frederic and Linda Lorde, who came to the USA from Grenada.  Her father was a carpenter and real estate agent, and her mother had been a teacher in Grenada.  Frederic Lorde was known for his nature as a well-disciplined man of great ambition.

    Their daughter Audre became a prominent American poet.  Her works are filled with passion, making her lyrical verses a riot of emotion.  But she also took an interest in social issues, seeking justice for the marginalized members of society.

    Lorde began writing poems as a high school student; she published her first poem  [1] while still in school.  After high school, she attended Hunter College, earning a B.A. degree in 1959.  She then went on to study at Columbia University and completed an MLS degree in 1961.

    Publication

    Audre Lorde’s first collection of poems, The First Cities, was published in 1968 [2].   Critics have described her voice as one that has developed though profound introspection, as she examines themes focusing on identity, the nature of memory, and how all things are affected by mortality.

    She followed up The First Cities in 1970 with Cables to Rage.  Three years later she published From a Land Where Other People Live. Then in 1974, she brought out the cleverly titled New York Head Shop and Museum.

    Lorde continued to focus on personal musings as she broadened her scope with criticism of cultural injustice.  She often created speakers who run up against unfair modes of behavior.  She also touches on issues that reveal the nature of individual sensuality and the power of inner fortitude in struggles with life’s trials and tribulations.

    In her first mainstream published collection titled Coal, which she brought out in 1976, she experimented with formal expressions.  In 1978, her collection, The Black Unicorn, earned for the poet her greatest recognition as critics and scholars labeled the work a masterpiece in poetry.

    In her masterpiece, Lorde employed African myths [3], coupled with tenets from feminism’s most widely acclaimed accomplishments.  She also gave a nod to spirituality as she seemed to strive for a more universal flavor in her works.

    Legacy and Death

    Audre Lorde’s work has received many prestigious awards, including the Walt Whitman Citation of Merit.  She also earned a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts.  She served as poet laureate of New York from 1919 until her death.

    Lorde died of breast cancer on November 17, 1992, in St. Croix, Virgin Islands, where she and her partner Gloria Joseph had been residing since 1986.  Lorde’s physical enactment was cremated, and her ashes were scattered over the ocean [4] around St. Croix.

    Sources for Life Sketch

    [1] Editors.  “Audre Lorde.”  Poetry Foundation.  Accessed June 29, 2025

    [2] Curators.  “Audre Lorde Collection: 1950-2002.”  Spelman College Archives. Accessed June 29, 2025.

    [3] Njeng Eric Sipyinyu. “Audre Lorde: Myth Harbinger of the Back to Africa Movement.” Journal of Emerging Technologies and Innovative Research. May 2024.

    [4] Curators.  “Audre Lorde.”  Find a Grave.  Accessed June 29, 2025.

    Tricky Lines

    As Robert Frost admitted that his poem “The Road Not Taken” was very tricky and admonished readers “to be careful with that one,” the following lines of the third movement from Audre Lorde’s poem “Father Son and Holy Ghost” have proved tricky:

    Each week a different woman   
    regular as his one quick glass
    each evening
    pulls up the grass his stillness grows  
    calling it weed.
    Each week    a different woman  
    has my mother’s face
    and he
    who time has    changeless
    must be amazed
    who knew and loved
    but one.

    Scouring the Internet for analyses of Lorde’s poem, one finds a particularly absurd interpretation of those lines has taken hold.  That misreading states that every week a different woman comes to the father’s grave to pull up weeds, thereby keeping the gravesite neat, and each woman’s face reminds the speaker of her mother.

    However, that reading misses the mark for several reasons:

    1. Misreading of the Terms “Grass” and “Weed”

    It is quite obvious that the terms “grass” and “weed” are not literally referring to the botanical herbage, growing in abundance on the soil virtually everywhere, but are slang terms for marijuana.  

    Notice that the terms are used in juxtaposition to the father’s having “one quick glass,” an obvious reference to an alcoholic beverage.  Also note that the speaker uses the term “weed” not “weeds” which would be the plants excised to keep a gravesite neat.

    2. Misreading the Time-Frame  

    The speaker is looking back to when the father was alive and how he behaved.  The different women pulling weeds (“weed”) at a grave jumps forward to the father being dead and in his grave.  

    But the speaker is reporting that the father brought home a different woman each week, have one small drink, and engage a small amount of marijuana—all while he was alive.

    3. Forgetting the Speaker’s First Claim

    The speaker begins by stating that she has never seen her father’s grave.  There is no way she could have seen these different women pulling up weeds (“weed”) at his grave if she has never been there.

    4. Misreading or Forgetting the Setting

    All of the images in the poem point to the speaker’s setting the poem in the home, not at his gravesite. For example, “evening doorknobs,” “one quick glass each evening,” and “his stillness grows” all place the father in the home, not in a cemetery. 

    Stillness in this sense after death is an absolute, not a situation in which stillness can grow. If anything the decaying body might be thought of as the opposite of stillness with the activity of bacterial organisms ravaging the flesh.  

    It bears repeating because it must be remembered that the speaker has claimed she has never seen her father’s grave; so reporting on any activity at a his gravesite is impossible.

    5. Father-Daughter Relationship

    According to Jerome Brooks, Frederick Lorde, Audre’s father, was, in fact, “a vital presence in her life.”  Her father provided “the solid ‘intellectual and moral’ vision that centered her sense of the world.”

    Unfortunately, feminist critics have so overemphasized Audre Lorde’s identity as a “black lesbian” that they can assume only a railing against the patriarchy for the poet.  Her true personal feelings for the first man in her life must blocked in order to hoist the poet onto the anti-patriarchal standard.

    But as Brooks has contended, 

    In Zami, Lorde implies that her father, who shared his decisionmaking power with his wife when tradition dictated it was his alone, was profoundly moral. She also felt most identified with and supported by him as she writes in Inheritance—His: “I owe you my Dahomian jaw/ the free high school for gifted girls/ no one else thought I should attend/ and the darkness we share.”

    Reading vs Appreciating a Poem

    Reading and appreciating a poem are two distinctive activities. While it may be unfair to claim absolute correctness in any interpretation, still some readings can clearly be flawed because poems can remain Frostian “tricky.”  It would seem that it is difficult if not impossible to appreciate a poem if one accepts a clearly inaccurate reading of the poem.

    Still, it is up to each reader to determine which interpretation he will accept. And the acceptance will most likely be based on experience both in life and in literary study. 

  • .38 Special’s “Second Chance”: A Yogic Interpretation

    Image: .38 Special “Second Chance” Official Music Video

    .38 Special’s “Second Chance”: A Yogic Interpretation

    The song “Second Chance” expresses the very human regret that occurs after a relationship has been threatened by the unfaithfulness of one partner, but it also redounds to the broader human longing for forgiveness and renewal.  Being born a human being with the original taint of fallen humanity, the human heart and mind not only need a “second chance” given by a human partner but also need that “second chance” given by the Creator.

    Introduction and Lyric “Second Chance”

    The song “Second Chance” appears on Rock & Roll Strategy (1988), the eighth studio album by the southern rock band .38 Special, formed in Jacksonville, Florida, in 1974 [1]. 

    The band .38 Special took its name from the .38 Special revolver cartridge, after an event involving the police. In the mid-1970s in Jacksonville, Florida, while rehearsing in a locked shack, the band attracted police attention because neighbor complaining about the noise from the band’s rehearsal. 

    Unable to open the padlocked door, they heard an officer say he would let his .38 Special “do the talking” and shot the lock off. The phrase struck their fancy, so they adopted “.38 Special” as their band name for its gritty, humorous appeal. [2].

    The song “Second Chance” was written by keyboardist Max Carl, guitarist Jeff Carlisi, and songwriter Cal Curtis, and it was released as the second single from Rock & Roll Strategy in 1989 [3]. The song traces its origins to an early Carlisi–Curtis demo titled “I Never Wanted Anyone Else But You,” which was revised by Max Carl after he joined the band, producing the now-familiar repetition, “a heart needs a second chance.” 

    Carl’s lead vocals and the softer, introspective arrangement of “Second Chance” was a stylistic departure from the band’s earlier Southern rock sound. The track became the band’s highest-charting [4] U.S. pop single, peaking at No. 6 on the Billboard Hot 100 and No. 1 on the Adult Contemporary chart, expanding their audience beyond rock listeners.

    A Yogic Interpretation

    The song “Second Chance” is most commonly received and interpreted as a traditional pop ballad of romantic regret, but that superficial reading misses the lyric’s deeper implications. The lyric’s poetic economy, its chant-like repeated plea that “a heart needs a second chance,” and its focus on guilt admission and longed-for reconciliation suggest the universal human yearning for moral and emotional renewal.

    In a yogic interpretative frame, the chorus functions as a chant-like invocation to the Universal Father-Creator, elevating the listener’s attention above the earthly, material, interpersonal context of a human romantic relationship. 

    While the plea for forgiveness may certainly be directed toward a human partner, and of course in this song it is, still it also points to a larger spiritual and moral aspiration: the opportunity to amend past human error in order to restore soul integrity to become spiritually enlightened and self-realized. It aligns with John Donne’s “Holy Sonnets” in its recognition of past human error and craving for future soul renewal.

    Thus, “Second Chance” transcends the pop ballad genre, as it presents itself to be a reflective text concerned with accountability, grace, and the enduring human desire for transformation — qualities that align naturally with yogic goal of self-realization.

    Sources

    [1] Rock & Roll Strategy. A&M Records. 1988. On A&M Records official discography. 

    [2] .38 Special Official Website.  50 Years of 38 Special.

    [3].Brian Kachejian.“38 Special’s Best Song On Each Of Their Studio Albums.” 3 ClassicRockHistory.com. 2025,

    [4] Jennifer Tyler.  “Rock Moment – .38 Special ‘Second Chance’.” Houston’s Eagle Music Commentary. October 2, 2025.

    Second Chance

    Since you been gone
    I feel my life slipping away
    I look to the sky
    And everything is turnin’ gray
    All I made was one mistake
    How much more will I have to pay
    Why can’t you think it over
    Why can’t you forget about the past

    When love makes this sound baby
    A heart needs a second chance
    Don’t put me down babe
    Can’t you see I love you
    Since you’ve been gone I’ve been in a trance
    This heart needs a second chance
    Don’t say it’s over I just can’t say goodbye

    So this is love
    Standing in the pouring rain
    I fooled on you
    But she never meant a thing
    And I know I ain’t got no right
    To ask you to sympathize
    But why can’t you think it over
    Why can’t you forget about the past

    When love makes this sound baby
    A heart needs a second chance
    Don’t put me down baby
    Can’t you see I love you
    Since you been gone I’ve been in a trance
    This heart needs a second chance
    Don’t say it’s over I just can’t say goodbye

    I never loved her
    I never needed her
    She was willing and that’s all there is to say
    Don’t forsake me
    Please don’t leave me now
    A heart needs a second chance

    Yeah, you’ve been gone and I’ve been in a trance
    This heart needs a second chance
    Don’t say it’s over I just can’t say goodbye
    Please forgive me and forget it
    I was wrong and I admit it
    Why can’t we talk it over
    Why can’t we forget about, forget about the past

    (A heart needs a second chance)
    When love makes this sound baby
    (A heart needs a second chance)
    Don’t put me down babe
    You’ve been gone I’ve been in a trance
    This heart needs a second chance
    Don’t say it’s over I just can’t say goodbye

    (A heart needs a second chance)
    When love makes this sound babe
    (A heart needs a second chance)
    (A heart needs a second chance)
    When love makes this sound baby
    (A heart needs a second chance)

    Commentary on “Second Change”

    While this song remains a well-written lyric and beautifully performed video, it also points to a higher, spiritual urge that is basic to human consciousness: the desire for forgiveness of past errors and unity with the Ultimate Reality.

    Verse 1:  “Since you’ve been gone”

    Since you been gone
    I feel my life slipping away
    I look to the sky
    And everything is turnin’ gray
    All I made was one mistake
    How much more will I have to pay
    Why can’t you think it over
    Why can’t you forget about the past

    The speaker/singer is directly addressing his romantic partner.  It is not clear if they are married or if they simply live together.  It is clear that their relationship has been broken.  “Since you’ve been gone” clearly signals that the partner has left the relationship.

    Immediately, the speaker/singer confirms that he is devastated by the break-up.  He feels his life is leaving him.  The sky looks gray, nay, not only the sky but “everything is turnin’ gray.”  To the human being suffering in pain and anguish, all of nature seems to be a mass of unpleasantness.  

    Thus, the pathetic fallacy was born and employed in literary works.  Nature does not care that the human being is suffering, but to the sufferer everything looks different—including nature.

    The speaker/singer then admits that he made a mistake; it was just “one mistake,” but it was a highly destructive one, and it obviously hurt deeply his loved one so much that she has left him.  But at his point, the man is focusing on his own sorrow.  He asks her just how much suffering does he have to endure for just one mistake.

    He then asks her why can she not give the situation some thought and then do what he hopes for: that upon reflection she can forget about the past.  Forgetting about the past is actually a yogic injunction, invoked by Swami Sri Yukteswar in Paramahansa Yogananda’s  Autobiography of a Yogi:

    Forget the past. The vanished lives of all men are dark with many shames.  Human conduct is ever unreliable until man is anchored in the Divine.  Everything in future will improve if you are making a spiritual effort now.

    The man’s conduct has obviously been the result of human conduct being unreliable because he has committed this dark shame.  But does he not now have the right, even the obligation, to try to correct his past?

    Chorus:  “When love makes a sound, babe”

    When love makes this sound baby
    A heart needs a second chance
    Don’t put me down babe
    Can’t you see I love you
    Since you’ve been gone I’ve been in a trance
    This heart needs a second chance
    Don’t say it’s over I just can’t say goodbye

    The song’s next movement becomes its chorus.  The first chorus line “When love makes this sound, babe” remains rather empty if one is experiencing it only as text on a page, but the performance of the song, for example in the video, provides the sound of a crying guitar.  That painful sound-riff becomes the signal for something restorative.

    That something is “A heart needs a second chance.”  The important repeated line includes the title of the song itself.  The speaker/singer then commands his beloved one not to diminish him by putting him down; he then adds the extremely important claim, phrasing it as a rhetorical question, “Can’t you see I love you?”

    He loves her, and that love is at the heart of his suffering.  He would not be suffering, if he did not love her. Next, he begins to explain; thus, returns the first line “Since you’ve been gone” but then followed by his description of how he had taken her being gone: he has been in a trance, suggesting that his consciousness has been numbed, he is dazed, unable to completely engage in his own life.

    (It is such phrases “don’t put me down, babe,” and other conversational, talky language, and the use of the term “trance” that make this piece a song and not a poem.  For a song, it is exquisitely masterful; as a poem, it would be bordering on doggerel—a distinction that can be made about almost all popular songs, even some spiritually inclined hymns.)

    The next line “This heart needs a second chance” reappears for the second time, and at this point it becomes clear that this all important line is, indeed, the heart and soul of the song, its raison d’être.

    The final line of the chorus again is making the plea for his beloved not to leave him.  He does not want the relationship to end; thus, he fashions his plea as a command.  He simply does not feel that he is able to let her go.  He cannot say goodbye to the one he still loves much.

    Verse 2:  “So this is love”

    So this is love
    Standing in the pouring rain
    I fooled on you
    But she never meant a thing
    And I know I ain’t got no right
    To ask you to sympathize
    But why can’t you think it over
    Why can’t you forget about the past

    In verse 2, the speaker/singer engages in reflection about the nature of love.  The line “standing in the pouring rain” signals tears; this lost love has him crying real tears that so often appear in popular songs as rain.  He then admits his dark shame: he fooled around on his love one.  But he quickly assures her that the nature of that fooling around was simply or sexual gratification, for the woman did not mean anything to him.  

    He knows he cannot expect his loved one to “sympathize” with his explanation; still he want her to think it over.  Again, he is asking her to rethink losing the relationship, and again he suggests through a question that she “forget about the past.”

    Next, the chorus is repeated.

    Bridge:  “I never loved her”

    I never loved her
    I never needed her
    She was willing and that’s all there is to say
    Don’t forsake me
    Please don’t leave me now
    A heart needs a second chance

    The bridge finds the speaker/singer further revealing his true feelings.  He never loved the other woman; he never need her.  It’s just that she was willing to engage with him sexually; he took advantage of the situation, and he’d like to drop it because he has nothing further to say about his dark shame.

    The second half of the bridge again returns to the man’s pleading: don’t forsake me, don’t leave me (which he prefaces with “Please”), give me a second chance.  With that all important line “A heart needs a second chance.”

    Vitally Important Lines

    After the bridge, a repeat of some of the opening sentiments appears, and then these all important lines

    Please forgive me and forget it
    I was wrong and I admit it
    Why can’t we talk it over
    Why can’t we forget about, forget about the past

    The poor man makes one final plea, asking for forgiveness and asking the failure be forgotten.  Then confesses that he was wrong  and he is admitting his error.  Again, he suggests they talk it over, and hopefully “forget the past.”

    Innovative Form and Musical Intensity

    The song “Second Chance” exhibits a unique form.  While it displays some of the usual kinds of repetitions of songs, its final lines can plausibly be described as chant-like.  The vitally significant line, “A heart needs a second chance” is repeated, alternating with “when love makes this sound, babe” as the tune fades out.