Critically examine the postmodern poem of the greatest inventive genius of twentieth century poetry, The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock.

T.S. Eliot’s Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock is substantially pontificated by the readings of Grover Smith’s discovery of Henry James’s story Crapy Cornelia about a chivalrous heroic charismatic personae in nostalgic temperament for being fallen in love despite polarized worlds. To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead, Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all———Should say: “That is not what I meant, at all. That is not it, at all.”

Verbosity of Polonius oriented Prufrock is cast in the image of Hamlet like dilemma upon the portentous questions touched by the magical boudoir of Lazarus comments upon the appealing picture of plight; despite baroque verbal embroidery of the afterthought along with the women come and go telling of Michelangelo marred by the deterrent of wondered fogg in the moorings of “Do I dare?” and “Do I dare?”

Prufrock’s deluded and diseased existentialist psychosexual spirituality reanimates after all the captivity of brooding alienation in the salvation from the redemptive quest towards security and non vulnerability. Mermaids are thought to be elusive and mystic fantastic beasts as byproducts of Eliotic phantasmic escapism. This solitude of the phantasmagoria world, shuffling memories and repressed desires ultimately pioneers ship wreckage of humanity. Harsh voices and harsh laughter of the women summoned upon the Prufrockian spirit from the shadowed archways and diabolical gothic apartments; along with drunkards reeling by chattering and cursing like monstrous beasts and grotesque children in awaital by the doorsteps and heard shrieks and oaths from the gloomy courts.

Whatmore is interesting of these mermaids fantasy is the imaginary wanderlust of Prufrock’s metaphysical asylum from being “pair of ragged claws/scuttling across the floors of silent seas” Furthermore textual genesis of Prufrockian spirit in metaphorical and rhetorical language exists as the new art emotion as well as the patient corpse—-the body post operative and post catalysis of sulfurous acid since emotional experience undergoes transmutation and transformation following depersonality of split consciousness and dissolving towards climactic dissolution of poetic personality/selfhood.

Nonetheless textual frustration and gender performativity of this dramatic monologue investigates heterosexual desire and heterosexual intercourse through colloquial euphemism as implied by “Let us make our visit”. Moreover, biblically the Hebrew double entendre of know implicates masculinized libidinal object of male gaze through the sexual encounter. “I know the voices dying with a dying fall” implicates the lovesickness of Twelfth Night Orsino and in this case, Prufrock masculine desire for the eroticization of the feminine corporeality. Orgasm of dying little death echoes masculine heterosexual desire; yet the insidious intent of orgasm happens spatially in the “farther room”.

Further Reading
“Till Human Voices Wake Us and We Drown”: Community in the Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock, James C. Haba [Glassboro State College] , Modern Language Association, Spring 1997, Vol. 7, No. 1, pp. 53-61, Modern Language Association

Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, November 1957, Vol. 19, No. 2, pp. 71-72, National Council of Teachers of English

The Textual Genesis of The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, Catalyzing Prufrock, Nicholas B. Mayer [University of Oxford], Journal of Modern Literature, Vol. 34, No. 3, Spring 2011, pp. 182-198, Indiana University Press.
Textual Frustration: The Sonnet and Gender Performance in “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”, Brian Clifton [University of North Texas], Journal of Modern Literature, Vol. 42, No. 1. Fall 2008, pp. 65-76, Indiana University Press.

Prufrock and Other Observations: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, A Guide to the Selected Poems of T.S. Eliot, B.C. Southam, A Harvest Original Publication.

CHANGING LIFE

Why our everyday is the same
It is not a blame.
It is not even gratitude
It is a desire to be improved.

Why to go to work everyday
Why to live for only salary
Why to be only in normality
Can’t we change our way?

It is zeal to improve gradually
This way will work effectively
We will be factors for ourselves
For being people succeeded perfectly.


BIRTHPLACE

In the sky, there is a white cloud
As calling you, I enunciate loud
I’ll be devoted, I could
Uzbekistan, you are my proud.

People are conscientious, genius
Fertile soils, gardens-gorgeous
All crops are, there, delicious
You have a history glorious.

Invariably, we are hilarious
Even, in period of Coronavirus
Because of your inspiration
Teenagers are inclined, vivacious!

There are incredible countries, in the world
They are said “Frabjous” in other word
Anyway, I can say that is right
Uzbekistan, you are my pride!


ADOLESCENCE

In the life, the unforgettable period is adolescence
All know that is right, from own sense
Everybody says from experience
Childhood is the best remembrance.

Ask from any oldster
“Which period do you prefer?”
They respond without hesitation
Adolescence will be the best “Option”

Adolescence is full with pleasure
I would say that “YES” for sure
If it hadn’t been rapture
People, passed from childhood would be nutter.

Briefly, do not squander childhood
Otherwise, you will be regretted
When you are oldster
Completely, you will be missed.


LOVING HER

The beauty I’ve seen ever
I will forget her, never
I didn’t feel any bother
I wanna be with her forever.

I feel her hands every night
For her, I won’t turn back from fright
I imagine being with her at sight
it’s my estimated destiny-bright.

I know nothing is impossible
In this life, everything is enforceable
What I want is reasonable
I realize I am capable.


Mirakhmedov Jonibek Umid ugli
He can be reached at mirakhmedovjonibek@gmail.com

After my dad’s funeral

After my dad’s funeral, my mother got married to a butcher. I cried until I lost my voice, and then somebody I didn’t know transplanted a flower into my throat. Later, I became a one-eyed cat who could fly from mouth to mouth. I was light like a daydream masking the face of an immigrant child. The butcher coughed savagely, shaking his iron long tail to disturb me. I felt hungry, running toward my mother’s thigh to ask for a new chance. She said: no way, babe. He is our god. Just kneel before him. Just be a good girl.

I crawled into a corner, burying my face into the torn curtains calculating the distance between heaven and my father’s coffin. I wanted to be there. I wished to make a candy from the silky clouds& send it to him. I desired badly to meet his god and ask him if he was real or surreal. My stepfather gets closer. He holds scissors in one hand, and a cactus in the other. His grin swallowed the room.

Ode to my grandmother

My grandmother is an Alzheimer’s patient.
Last year she lost a tooth and memory. She began to confuse laughing with crying.
She started wearing our curtains, dating a late actor, and playing cards with my Shirazi cat.
“I love you, Granny” I always say. But she looks the other way waiting for Azrael.
She tells me how beautiful she used to be when she was my age.
I smile. My grandmother says she had a hoopoe once but couldn’t remember where he went. Maybe he hid in my chest? She wonders
she touches her nipples as if she tries to discover something new about them.
My little hoopoe, I miss you! She says with tears in both eyes.
The moment her last tear kissed the floor, I heard a sudden and strange sound coming from within, and then, just then my grandmother was gone.

The Trail

As usual, Israfil blows the trumpet. I sit on the edge of an animal’s tongue,

Thinking about how many times God massaged my neck.

The sky pours out random rumors about the curse of the Pharos.

I wave at a chimpanzee who looks like my father. We laugh.

I see a familiar face who reminds me of a popular leader.

Now he has turned into a clove flower.

How long were I here weaving more fairy tales over living and dead?

A cherry tree wears a rosary, buzzing like a bumblebee.

I am looking for anything to blame God for. The last hour will come after a few seconds.

When my face becomes a starfish, and when the sun gets smaller to fit the size of my pocket,

When water fills my grassy mouth, I begin to count the scars carved around my belly.

A lot of moons and poems mixed with my blood. Do you know laughter?

I ask God, who hasn’t a throne or golden chairs. He squeezes my hand and whispers into my ears, I am the inventor. Three little angels engrave the first letters of their names on the tree of paradise. I run, wondering how Adam and Eve ate each other.

I still hear the breaking news, although this is my second death.

God was holding a pair of scissors, managing to touch the tip of my nose.

Everything is purple. Another version of me was crucified to a wall.

I kneel on a prayer mat. Butterflies circled around my body.

Now I understand that I am preparing for a new death. Good girl,

Israfil says. I smile, swallowing more stars. God knows how to create entertainment.

The crime

Someone knocked me down& mailed my corpse to a floating cavern.

Each part of my body sings a lullaby.

Sometimes I hear elephants telling a folk tale.

Sometimes I hear frogs drumming out of my ear.

The angel of death boils a banana to feed his young.

I am sweating wondering if the hell was a short joke.

A blind woman shedding her skin. She has a witch’s fingers.

I look into her eyes& it takes me to a tulip garden.

My arm turned into a wise man.it talks to me as if he spent all his life as a philosopher.

I kneel among many little moons.

God is nearby, wearing a grand hat made of milky cloud.

Talk to me, he says pointing his finger to an upper window.

I have a genie inside, I say.

God laughs. This is an old joke.

I try to kill myself, but I remember that I am already dead.

The man who slaughtered me was an artist.

He knows how to squeeze castor oil into my fully open eyes.

Transformation

I dream of cockatoo birds sipping milk from the sky

I fly from corner to corner holding sugar, wine, and more funny jokes.

God is up sitting on his throne watching how the earth dances under my bare feet.

Kisses, wishes and more than that riding silver horses.

Creamy cloud falling down close to my head singing an old song.

My bones covered by the rhythm. My tongue turned into a butterfly. I sway in the air thinking of the worlds I pass dreaming of more honey rivers to have more fun, wondering how many orphan girls still live within me.

I try to raise both hands throwing them to a new universal castle. I feel new again. I sense more than being alive. There is something beyond happiness. There is delicious beyond joy.

Believe me, there is music you have never heard of.

Hallucinations

I had a dream of cows lead some people;

Who were humming an old-fashioned poem.

The sound of the flute was coming out from the teeth of an ancient Oak tree.

In that dream also, there was a moon and a half falling into my mother’s lap

She was stitching a great piece of the sky upon the little heads of three terrified cats.

I had a dream of being a gorilla

The dirt was caked perfectly with my fingers

I was another version of myself

Peeping into another world

Bathing in another water.

My body had billions of rooms

Empty ones without guests.

I was closed to be a river

But the temptation to be something bigger

Made me kneel

Swerving like a verse

Hovers like an angel’s napkin.

Shivers like a love song

In a poet’s chest.

Rule Over Ashes

In my country where shadows loom,

Ruler cast a pall of gloom.

When Justice Call,

Students stands tall.

They sacrificed their lives,

Answering the call.

They accepted martyrdom,

To bring justice for all.

To rule a nation

To rule a country,

Killing is the only key

Ruler thinks as glory.

Thousands were killed

Thousands were harmed,

Rule over Ashes

Is the way she learn.

If cruelty brings you joy,

Then you’re no human.

If you enjoy ruling over dead bodies,

Then you’re no human.

A heart of flesh, full of compassion,

In merciless acts, finds no fashion.

In false joy finds only hollow,

A human’s path they cannot follow.

Every single life matters

Is the song we play,

In the blink of time

Justice leads the way.

When darkness falls

We’ll light the night,

With patience and hope

We’ll set things right.

Harmful habits that damage the mind

Today, as every field is becoming more perfect, harmful habits are also increasing. At the same time, the only thing that is required from humanity is awareness, vigilance, and at the same time, not obeying the ego.

As the other side of the coin, as new technologies are created, various flaws and dangers are increasing. Accordingly, efforts are being made to ensure security.

Nowadays digital technologies are the most developing field. For example, we can receive and transmit information on a global scale through social networks. We can make different friends, have multiple online achievements, communicate with loved ones from a distance through lighting-fast communication, in this regard, earn money from home through various business methods, and gain a profession through useful sites and applications. 

We can find useful aspects. But despite this, various fake clone sites, programs, dangerous streaming channels, hackers are poisoning people's brains and forcing them to band their heads against the wall. 

If we give an example, the above situations cannot be avoided by every person. In this case, a person should not be a slave to ego, he should be careful. At the same time, people suffered a lot, some managed to get out of this way, and some did not. 

Those who have received appropriate training are working to ensure security and raise awareness to fight against these factors.

That's why people are advised to always use social networks wisely, check their legitimacy, and not lose security. When this is followed, I think you will have a peaceful and enjoyable life.

Seven Souls 

(The Dogs in my Life)

• for all of them everywhere 

Kelly (a Beagle Sensitive and Kind)

When I was a kid that was our dog. She sat in her place after school and kept me company, but when I was sick she knew and came to sit beside me. At other times I let her sit on the couch with a pillow which wasn’t allowed but if nobody was around I let her and she loved it. Kelly would wag her tail a lot and loved to see people, guests. I think back at her with good memories and sitting with her on say, those winter days and looking out the window at the snow falling onto the world. 

Poocho (the Tender and Instant Family Member)

He was a rescue and already had some years. A great old lab. But he had a good run as it were with us and was provided a nice home with two parents and kids, three kids. He went camping with us, and for walks in the local trails and ravines. Basically he was perfect in that he caused no trouble and just wanted to be around us. He had a comfy old chair he sat on and liked to sleep on. Sometimes people would ask why we kept that chair but they didn’t understand. I am happy that we here gave him a nice few years before he had to go the great dog fields in the sky. 

Wolfe (the High Spirit and a Best Friend)

A special dog in all ways. A rescue husky mix. They said collie-husky. Long legs. A certain aloofness he was grey and white and black and everyone stopped to look at him. Fast. Smart. Interesting. Unique. He is running somewhere up there and having a good time. Down here we certainly went far and often to fields and forests.  

Tessa (all Bark and Sits in my Heart)

Tessa recently passed but I am glad she is not in any more pain though I and everyone miss her and always shall. She was a companion that had the truest loyalty and heart. She was always a sort of old lady in that she didn’t want to go far exploring though did like to walk. In the hey-day she played and walked with her brother Wolfe and we did everything we could each day to have a healthy and good life. 

Indy (Handsome and Tara’s Birthday Gift)

Indy is a beautiful light hair collie, long and handsome, and Tara’s dog. He likes everyone though. He is very sensitive and his coat is wonderful and a bit longer than the others. He likes to run fast and take care of his younger sister Luna. Josh brought him home one September for Tara’s birthday and he fit in instantly and it’s been great. 

Luna (the Looney that we All Love)

Luna we went and got from Barrie Ontario, and she is half husky, the colour white, short hair, and has a strong spirit to say the least. She is afraid of nothing and likes to swim, play, wrestle, but also cuddle and just chill. She keeps everybody on their toes and is a great, great member of our family. 

Nova (a Spirit Strong)

Nova is our niece Diane’s dog. She lives with us right now because our niece does. I love Nova and she sometimes follows me around. She is a wonderful dog, who has learned to go to the forest trails with us. She isn’t crazy about going in the water, but went into a little nice cold stream briefly today and seemed okay with it. Nova is a black dog, and her coat seems to shine. She has a kind and inquisitive look in her eyes as she looks at you and the world. 

Raquel Bianca Barbeito (the artist) is a student of Animal Biology at The University of Guelph in Ontario, Canada. She is also a painter and has done commissioned work for clients who want custom animal portrait creations.  Raquel works on canvas with acrylic paints. 

——

The Light Reaching Out


Night shades
compressing into the corner windows


setting the scene
blurring of dreams


walls and ceilings
slow leaning inward


beyond the outside buildings
dimly lit


someone
quietly whistling


much has happened
much will continue


cancer webs hanging from the roofs
so many marked for the sting


political pillows given away freely
spider roots


the masses shadow banned
but more are beginning not to blink


open windows here and there
candle lights glowing in closets


a shot sounding
and the whistling snuffed


thoughts shrink
stillness overwhelming


but there's always some that break
loose


lips moving
prayers filling hollow ears


so many repeating
as when a child


the longness of centuries
giving a tune to the heart


silence
seized


light opening their windows
as the whistling resumes
stronger than ever before.