I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets.
I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road.
At night I turn back the clocks;
I open the family album and look at myself as a boy.
What good does it do? The hours have done their job.
I say my own name. I say goodbye.
The words follow each other downwind.
I love my wife but send her away.
My parents rise out of their thrones
into the milky rooms of clouds. How can I sing?
Time tells me what I am. I change and I am the same.
I empty myself of my life and my life remains.
Although this poem is rather melancholy and depressing, it really caught my eye for some reason. Strand fears the future, for he turns back the clocks and looks at old photographs instead of looking ahead. Instead of appreciating life for all that it is worth, he focuses on how death seems to be looming just around the corner, and it seems that he does not want to become too attached to anything in his life because soon he will be dead. I especially liked line 11 “I change and I am the same,” because it reminded me of the saying that the more things change the more they stay the same; perhaps he believes that no matter what he does, he cannot change his fate.
I agree with all that you have to say about this poem. It seems like Strand is living in the past…he really sounds as you said, melancholy, and depressed..you can almost hear him sigh ” What good does it do? The hours have done their job.” The image of his parents rising into the clouds is reminisent of heaven and the afterlife. When Strand says “How can I sing?” it reminds me of funerals and sometimes the last thing you want to do is speak or sing. You just want to bask in that solitude.
It’s important to note that Strand himself comes to a conclusion in the end of the poem :No matter how much he wants to “say goodbye” HE is still alive..his life remains.
when i read this poem i thought of our discussion in class about what’s the point anyway, because inevitably we are going to die. Like strand says, the hours will do its time. it’s almost as if he has alread except this, and is in a way ready for death. However, he empties himself and his life still remains.
time tells me who i am…
its as if he’s looking to the past to determine himself and what he’s worth, which is an interesting way to look at life.
i’m nobody
who are you?
are you nobody, too?
get rid of the idea of yourself, and then see what you’ve got left. trust something’ll be there. i know it will…