Nowhere To Go


A Xanadu poem

Gone, gone, gone into the dark spaces! 
the lost lovers and friends we knew, 
all gone with their lovely faces
into the tombs of time. You, too.

You, my love, once so beautiful—
a rose in the gardens of fever!—
once loving, once loyal and faithful,
you have scored your last kiss for ever.

Your eyes have turned to dust, my darling, 
and no one now knocks on your door. 
Rest in peace in your narrow dwelling— 
there’s nowhere to go any more.

— XANADU, Translations from a Lost Language

11 thoughts to “Nowhere To Go”

  1. Chances of getting a brand spanking new body – 99.8%
    And deserve has everything to do with it.

    “Those who worship the demigods will take birth among the demigods; those who worship the ancestors go to the ancestors; those who worship ghosts and spirits will take birth among such beings; and those who worship Me will live with Me.” (Bhagavad Gita 9.25)

    1. @ Hp

      I’d like to think so too, as per your excellent quote, which I think you have made more than once. But how can we be sure that this is how it is, just because the Gita says it is?

      No disrespect intended.

      On the contrary, I would love to believe that what the Gita says is 100 per cent true, but I am left with the sad feeing that this Gita insight must be taken as an article faith, an article of faith that can never be proved to the satisfaction of everyone.

      It’s the same with the most basic “truths” of the Oriental religions, including such concepts as “karma” and “reincarnation” which you will also find clearly adumbrated in the New Testament. There is not a shred of factual or scientific evidence, however, that such concepts have a verifiable existence. We must take them on trust.

      Those who search for truth, it seems to me, must make the most valiant efforts to avoid wishful thinking. Don’t you agree?

      1. Faith (Trust) and Proof (Realization) are different.
        Faith is believing the pudding contains the proof.
        Realization is in the tasting of the pudding.

        Srila Prabhupada: One may come to the bottle filled with honey, but simply by licking the bottle, what taste he will get?
        The honey must be opened. Then if you taste, you will know what is honey.”

    1. Xanadu’s bleak portrayal stems from a reality that sadly came to be (or will COME to be), but it only signifies one which doesn’t HAVE to be, you might say.

      This is where the admonition of “true faith sees with a knowing heart” is best represented 😀

  2. This good piece is obviously written by someone who has believed in reincarnation, but begins to consider it more seriously as she gets nearer to realizing her mortality. I recognize it because it has happened to me, too. However, recognizing our mortality does NOT preclude the possibility. We should “not pay attention to Jewish myths and commandments of men who turn away from the truth” according to Paul, in his letter to Titus 1:14. I believe we SHOULD trust our instincts on the matters. It is by faith that we assure ourselves of better results. “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)
    Xanadu needs only consider the ancient achievements, such as the building of the great pyramids in Egypt, as proof of “other worldly influences” over the realm we know. That mankind (or a facsimile thereof) could conceive and encrypt this Internet and its ordering devices proves to ME there are many unseen things we mortals don’t understand. It is given to some. Trust THAT.

  3. @ Gilbert Huntly

    You speak wisely, based on your own life experience, even Hp and Pat and Brownhawk speak wisely from experience. I am absolutely sure Xanadu agrees with you, with all of you, especially in your instinctual belief that life hold infinite surprises and unknown possibilities. What she writes is simply melancholy mood music. She feels sad and wistful, so she sings a sad song. It’s not the function of poetry to be insincerely cheerful.

    1. In keeping with the nature of this poem….

      To view Jesus as a fictional character shows that the viewer has fallen for the Judaic narrative of the true identity of “Christ”.
      Judaism supports the existence of the Great Yugic Cycle without necessarily stating it in so many words.
      The promise of Jesus for inhabiting an immortal “Xanadu” existence in an Earth-like setting is contingent upon the removal of this material cloak, an endeavor which has been long in the works….

      1. …..removal of the cloak is the true meaning of “Apocalypse”, what is to be revealed

  4. Given poetry, song, and dance (PSD, for short) — perhaps we can insert a word beginning with the letter “t”. How about “tragedy”? Then we shall have PTSD. What would PSD offer universally without the “T”? Lest you think this frivolous, off-topic, demented, etc., “Narcissus”, I shall dare to share a personal note, based on experience without the foundation of specifics.

    Ever lost a father or mother or sister or brother, a dear, dear friend, a loved dog or other fellow being (“pet” or, more likely, a dear friend, cross-species-wise) prematurely, unexpectedly? Perhaps after a long battle with cancer or other “untreatable”, “incurable” disease? To the heart-centered Infinite Well of Sadness and Grief we have to go, hardly knowing our destiny or our destination. Tears flow, heart aches. Thoughts turn to ELSEWHEN. Back THEN, not here & now. Thoughts of “could’ve, would’ve, might’ve” pour through the wound. The feelings dissipate, die to immediate consciousness and, eventually, to retrievable memory, save for pictures, writings, and such.

    As we go, so Time progresses. The bell in the tower rings in another hour, one ahead of that behind. No accounting for time. How one deals with the sudden, unexpected departure from one’s living Life day-to-day of loved ones predicts with certainty how we shall deal with the inevitability of passing from this (material) plane.

    I appreciate very much the poem, a stark reminder.

  5. The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
    Dylan Thomas – 1914-1953


    The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
    Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
    Is my destroyer.
    And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
    My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

    The force that drives the water through the rocks
    Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
    Turns mine to wax.
    And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
    How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

    The hand that whirls the water in the pool
    Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
    Hauls my shroud sail.
    And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
    How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.

    The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
    Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
    Shall calm her sores.
    And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
    How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

    And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
    How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

    VIDEO RECITATION : 1.27 mins

Comments are closed.