Tragedy in Allen Ginsberg’s Sunflower Sutra and Tom Waits’ Small Change :: Sunflower Sutra

cataclysm in Allen Ginsbergs helianthus Sutra and Tom Waits handsome convinceIn both Allen Ginsbergs sun flowering Sutra and Tom Waits Small smorgasbord, calamity is the major premise for the blue and melancholy tone the authors sh are. In his poem, Ginsberg describes the fall of a mighty flower, the sunflower. erst a bright lily-livered beacon of life, it now is broken akin a battered cr accept. Having been coered by the dirt and grime of industry, by human ingenuity, this sunflower is actually representing a demise in humanity. or else than choosing nature as a prime example for life, choosing the perfect dishful of a sunflower, we submit chosen industry and technology, and have forgotten that we are flowers. Ginsberg berates the dust and grime which have rained down from the locomotives onto my sunflower O my spirit and wonders when did you forget you were a flower? This poem really is non approximately a flower, but the tragedy of losing ones inner beauty, the v ivacity and stylishness which makes one shine. Thus Ginsberg delivers his treatment of my soul to whoever shall listen in hopes that we, dissimilar the sunflower, do not second gray-haired in despair and gloom but shine brightly among the soot of the adult male we live in (Ginsberg 36-37). Similarly to sunflower Sutra, the lyrics from Small variety show pose a tragedy, which, though more concrete of a scene, shares all the gloom and weariness of the gray sunflower. In a Ginsberg-esque lyrical style, Tom Waits rambles through his lyrics (his mind), posing lifelike descriptions of the depths of life. His victim is not a flower, but someone by the separate of Small Change, who, when killed by his own thirty-eight, gains the headstone of a gumball machine on the street. The real tragedy in this song lies in the first transmission channel of the third verse And no ones gone over to close his eyes. Though at that place is enough cruelty in the world to kill Small Change for a fistful of dollars, there is not enough kindness to fill up his eyes to the cruelty which has slain him.Tragedy in Allen Ginsbergs Sunflower Sutra and Tom Waits Small Change Sunflower SutraTragedy in Allen Ginsbergs Sunflower Sutra and Tom Waits Small ChangeIn both Allen Ginsbergs Sunflower Sutra and Tom Waits Small Change, tragedy is the major premise for the sad and melancholy tone the authors share. In his poem, Ginsberg describes the fall of a mighty flower, the sunflower. Once a bright yellow beacon of life, it now is broken like a battered crown. Having been cover by the dirt and grime of industry, by human ingenuity, this sunflower is really representing a demise in humanity. Rather than choosing nature as a prime example for life, choosing the perfect beauty of a sunflower, we have chosen industry and technology, and have forgotten that we are flowers. Ginsberg berates the dust and grime which have rained down from the locomotives onto my sunflower O my soul and wonder s when did you forget you were a flower? This poem really is not about a flower, but the tragedy of losing ones inner beauty, the vivacity and brightness which makes one shine. Thus Ginsberg delivers his sermon of my soul to whoever shall listen in hopes that we, unlike the sunflower, do not turn gray in despair and gloom but shine brightly among the soot of the world we live in (Ginsberg 36-37). Similarly to Sunflower Sutra, the lyrics from Small Change pose a tragedy, which, though more concrete of a scene, shares all the gloom and weariness of the gray sunflower. In a Ginsberg-esque lyrical style, Tom Waits rambles through his lyrics (his mind), posing vivid descriptions of the depths of life. His victim is not a flower, but someone by the name of Small Change, who, when killed by his own thirty-eight, gains the headstone of a gumball machine on the street. The real tragedy in this song lies in the first line of the third verse And no ones gone over to close his eyes. Though ther e is enough cruelty in the world to kill Small Change for a fistful of dollars, there is not enough kindness to shut his eyes to the cruelty which has slain him.