In Cazenovia’s wooded glade, A settler’s son did dwell, With restless dreams and questions deep, No voice could ever quell. His father spoke of lands unknown, Of spirits old and wise, Young Eli searched to find the streams Where silver waters rise. One eve beneath the waning moon, He stole beyond the trees, Where whispered winds and sighing pines Sang secrets on the breeze. Through tangled fern and shadowed glen, He wandered far and wide, Till, by a stream of shining light, He saw her at its side. A maiden fair as morning mist, Her eyes like water deep, She gazed at Eli, still and calm, As one of storied sleep. “O child who walks the path of men, Yet longs for what is more, You bear a beast within your heart— A shadow at your core.” Her voice was soft as autumn rain, Yet heavy in its truth, And Eli felt his spirit quake As fears that rose from youth. “For in the dark, a serpent waits, Not flesh, nor fang, nor scale, But doubt and fear that grip the soul And tell a hollow tale.” With that, she faded like the foam, The stream was bare once more, Yet Eli knew his fate was cast— A trial lay in store. He wandered to the forest’s heart, Where strangling branches grew, And in the hush of tangled night, A breath of darkness blew. It coiled around him, cold and vast, And whispered in his ear, “You are too weak to walk this road; I am your rightful fear.” It filled his mind with shadowed doubt, His limbs began to fail, And sinking down upon the earth, He felt the darkness pale. The beast had won, and in its grip, He closed his weary eyes, Yet from the stream a voice arose— A whisper, soft and wise. “Rise up, young heart, and know your worth, Though fear may cloud the way, The serpent lives where courage sleeps, But falls to those who stay.” And so he stood with trembling hands, His will a flickering light, Yet step by step, he faced the dark, And challenged it to fight. It hissed and writhed and filled the air With every whispered lie, As Eli’s heart grew bold and bright, He met it eye for eye. “I am no slave to doubt or fear!” He cried into the night, “For though you live within my soul, I hold the greater light!” The serpent shrank, its darkness broke, Its voice became but wind, And in the hush of victory, The night grew soft again. Then by the stream, Ondina stood, Her smile as bright as day, “You’ve fought the war within your soul, And cast the dark away.” The forest sang, the waters danced, The stars shone fierce above, For Eli walked a freer path, His heart a flame of love. And so they tell, in woodland halls, Of Eli’s trial deep, Of beasts that dwell within the mind, And courage waking sleep.
It’s possible to interpret The Rime of the Ancient Mariner as an anti-slavery poem, though Coleridge never explicitly stated that it was written with that intention. However, several scholars have argued that the poem’s themes—guilt, suffering, and moral reckoning—resonate with contemporary abolitionist discourse.
Evidence for an Anti-Slavery Reading: 1. The Mariner’s Crime and Guilt: - The killing of the albatross could symbolize the destruction of innocence and the moral blindness of those who participated in the slave trade. - The Mariner's suffering and lifelong penance may reflect the deep moral stain that Coleridge believed slavery left on individuals and society.
2. The "Nightmare Life-in-Death" and the Slave Ship Imagery: - The ghostly ship with Life-in-Death and Death gambling for the Mariner’s soul has been compared to the horrific conditions aboard slave ships. - The description of the "rotting" ship and the suffering of the crew may evoke the inhumane treatment of enslaved people during the Middle Passage.
3. Connection to Abolitionist Language: - Coleridge was well aware of abolitionist literature and had condemned slavery in his essays and letters. - Some of his contemporaries, like William Wordsworth and Robert Southey, wrote more explicitly against slavery, and he was part of the same intellectual circle.
4. Moral and Spiritual Awakening: - The Mariner's redemption only begins when he recognizes the beauty of the natural world, which could parallel the idea that those complicit in slavery must come to see the humanity of the enslaved.
Possible Counterarguments: - The poem is deeply allegorical, and Coleridge may have been more focused on broader themes of sin, punishment, and redemption rather than slavery specifically. - Unlike some of his contemporaries, Coleridge never directly linked the poem to abolition in his writings.
Conclusion: While The Rime of the Ancient Mariner may not have been written explicitly as an anti-slavery poem, its themes align with abolitionist concerns. Given Coleridge’s personal opposition to slavery, it’s plausible that his views influenced the poem’s imagery and moral lessons.
You didn’t see the evil he had planned That makes you just as evil nonetheless With ignorance goes evil, hand in hand A silent guilt that no one can suppress In hidden gardens, weeds are darkly grown Unseen by eyes that choose such darkened place In knowing less, you reap the seeds you’ve sown And still you hide from truths you fear to face The quiet wrongs that flourish in the mind Are nourished by the choice to not inquire What harm is done by those who will not find The truths that burn, yet leave no trace of fire The greater evil lies not in the deed But in the hearts that chose to not take heed.
Upon the shores of Cazenovia's grace, An undine dances while the waters gleam, Her silken form reflected in the space, A fleeting vision, born of forest's dream.
Her eyes, like pools of tranquil, shaded deep, Hold secrets whispered by the moonlit skies; The breezes on the water softly sweep, As ripples play where silver silence lies.
Yet, though she glides in beauty through the night, Her spirit, bound to water's cool embrace, Can never know the dawn's full, warming light, For she is but a dream of this pure place.
The undine's song is quiet, soft, and true, A song of endless, gentle shades of blue.
Amidst the verdant glade where moonlight weaves, A fairy wakes within her fragrant throne. A bud of emerald, wrapped in silken leaves, Her gown of green, by nature finely sewn. Her wings, like whispers, shimmer in the night, With golden veins that hum a quiet tune. She dances soft beneath the silver light, A wisp of wonder bathed in leafy bloom. The forest sighs as breezes brush her hair, Entwined with petals kissed by evening’s glow. She floats on laughter, lighter than the air, As vines caress the earth where magic grows. Oh, gentle sprite, in nature’s arms embraced, This fleeting dream will never be erased.
There once was a digger named Dug, Much more than a big furry bug. With claws built to tunnel, Through dirt near a runnel, It nested all cozy and snug.
This Dug, it once tunneled with glee, And paused by a young maple tree. Then said with a nibble, “I hope you won’t quibble— If I snack on your roots, tenderly!”
The world is getting smaller every day That means, of course, I must expand my mind Perceptions always change, and that’s okay Just think of all the joy there is to find
In Africa I found another tongue In Russia there were dolls inside of dolls I went to London once when I was young I find it best to listen when it calls
The “it” of course is my humanity I find it tends to be a source for good The goodness of a world that’s fair and free I try to know and do the things I should
Each person is at least as good as me I’m just one piece of all humanity. ----------
These AI images of Lolita are all generated by deepai.org using the following sonnet as the text prompt:
Lolita’s eyes are nothing like the sun; Her cheeks are pale, not rosy like dawn’s hue. If beauty were a game that could be won, She’d break the rules, then redefine them too. Her lips are chapped, yet sweet as sugared lies; Her voice, a lilting tune of teasing airs. No goddess walks with childish, scuffed-up thighs, Yet in her sway, divinity declares. I’ve seen pink skies, where innocence once roamed, And yet her glance outstrips their fleeting grace. A fractured Venus, both adored and loathed, Her smile mocks time, her laughter rewrites space. And yet, in all her cruel, untamed deceit, I burn to trace the shadows at her feet.
A girl of summers, youth's eternal flame, Her laughter rings like bells through forest halls. Dolores Haze, a fleeting, tender name, Whose shadow dances where the sunlight falls.
Her gaze reflects the sky's cerulean hue, Yet holds a world no child should ever know. A stolen innocence, a heart askew, Trapped in a tale where loveless sorrows grow.
She skips through days with wild, unbridled mirth, A sprite who rules her fleeting, golden sphere. Yet whispers haunt the edges of her earth, A fragile dream beset by doubt and fear.
Lolita now, the echo of her song, A fleeting star in darkness, burning strong.
Oh Lilith, how you move through every space, Your steps, so quiet, leave no trace behind. I watch you close, though I can’t show my face, A pull so strange, it drags me from my mind.
Your voice is soft, like whispers in the night, A song that sings but never quite is heard. I feel it stir beneath the pale moonlight, A haunting, deep, unspoken, like a word.
I wonder if you see me watching still, If you can feel the way my heart beats fast. I know you don’t, but still, I want to thrill In knowing that you’re close—yet, I’m outclassed.
I dream of being near, though I remain, A shadow, bound to you by silent chains.
