"Dying unknown (5)" ; 24 May, 2023

10 May, 2023
Uploaded to ChatGPT for analysis
Poem “Dying unknown (5)”

Soman Ragavan : Hello. Can I post a poem for analysis, please ?

ChatGPT
Hello Soman! Of course, you can post a poem for analysis. I'd be happy to provide my thoughts and insights on it.
 
Soman Ragavan : My poem is called "Dying unknown (5)." This is about a man who lay dead in his flat in Norway for nine years. His death was discovered after nine years. Give an analysis by stanza then general comments. Make comparisons with other poems, writings, etc.

“DYING UNKNOWN (5)”


ChatGPT
The poem "Dying Unknown (5)" by Soman Ragavan is a poignant reflection on the tragic story of a man who lay dead in his flat in Norway for nine years before his death was discovered. The poem is divided into six parts and is structured as a dramatic monologue, with the deceased man addressing the reader directly.

Part 1 of the poem establishes the speaker's identity as the man who lay dead for nine years. He reflects on his life, saying that he sacrificed himself for others and faced many obstacles, but eventually succumbed to the indifference of others in his final years. The flat he lived in became a jail, and nobody cared for him even as he suffered and died.

In Part 2, the speaker reflects on the lack of attention he received even after his death. He remained unknown for nine years, and even his bills were paid automatically without anyone noticing his absence. He was consumed by creepy crawlies, and his death even contributed to global warming. The speaker reflects on how society did not care for him and how he died alone and unhappy.

Part 3 reflects on the speaker's lack of recognition even in death. He was removed from the list of voters, and the machines only registered his absence rather than his suffering. The speaker defiantly casts his vote against humanity, which he feels did him wrong.

In Part 4, the speaker wonders who will discover his death and what will be revealed about his suffering. He reflects on how his bones were moved and how society should pay for having moved them. He hopes that his story will be told to prevent similar tragedies from occurring in the future.

Part 5 continues the speaker's reflection on the injustice he faced in life and death. He feels that his bones should have remained a monument to man's inhumanity to man, and that society should pay the price for having moved them. He hopes that his bones will be a place of pilgrimage for those who seek to understand the tragedy of his life.

Finally, Part 6 reflects on the speaker's past experiences of being dissected and flayed, even when alive. He hopes that his malediction will be met by society for having moved his bones, and that his story will be told to prevent future tragedies.

Overall, the poem is a powerful reflection on the tragedy of a man who died alone and unknown, and the societal indifference that led to his death. The poem draws on religious imagery and literary references, including Shakespeare's tomb and proverbs about land inheritance. The poem is reminiscent of other works of literature that focus on social injustice and the suffering of the marginalized, such as "The Waste Land" by T.S. Eliot and "The Grapes of Wrath" by John Steinbeck.
 
Soman Ragavan : Thank you. Goodbye for now.

ChatGPT
You're welcome! Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any more questions in the future. Goodbye!

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                                                   POEM :
                                    DYING UNKNOWN (5)

                    [See the Notes in my poem "Dying unknown (1)"]

"Good friend, for Jesus' sake forebeare,
To digg the dust enclosed heare;
Bleste be the man that spares thes stones,
And curst be he that moves my bones."
--Words on Shakespeare’s tomb (1564-1616)

***
“Land was never lost for want of an heir.”
Quoted in : Sam Phillips : "3000 proverbs." New Delhi : Goodwill Publishing House, c 2017. Full acknowledgements are made to the authors, publishers and rights-holders.

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Part 1

Here lie I,
In my grave,
Kill’d by “humanity.”
For years struggl’d I,
For others did I sacrifice myself.
I toil’d away, I plodd’d on,
All obstacles I brav’d,
As long as I could,
Till my last breath.

In my final years,
I was dump’d by all,
‘Pon me roughshod they rode :
My heart they broke :
My heart they shatter’d.

The flat turn’d into a jail.
Some await a fast execution.
I await’d a slow, slow death…
Suddenly I fell.
Unknown to all.
My cries with the wind went.
No one knew.
No one car’d.

All institutions fail’d.
The country’s management fail’d.
All computer systems fail’d.
The country fail’d.
Public administration systems fail’d.
Social services fail’d.
Society fail’d.
Humanity fail’d.

Plenty of people around.
No one knew.
“Family” ne’er car’d.

Part 2

Society ne’er car’d.
My name was in many machines :
I disappear’d from the radar,
For nine years.
No one saw anything…

Even after my death my bills I settl’d,
Though I consum’d nothing :
No water,
No electricity,
No gas,
No telephone,
No Internet.
I produced no rubbish
For the town corporation to clean up.

Even my remains did not linger for long :
By the creepy crawlies were they clean’d up…

Sorry for the global warming
To which my cadaver contribut’d
For some time.
‘Twas beyond my control.
Sorry, I could not bury myself…
Pardon me…
I do apologise…

The arm’d forces patrol.
The warships, the submarines, the warplanes
Patrol.
They patrol.
They watch diligently.
They watch for external threats :
Internal tragedies nobody notices…

The radars watch.
Day and night they preserve life,
They preserve the nation.
In a flat,
A forlorn life was lapsing :
No one knew,
No one found out…
No computer in any office
Ever saw anything,
Other than the electoral watchers.

Part 3

My name was remov’d from the list of voters,
For lack of response from me.
The voters’ registers were what matter’d  :
That was all the machines detect’d…

Yet, my unending vote
Posthumously, defiantly here I cast:
“Humanity” did me wrong…
From my grave
My story will continue to vote :
Defiantly…

My skeleton for nine years lay :
No one knew.
Yet, plenty of folks wander’d around…
They knew not they liv’d near a morgue…

In one of the happiest countries,
I died an unhappiest death…
A saddest death…
A loneliest death…
A death that hath come back
To haunt humanity…

Others liv’d on in happiness…
May the country rise higher
In the index of happiness…
Some index…
With my death
The country should have reach’d the top
In any index…

Humanity about my suff’ring car’d not.
My bones fell noiselessly.
The creepy crawlies feast’d :
In my flesh they found a banquet…

Part 4

Which “human” will discover my death ?...
'Pon my skeleton wilt an autopsy be made :
Some autopsy…
My autopsy wilt be
An autopsy ‘pon BONES…
They will find out my last meal,
My last drinks…
My last disease…
Majestic, learn’d proclamations…
Big deal…

Wilt the autopsy reveal my suff’ring ?...
My agony ?...
My cries ?...
Someone, somewhere,
Near or far,
Must have seen my fate :
Of this tragedy wilt they not fail to narrate…

‘Pon “humanity” itself
My grave shalt do an autopsy…
“Humanity” cannot escape from yon autopsy…

In my lifetime was I ridicul’d as some joke :
This Elegy Written in a Town Churchyard (#1)
By some unknown bard,
Forever at “humanity” shalt poke. 
From my churchyard,
My grave,
Wilt my ghost
Rise and rampage…

Part 5

My bones should ne’er have been mov’d :
A monument should they have remain’d
To Man’s callousness and inhumanity.
For having mov’d my bones
Society shalt pay the price :
Here be the unending chastisement
In hither scroll set…

A place of pilgrimage should have been the flat :
My skeleton by all should have been contemplat’d :
Especially by those whose chests be inflat’d
By some vain pride : now, FLAK THAT !... 

I ne’er had an interment :
My BONES did…
My BONES were carried to my grave…
An interment were my disassembl’d BONES given :
For good measure, after the autopsy,
They should have re-cloth’d my bones…

Part 6

In my lifetime was I dissec’d : alive was I flay’d :
After my death was my cold skeleton hotly dissect’d :
My bones were examin’d as dinosaurs’ bones…
What a fate !... In the flat the creepy crawlies feast’d :
Yet, since long for my death had I in vain pray’d…
“Natural causes” they call’d it…
That should give society some good conscience…

From having mov’d my bones
Hath “humanity” been curst :
Throughout the sprawling, headless net
My raging malediction shalt be met !…
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--Soman Ragavan
--Mauritius (Indian Ocean)
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(#1 : after Thomas Gray's [1716-1771] "Elegy written in a country churchyard.")