Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Robert Creeley’s poem "Body" is a stark meditation on the aging human form, the enduring nature of desire, and the inevitable physicality of existence. In this poem, Creeley confronts themes of decay, regret, longing, and the relentless needs of the body with brutal honesty. Using direct, unfiltered language, he presents a portrait of the body that is both visceral and unromantic, emphasizing its transience and the futility of holding onto past loves and experiences.

The poem opens with the evocative lines, "Slope of it, hope of it— / echoes faded," which introduce the concept of the body’s physicality in abstract terms. The "slope" evokes the curves and forms of the human body, perhaps hinting at the beauty and allure that once existed. The word "hope" here suggests a yearning or aspiration—something the body once promised, possibly youth, desire, or vitality. However, this is quickly contrasted with "echoes faded," indicating that whatever vibrancy once existed has long since dissipated. Creeley’s phrasing here evokes a sense of loss, as the echoes of youth and passion fade away into the distance, leaving behind only the shadow of what once was.

The next few lines—"what waited up late inside old desires / saw through the screwed importunities"—speak to the persistence of desire even as time passes. The phrase "waited up late" suggests a lingering presence, perhaps the endurance of longing that outlives its usefulness or relevance. The "old desires" are still there, though they are now "screwed importunities," suggesting that what was once pleasurable has become insistent and bothersome, almost like an obligation. The word "screwed" here could imply frustration, a sense of entanglement, or even the futility of trying to fulfill those desires as the body ages and changes.

Creeley’s bluntness continues with "This regret? Nothing’s left." The directness of the question and answer is impactful, almost as if the speaker is having an internal dialogue about whether there is any point to holding onto regret. The answer—"nothing’s left"—speaks to the inevitability of the body’s decline and the futility of dwelling on what could have been. This stark declaration suggests that the time for regrets has passed, leaving only the present reality of the aging body.

The line "Skin’s old, story’s told— / but still touch, selfed body, / wants other" highlights the contradiction between the body’s physical aging and its unrelenting desire for connection. The skin may be old, and the "story’s told," suggesting that the major events of life have already played out, yet the "selfed body" still yearns for the touch of another. This desire for "other" is a fundamental human need that does not diminish with age, even as the body’s outward appearance loses its youthful appeal. The phrase "selfed body" implies a body that is now more isolated, focused on itself, longing for the connection it once had with others.

The subsequent lines—"another mother to him, her insistent ‘sin’ / he lets in to hold him"—speak to the nurturing aspect of intimacy, with the "mother" being a figure of comfort and safety. The use of "her insistent ‘sin’" suggests the complexity of desire, which can be comforting yet fraught with guilt or taboo. The notion of "sin" implies a moral weight or judgment, yet it is something the speaker "lets in to hold him," indicating a willingness to embrace that complexity for the sake of human connection.

The phrase "Selfish bastard, headless catastrophe" is a sharp, self-critical commentary that reveals a deep-seated frustration or disillusionment with the self. The term "headless catastrophe" suggests a lack of direction or purpose, as if the speaker';s desires and actions have led to nothing but confusion and chaos. The language here is intentionally jarring, capturing the harshness with which the speaker views themselves and their inability to find satisfaction.

Creeley’s depiction of the body becomes more graphic and raw with the lines "Sans tits, cunt, wholly blunt— / fucked it up, roof top, loving cup, / sweatered room, old love’s tune." The bluntness of the language strips away any romanticism, laying bare the physicality of the body without any pretense. The references to past locations and experiences—"roof top, loving cup, / sweatered room"—evoke a sense of nostalgia for intimate moments that are now only memories. These images are connected to the body’s physical experiences, and the phrase "fucked it up" suggests regret or a sense of failure in those past relationships or encounters.

The stark realism continues with "Age dies old, both men and women cold, / hold at last no one, die alone." Here, Creeley reflects on the inevitable conclusion of life: death and solitude. The line "both men and women cold" implies that regardless of gender, the outcome is the same—aging, decline, and eventual death. The phrase "hold at last no one, die alone" captures the ultimate loneliness of death, a fate that awaits everyone, regardless of the connections they once had.

The line "Body lasts forever, pointless conduit, / floods in its fever, so issues others parturient" presents a view of the body as a mere vessel—something that outlasts individual experiences, continuing in its biological function, even as the meaning of those experiences fades. The body is described as a "pointless conduit," emphasizing a sense of futility. Despite its ability to create life ("issues others parturient"), there is a feeling that the body’s function is ultimately devoid of purpose beyond reproduction. The image of "floods in its fever" evokes the idea of the body';s biological urges, which persist despite the loss of emotional or spiritual fulfillment.

The closing lines—"Through legs wide, from common hole site, / aching information’s dumb tide rides to the far side"—continue this visceral imagery, describing birth or the continuation of life in stark, almost clinical terms. The "aching information" suggests a knowledge or awareness carried within the body, but it is described as a "dumb tide," something that moves forward without reason or direction. This imagery reinforces the sense of inevitability and the mechanical, almost indifferent nature of the body’s processes.

"Body" is a brutally honest reflection on the physical realities of the human form, the persistence of desire, and the inevitability of decline. Creeley’s use of blunt, unfiltered language, fragmented imagery, and stark declarations conveys a deep sense of disillusionment with the body as both a source of pleasure and a vessel of suffering. The poem’s exploration of aging, regret, and the relentless drive for connection, even in the face of decay, reveals the tension between the body’s desires and the ultimate solitude of existence. Creeley’s raw portrayal of the body leaves the reader with an unflinching image of the human condition—one that acknowledges both the fleeting beauty of intimacy and the inevitability of loss and isolation.

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