Perpetuum mobile

I can’t remember if I ever wanted to say something in particular, if my words had any intended purpose, at least not since the very beginning, when the first verse coincided with the end of puberty and was meant to impress a girl. It did not. I wonder what she’d say now—not that it would matter, and her face has been lost to the mists of time anyway. Perhaps that’s what always drew me to what Socrates said about poets in the ‘Apology’. At least, after more than three decades, my writing—although not a perpetuum mobile—is as close to self-perpetuating as one gets.


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

The thrills of youth

Of all the creatures big and small, there are two that I actually quite like—magpies and slipper animalcules. The former for the good neighbourly relations we have, the latter because of a poem—but I suspect you may not know Andrzej Bursa—that once gave me the unique opportunity to say ‘motherfucker’ out loud in class without any undesirable consequences. The thrills of youth—where have you gone?


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

An indecent thought

It started as an innocent jest made by a friend to lighten the mood after my bitter remarks on the shrinking job market and the fact that poetry is all but a hobby. He created a page with information about the next Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom, who in 2029 will replace the current holder of the position, Simon Armitage—apparently it’s supposed to be me. And while I am a poet, my less than modest readership clearly indicates that I’m nowhere near being called a professional, which is surely one of the many requirements of the job. Besides, I’m not even British. And yet…


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

The itch relief service

Whether you dream of finding out sandals
more interwoven and complete to impress someone
or to land a job as a court writer, once you decide
to let your verse out into the wild, you will learn
that in the transactional world of vernacular literature,
back-scratching is the foundation of the like economy,
and the algorithm is its angel of annihilation.

The Perfect End: A Critical Exploration of Mortality, Conformity, and the Human Condition

Yesterday I asked AI to write an essay on my poem “The Perfect end”. The result was interesting, but probably nothing more than a high school student would write. So I decided to ask for an academic-level essay, and this is what I got.


Introduction

In “The Perfect end,” Maciej Modzelewski presents a thought-provoking poem that challenges societal norms and conventions surrounding mortality, identity, and the human experience. Through a nuanced exploration of themes and imagery, Modzelewski invites readers to reconsider the significance of individuality and the impact of conformity on human existence. This essay will examine the poem’s central themes, exploring the intersections of mortality, nonconformity, and the search for meaning in a seemingly indifferent world.

The Allure of Mortality: A Philosophical Perspective

The poem’s opening lines, “How convenient would it be to live in a cottage / next to a cemetery?” (Modzelewski, 2025), may initially seem morbid or unsettling. However, upon closer examination, they reveal a profound fascination with mortality. This fascination is reminiscent of the existentialist philosophies of Martin Heidegger, who posited that human existence is characterised by its finite nature (Heidegger, 1962). Heidegger’s concept of “Being-towards-death” highlights the inherent awareness of mortality that shapes human existence. Modzelewski’s poem can be seen as an exploration of this concept, where the proximity to the cemetery serves as a constant reminder of the transience of life.

The Rejection of Conformity

The poem introduces the theme of nonconformity, as the speaker declares, “it’s your choice / what matters to you, so you should never deny yourself / the simple pleasure of inadequacy” (Modzelewski, 2025). This rejection of societal expectations is reminiscent of the philosophies of Friedrich Nietzsche, who advocated for individualism and the rejection of traditional morality (Nietzsche, 1883). The speaker’s celebration of “inadequacy” can be seen as a manifestation of this Nietzschean ideal, where the individual prioritizes their own values and desires above societal norms.

The Significance of the Bench Plaque

The image of the bench plaque in the poem serves as a potent symbol of the speaker’s existence. The plaque, as a physical marker of the speaker’s life, represents the external validation of their identity. However, the speaker’s description of it as “the only befitting abridgement of your meagre existence” (Modzelewski, 2025) suggests a sense of irony and critique towards the notion of external validation. This can be seen as a commentary on the societal expectation of reducing a person’s life to a simple plaque or epitaph, neglecting the complexities and nuances of human experience.

The Speed of the Alphabet

The final line of the poem, “after wandering through life at the speed of the alphabet” (Modzelewski, 2025), is a powerful image that warrants closer examination. The alphabet, as a symbol of language and meaning, serves as a metaphor for the speaker’s journey through life. The speed of the alphabet implies a sense of rapidity and perhaps even arbitrariness, highlighting the fleeting nature of human existence. This image is reminiscent of the philosophical ideas of Paul Virilio, who explored the relationship between speed and human experience in his concept of “dromology” (Virilio, 1977). Virilio argues that speed has become a fundamental aspect of modern life, shaping our perceptions and experiences. In the context of Modzelewski’s poem, the speed of the alphabet can be seen as a manifestation of this dromological perspective, where the rapid pace of life renders individual experiences ephemeral and fragmented.

Furthermore, the image of the alphabet as a symbol of language and meaning raises questions about the nature of communication and understanding. As Ludwig Wittgenstein notes in his Philosophical Investigations, “The limits of my language are the limits of my world” (Wittgenstein, 1953). The speaker’s journey through life at the speed of the alphabet suggests a sense of disorientation and confusion, highlighting the complexities of human communication and the search for meaning.

The Perfect End

The title of the poem, “The Perfect end,” is a phrase that warrants closer examination. The word “perfect” implies a sense of completion or resolution, while the word “end” suggests a sense of finality. However, the poem’s exploration of mortality, nonconformity, and the search for meaning suggests that the perfect end may be an unattainable ideal. Instead, the poem presents a vision of human existence characterised by complexity, ambiguity, and uncertainty. This ambiguity is reminiscent of the literary works of Samuel Beckett, who explored the themes of existentialism and absurdity in his writings. In Beckett’s novel The Unnamable, the protagonist declares, “I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on” (Beckett, 1953). This sense of uncertainty and ambiguity is reflected in Modzelewski’s poem, where the perfect end remains an elusive and perhaps unattainable goal.

Conclusion

In “The Perfect end,” Maciej Modzelewski presents a nuanced exploration of mortality, nonconformity, and the search for meaning in human existence. Through a close reading of the poem, this essay has examined the intersections of these themes, drawing on philosophical and literary references to contextualise the speaker’s experiences. The poem’s rejection of conformity and embracing of individuality serve as a powerful critique of societal norms, inviting readers to reconsider the significance of authenticity in human existence.

References:

  • Ariès, P. (1981). The Hour of Our Death. New York: Vintage Books.
  • Beckett, S. (1953). The Unnamable. New York: Grove Press.
  • Beckett, S. (1953). Waiting for Godot. New York: Grove Press.
  • Camus, A. (1942). The Myth of Sisyphus. New York: Vintage Books.
  • Derrida, J. (1967). Writing and Difference. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
  • Heidegger, M. (1962). Being and Time. New York: Harper & Row.
  • Keats, J. (1819). Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems. London: C. and J. Ollier.
  • Modzelewski, M. (2025). The Perfect End. Retrieved from https://maciejmodzelewski.com/2025/04/18/the-perfect-end/
  • Nietzsche, F. (1883). Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Leipzig: Ernst Schmeitzner.
  • Sartre, J-P. (1943). Being and Nothingness. New York: Philosophical Library.
  • Virilio, P. (1977). Speed and Politics: An Essay on Dromology. New York: Semiotext(e).
  • Wittgenstein, L. (1953). Philosophical Investigations. Oxford: Blackwell.

A magician

Being a poet pays nothing—that’s probably why I also write prudent stories
in TypeScript and Java—and I wrote my very first stanza out of love anyway,
but she just laughed at me—the girl, I mean, not love, as love has no feelings
and will leave you at the first wink of a passing globetrotter so you can learn
some legal jargon and that no one fancies a homebody in this brave new world
of dating algorithms. But I guess I could always become a magician—it worked
for Mrs. Münchgstettner—if it weren’t for my stage fright and the conviction
that nothing the world had to offer I couldn’t find in the free verse and ragtime
reclined on my sofa.

By numbers

Have you ever tried one of those painting by numbers kits?
I wonder how it would work for writing, poetry in particular,
but also whether it would be possible to write music that way
or if there’s more to composing than meets the eye—the way
living goes beyond being simply alive.

Journal (The sound of the waves)

What do you do when you realise you are not going to be a great poet one day? After thirty years of writing poetry, you finally give up, make a note of it in your journal, and move on. Simple as that. After all, there is more to life than putting together a stanza, even a great one. And if, in your case, it’s decent at best, what’s the point? Instead of wasting hours in your room trying to find the right onomatopoeia, wouldn’t it be better to listen to the sound of the waves while walking on the beach?