Published by The Puddin’head Press
Perfect Bound, 107 pages
8.5 x 5.5 inches, 1990
ISBN# 0-9615879-1-1
$10.00
Praise for Prophecies
Lawrence Tyler was born on the west side of Chicago and has lived in and around the city all his life. He is a Loyola graduate and a veteran of the Army. ‘Poetry chose me,’ he says, ‘at about age sixteen; I chose poetry ’round twenty. No complaints.
Prophecies is a poetic epic in three movements, conveyed through the voice of the hero (or is it anti-hero? I’m not sure):
‘History 308: The America’ introduces you to a famous physicist pursuing a more perfect mind, seeking happiness, as a future without hope bears down upon him. In death, he dreams of meeting the future and no one’s there waiting for him…
The second part finds the scientist revived 400 years later, thawed out into a world run by artists and scientists, a paradise where space travel is common and mind to mind communication is standard. It’s the future he hoped for, but he’s suspicious of it and especially doesn’t like sharing his thoughts. He tells everyone his name is Kilroy, he becomes a historical artifact in exchange for pilot training to fly to the stars. He ends up in a lawless port called Midway where he discovers he has a talent for empathic assassination due to the emptiness of his soul. He begins killing assassins and an empathic master is dispatched to try to curb his activity, to help him confront the anger, the old comfortable hole eating away at him, but it’s too much a part of him. He confounds the master, escapes, and pilots his ship into oblivion.
In ‘Prophecies: A dialogue with God’, I heard what was almost a lover’s lament to God, who never answers until now. This section turned a bit strange – verbal cat and mouse sessions with himself, with a woman who smiles at him, with God, becoming, I think, either a third chance at life with a mission to find God in the faces of humanity, or the scientist waking up from a wild dream. I liked the uncertainty of this ending; does Kilroy find heaven, or heaven in a woman’s smile… And has he learned anything?
Epic poems are very difficult to write well; this is a great first effort from Mr. Tyler.
Larry Winfield, City Table Review, 2000
About Lawrence Tyler
Chicago poet Lawrence Tyler died Saturday, May 1st, 2004. He had been undergoing chemotherapy for many months. Lawrence worked very closely with the Puddin’head Press. He was always there when we needed help. Many people remember him from book sales they attended or from the old Puddin’head Bookstore on Milwaukee Avenue during the early ’90’s. Lawrence ran poetry readings at many different locations including Puddin’head Bookstore, Gossip Cafe, and some open mike co-hosting at the Westside Poetry Slam. At the time of his death, he was working on a book called Melancholy Wonder that we will be publishing in the future. Lawrence has written a wide variety of poetry, screenplays, and essays and we hope to keep his memory alive on this page.
He was one of the finest men I have known.
One of Lawrence’s final poems was called “EULOGY”
Eulogy
The truth has always been very important
to me
I don’t know what I should
tell you
I have had prayers answered
and you
Can read between the lines
When you don’t believe in God, lost
your faith
And a prayer is answered
you must
Consider your point of view
re-think old thoughts
I am very curious about life
after death
I believe there is something, perhaps not
exactly
What we have been taught,
who knows?
I will not put God into
a box
When you know you are no longer
going to live forever
Psychologically speaking, emotions
you know
I mean, there are people who
two second before death
Think they will beat it
so
When you let go of that delusion
what next?
If I let myself become distracted
the earth, the sun
All so beautiful
tears
I try to discern what is on my
friend’s mind
It takes a lot of concentration,
and I have a lot
I miss my friends already, and
I feel sad for them
When I die, they will feel
pain
My life is over, and
beginning
I know I am going to miss out
not be here
For how things turn out
and no one believes that —
Precisely, this is the matter
We can’t believe we won’t know
how it all turns out.
Contents
Prophecies consists of three long poems:
History 308: The America
Kilroy Was Here
Prophecies: A Dialogue With God
About the Author
Excerpt
Excerpt from “Kilroy Was Here”
When I died, frozen
I don’t know
How it happened.
Four hundred years
Later, unfrozen
I am alive
Though dead to you
And your world.
I guess it’s something
Of an art form
Reviving the frozen
Dead.
They go to so much
Trouble, speaking
The old language
Making the transition
As easy as possible.
These artists, scientists
Seemed puzzled
At the time
Why wasn’t I grateful
Just to be alive
They didn’t know my name
Who I was
And it took a couple weeks
Before I could
Really communicate,
By that time I was suspicious
So I told them
I was Kilroy
It was a whim
From my past
And I was beyond caring
What anyone thought
Four hundred years dead
And now alive
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