Such foolishness as you in seeming seek
In form from formlessness, hazard’s guest
And confidant in tryst of malformed orthodoxies,
Squander leaves like stars upon the icy world.
Break out of her discontented age as if she says:
“I’m rotten to the core, do not seek me in
The fabricated myths of splendor stretched
Out upon such shores as these where sands
Shift among the darkening tides and spume;
And the cold oblivion of waves shall dash
Your bones in darker days of silence and regret;
And, if you doubt such evidence, or objects
Appearing within the fractured world,
Wait till time recedes upon the salt sea-floor,
And the moon like some despicable queen
Shall turn in darkening hues of carnality;
Drop you as a spider on earth in turbulence,
And find you wanting in the balance of her smile.”
Today you’ve seen the stalking sun,
The faded colors of an invisible daemon;
Her breath retreating now, withdrawing
Into the void where sensual gain is utter loss of mind.
Do you think you can triumph against such violence?
Walk down the open street cursed and despondent?
Seek in the wild things of earth redress for callousness?
Else judge the broken tribe for their cowardice?
Do you hear the mind humming in its defense?
Can you love a woman with your life, hold her
Closer than your breath, look out of her eyes
And know what it means to be a man and alive?
At this late date is it worth pursuing such dark transports?
Will such truant thoughts as are want to disturb
The life bound in a puddle of blood in a little room,
Be found in the unsanctioned codes of love
And honor where the judgments of men
Are bound to such false license of persuasion?
Are you a mortal god to seek such vein conclusions?
Have you walked among the dark fires of origins,
Taken up the laurel in her green-toothed life in May,
And freed the maiden whose very self is poetry?
What right do you have to walk amid these waves,
To call to the sea-wanderers below in their deep caverns;
Seek from the midst of this great sea a voice of wisdom,
To carry you across the indifferent blue of sky and mountain?
Do you have what it takes to do and be, to see and sing
Among the white tombs, raise the voices of the holy dead
In their dark sleep, and invoke the power of their bitterness;
And in this pledge between time and time, discover
In the fragments of this catastrophe of light and motion
A new creation out of the shards of broken mythologies,
A central word: a power and voice, truth and love;
And in the harmony of strife beget an unyielding life?
– Steven Craig Hickman ©2014 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.