Christ, it's time
for a nailing of hands
-- a reach for salvation
by straw men filled
with a growing importance
of self-knowledge
"crucified for art"
we'll mutter, darkly
gathered at the edge,
transcendental robes akimbo
black as vultures
as the tribes wallow
in blood, champions crowed
red, these Davids,
sent forth against imagined giants,
returned pale gutted;
intestines roped out to read
consensual madness, time-forgot
cycled humanity screaming "self'
while clamoring for a safety
of crowds -- all too temporary
in the face of predators
oh, let us crucify
each other quickly
before we find we are the beasts
we fear the most
in this pursuit of selfless art
Comments
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Despite being written in a very different style, it reminded me very much of T.S. Eliot, and my favourite poem by him.
Very interesting subject matter....
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Right On!
I'm with you brother
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hmmm
this is different -
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ahh those gleaming entrails!
Now that we are entering the election season, people are rushing to hang themselves and crucify others for their gain.
It was the roped entrails that always please, however.
That's quite an augury, B.
Oh well I guess you can't blame the messenger.
Assuming it's the correct message, and deliverer
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All the good selling points of christ have sort of been sucked out of the whole religion, and people who wish to manipulate popular opinion, sort of throw around the empty shell like a giant inflated rubber ball. Yaaaay! Yeah, you got christ...
While all the while they suck everything out of the world that's free and ours, pollute it, and sell us the clean stuff cheap...at first anyhow.
Isn't the end result obvious?
We are our own worst enemy. The killers and rapists of the world do much less harm than corporate greed. Look what we do to them. I guess you've really got to kill or steal en masse to get the funds to buy your way out of it.
I disdain of people who have to question whether or not we are animals. And who believe that you can only gain when someone else loses.
Sure that's the hard fast way. It lacks elegance though, and will destroy human kind, and I kind of think we deserve it sometimes. I'd like to see us make it. I know what we could be. If we don't have the balls to face up to and stick up against ourselves...well...the world has ways of taking out the trash.
And the universe has an infinite amount of time for new species and new religions.
Let's be a part of that. Something bigger. -
and we are nothing if not the words of a poet screaming to a generation of fools and human's...one in the same? Some are and some aren't alas I meet far more of one than the other. Brilliant write.
C
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one stone or three?
Holy Bohb nodules! this oozes a Florentine discretion like none other I've ever read. the symbology of its over tone is a reticent manipulation of religion in art and far outside of any box that can be drawn by the self-imposed “righteous”. if matrimony is bliss, then acrimony must certainly be a stenciled form of misogyny.
before we find we are the beasts we fear the most - professionally summarized in a vertical challenge of thought and thoughtlessness. We need more of this bold craft around here and less of the foo-foo dementia of young “pained” whining writers. ~ Ed
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stunning really-
m
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And in the same breath I invoke Adorno's familiar words about Auschwitz.
[reads from Khurbn, the section called Dibbikim, ending on the lines that follow]
. . . . . after auschwitz
there is only poetry no hope
no other language left to heal
no language & no faces
because no faces left no names
no sudden recognitions on the street
only the dead still swarming only khurbn
a dead man in a rabbi's clothes
who squats outside the mortuary house
who guards their privies who is called
master of shit an old alarm clock
hung around his neck who holds
a wreathe of leaves under his nose
from eden "to drive out
"the stinking odor of this world"
[Poetics & Polemics: Essays & Talks 1980-2005 is scheduled for publication next month in the University of Alabama Press's Modern & Contemporary Poetics series.]
http://poemsandpoetics.blogspot.com/
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Thank you...a most interesting read and something I likely would have never seen had you not flagged it for me. Truly...this was a horror to make all art insignificant for a time ...yet, interestingly as a healing medium, once the breath for art is found again.
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There's so much I loved in this work;
transcendental robes akimbo
black as vultures
returned pale gutted
intestines roped out to readwhat fantastic imagery! 'Intestines roped'; gruesome; but so very effective.
while clamoring for a safety
of crowds --great alliteration and meaning. So true.
These were just a couple lines that really stood out for me.
Very fine work.
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i love this piece, it speaks volumes to me
we are the beasts!! oh yes!!
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excellent!!
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cycled humanity always pursuits self
but art can only be selfless while screaming self
and substantives are all names
but what animates a name is the verb of being
in movement
or else you could as well be a stone
aimed to the forehead of the imaginary
you get to rest for a while in the museum of luck
but... art can only be selfless itself
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