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In the MAZE or the EXISTENTIAL THREAT * In the MAZE or the EXISTENTIAL THREAT *
by David Sparenberg
2020-09-06 09:34:06
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1.

We have lost our minds
And with our minds we have lost our eyes
And with our eyes we have lost our ears
And with our ears we have lost our tongues
And with our tongues we have lost our souls
And with our souls of course our hearts
And with our hearts we have lost our spines

And with our spines we have lost our wills.

There, before us, is that not a forest of charred and jagged trees?
No. It is a fence of barbed iron. It is a wall of broken glass.
A chorus of the dead.

A bit ahead, there, is that not our frozen Megapolis?
No! No! It is a flaming pool of blood and oil. And the fire
Will continue to burn even when the last arsonist
Is rendered smoke and ashes.

Why then should we go on?
Why should we not sit here, devoid of dreams and memory?
Why not sink into this muck, this plastic morass, that once was Earth?

dav001_400_022.

Only by the glory of the light
only by the glory of the light can I go on
fumbling passage
through the long ordeal
surviving in the underworld

all that remains to hold onto
to believe… only
eventually light will cascade (it will
will it not?) into the labyrinth
light! glorious light at the end
at the end of the tunnel where the tunnel
turns into light where
the maze is ablaze with sheer radiance
of salvation

i might go on here down here
in the underworld amid ruins that
were once bread
without a dream a hundred lifetimes
what is left now
for a nightmare is what remains
deep in the underworld
without a dream what remains
the day is not day
it is night – night the sufferance
the waiting… we

hide… we hide (i hide you hide
everyone) from ourselves
from the others and our otherness
from that shadow that we cast
we hide… hiding in the shadow from
the shadow we cast from
what is and what has come upon us
what has come to pass

3.

We have lost our
Minds

And with our minds we have lost our
Eyes
And with our eyes we have lost our
Ears
And with our ears we have lost our
Tongues
And with our tongues we have lost our
Souls
And with our souls of course
Our hearts
And with our hearts we have lost our
Spines
And with our spines (human vertebrae) we have lost our
Wills.

4.

If i would say a word—freedom
the word would bleed from my mouth by
becoming word
the blood of freedom is transformed - it is changed!
while exiting the lips and nostrils blood
becomes water and
we are intoxicated (i am you are every one of us) by
what is the least substantial a
paper thin eucharist the
viscid residue of trivia… trivia
tri-vi-a… a

o hall of mirrors
the labyrinth of broken mirrors
o hall of shards
the hall of complicity
intimidation and complicity o…

church of clapping
hands
church of big promises
church of gains
church of losses
church of conspirators
church of rumor
o
church of redemption
rapture
redemption o

church of broadcasts
church of big screens
food to be given
food to be withheld
pray with us
for relocation
… If

if i would (if i could) utter
a word - Love (love for you for myself for life - for the Earth)
the word would be blood
spilling from my heart
dry blood without flow spilling
without flow without breath
of no pulsation
no motion no percussion but
an old color (witness of dry blood) caked and darkened
crusting my heart

in the end when the last choice
has been chosen those who
remain who survive of our species will
burst expelled forceful-forth in
methane bubbles
discharged from the underworld from
dirges of dregs sheer
from exhaustion
hollow
insensate
into the oblivion of silence
into the
hemorrhage of silence
…silence…

5.

There, before us, is that not a forest of charred and jagged trees?
No. It is a chorus of the dead.
A fence of barbed iron. A wall of broken glass.

A bit ahead, there, is that not our frozen Megapolis?
No! No! It is a flaming pool of blood and oil. The fire
Will continue to burn even when the last arsonist
Is rendered smoke and ashes. Incinerated. Afterward
Dead
Are the dead and gone. Dead and gone.

Why then should we go on?
Why should we not sit here, devoid
Of dreams and memory?
Why not sink into this muck that once was Earth?
Into this plastic morass cadavers
Of beasts ambient and adolescent toys – harvest – (t)ed…
The tears of toys.

Why?

* This is not a spiritual poem, unless we admit the struggle for awakening, clarity, and alternative life as also spiritual—as integral to the process of becoming free from controlling fear and hopelessness. The condition of the poem is not completely alien to me. I attempt to enter a condition that for many is existential, entangled as they are in the limitations and suffering of angst and despair. What needs attention and work is to engage and protect against the contagion of anguish and despair. Ignorance, anguish, and despair—holes where there could be eyes, holes where there could be ears, a hollowness where they could be passion, a vacancy of the exiled soul.

**********************************

Check David Sparenberg's NEW BOOK
The Fate Of The Poets - Selected poems 1974-2019
is online now and you can download for FREE HERE!

life_110_400

**********************************

Also Check David Sparenberg's THE GREEN TROUBADOUR
A Source Book of Performance Ecosophy
download for FREE HERE!

life_30_400

 ******************************************************

David Sparenberg has also 2 more Books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"Life in the Age of Extinctions volume 2 – Threshold"
Download for FREE HERE!

life_03_400

 

 


    
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