Toward imaginary midnight
Eleven Fifty-Five
They moved the clock today,
the terrible hands of metaphor
inching toward imaginary
midnight when the world
will not go dark, but instead
flash candling in critical mass
and everyone witness unto the end
of their eyes, enlightenment blooming
like hooped skirts of muscaria, smoke
suffusing the flameborne horizon
as blessed matter descends
like cold wisdom in heavy water.
They moved the clock today. Forward,
with five minutes remaining until
the last question ascends
perfectly unanswered.
Joseph Gallo
January 17, 2007
post-time 6:27 PM
6 Comments:
Good grief, what a poem!
I love "enlightenment blooming like hooped skirts of muscaria."
Really, though, ALL of it.
billie
One might wonder if the use of such crafted descriptions might instead lessen the impact of the lethal subject matter, unwittingly beautifying it. I don't know.
I trust that in your liking of the poem you are as equally outraged about the global circumstances that have inched us closer toward oblivion. This is what I've tried to express. It feels like far too little. Perhaps because it is.
Thank you for your comment, nonetheless, Billie, for saying so.
I don't know - I tend less and less to get outraged about anything. To some degree I have come to believe that most of the reason we are "here" is to experience what we create.
Both in the daily sense and the bigger sense.
There is, for me, something quite beautiful about the idea of oblivion. So I don't find your descriptions discordant in any way.
Anyway. :)
billie
Well, I certainly hope we don't have to experience engineered oblivion. Beautiful oblivion in the natural world such as supernovae and asteroid collisions are one thing, but the willful creation and deployment of such abominable weapons as would create this kind of experience is something else entirely. I cannot help but be outraged at the depths of such an impending and dark enterprise. But I fully understand your point and I appreciate the dialogue.
Think astrally, act globally. ;-)
I am in the mode of thinking in the moment and acting astrally, or at least that's what it feels like... :)
I don't like the destruction either.
I'm glad you're writing and sharing - I think it has effect.
billie
Let's hold hands on this blue merry-go-round and try not to fly off as it spins and wobbles through the infinitude of both the cosmos and the incalculable void that exists within the nefarious regions of the human mind. ;-)
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