LAMENTATIONS

by David Eide

There will be a time when his restlessness will appear foolish to him; The poet can only perceive it through the gestures and the moments of other people who he moves through; strangers. That is for the future when he is a clown and a sad-eyed creature.

For the moment he is the explorer or, at least, exchanging information with the secret energies of existence.

Life, a bitter sauce, yet it will show itself to be this thing that is dreamt of. There lies the pessimist of the poet. He drops down into the corridor unannounced and unexpectedly. It is for a moment a world of darkness; and a wonderful darkness for a time for the heated atmosphere of the light of the day, but soon the atmosphere stales and passes its imperative into the open wound of the poet. The wound is open because the poet now, despite himself, receives the energies that are driven underground by the mad and insensate culture, that must learn how to transfer those energies in order to learn the limits and possibilities of his art.

The goal is not in the corridor, but in the sky that opens to the other side of space.

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