LAMENTATIONS

by David Eide

For fear that the crowds will carry the truth to the edge or wild mountains, the poet inculcates the wisdom of the past centuries that reveal the eternal secrets in a moment of time. Fantastic leaps are made from the containment of the time to run the circumference a mile above the polar regions of the earth.

The crowds, they laugh together . Our burdens are they not simply energy not yet transformed?

As the truth dissolves under the feet of the crowd the poet sees the crowd split apart and head in many directions. It saddens him They go to live without the truth?

They begin to taunt him in his steadfastness so he moves quickly to avoid being injured.

He writes in his journal, "Take care of the killers. They do not come at you with their knives but with their perceptions of the world."

The poets nightmare shows his words dying in the vaults of modern babble that drowns out eternity . Eternity! They who no longer believe in eternity rule the world and grind the poets power through the festival of the grotesque beast.

The poet, a mean man, says, "Let them all vanish into the hell they create for themselves- this humanity no longer interests me."

His discovery that the muse and humanity are one sinks into sadness and he realizes that, in a profound, unalterable sense, he is beaten, he will understand the depths at which the beating takes place and convert all negatives into positives, all positives not negatives.

He is as restless as the invisible forces science casually sketches out. He wants to find the order in heath, the perfect symmetry that brings his energy in from the cold.

Simultaneous with his thoughts on subjects. Language! Language turns to bear down on the light in thoughts that shape the feeling of the subject. A paradise created from the hum-drum of the daily round. The circumference of language shrivels to a few elements and drives people violent and mad. Do not feel like an idiot for taking on such a question poet!

Waves and streams of the people’s pursuits arise from the cold to remind the poet that he lives in this era and mot the previous one. What element changes and what element is a constant?

Is there not something sad about the highest integrity and talent reduced and made to submit to the values of the ignorant the repressed, the superstitious?

Knowledge that transcends mutated wounds!

It is a chant-prayer for the poet with occulting intensity . He has climbed the staff that leads to the upper atmosphere and has viewed the earth as a stupendous invention of perception suspended in a state of nothingness, attempting to decide its fate for the next billion years.