October 30, 2012

poem 409 of a poem a day for 2012

venerable dried figs
( I am not a capitalist, I am not a communist, I am a humanist )

we would rather
mine asteroids
for the precious metals
and resources
we can gather
with claimant flags
and hoard
aboard the danger
of rocket ships
than mine
every energy field
the Earth is rung with

these harmonic resonances
impart us the keys
to unlocking
our genomic divinity
so while we must entertain time
we must also wrest
the questions back to thrive
back past survival
to the forefront
of our bowsprit humanity
while stealing
every Prometheus we can
from a seduction in chains

for the mountain
only gets lonelier
when we no longer climb
past its cold embrace of sky
it is too easy
to turn ourselves off
from nature's grid
too easy
to tune out
each other
and it is all
too easy to drop ourselves
into semi-permanent
inanimate states
of consumptive unconscious

there is no balance
in capitalism
there is only
the illusion of equilibrium
and as material distribution
becomes more acutely
tied to social issues
along the barrel sights of guns
spiritual distribution
is considered mass hallucination
unless of course
it can be used
to mollify
for greater purpose
a plebeian servile courtship
of dreams that keep us
propping up the Earth
after Atlas shrugs
dreams that we too
may taste gold,
glory and all the stories
we may have inspired
so generation
after generation
still tell of how lotteries
are won and lost
long after we're dead


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