Thursday, January 9, 2014
We Know How Much A Man Contains*
Seeds and miracles
A mechanical spirit
The Father, The Mother,
Sons of steel, Daughters of the revolution
The will to pause
At dawn, in the mist, or ruins
to toast, sing, genuflect
Pity like some thing in the street
Pride like some thing in the mirror
A stick to carry remorse, regret
Virgin wool pristine with the memory of youth
Old rags sour with age
Layers of knowledge, upon knowledge, upon knowledge
-mortar between bricks laid in endless echoing vaults
And in these recesses, where nothing can touch, light, or hold sway,
Can we know how much a man contains?
*The title is taken from The Hemorrhage by Stanley Kunitz
This is the latest version of a list poem I have reworked many times over.
The Bar is open!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
That is surely a question which should provoke, when you ask how much a man *contains*! *smile*
ReplyDeleteAnd in these recesses, where nothing can touch, light, or hold sway,
ReplyDeleteCan we know how much a man contains?
The end is classic! Given the scenario one gets to answer in a variety of ways. This is expected as man is gregarious. Wonderful write Ronald!
Hank
You have worked a lot of philosophy into this poem, Ronald. This has the ring of classic poetry with a thought-provoking question at the end!
ReplyDeleteIt is really fascinating how seemingly unrelated and abstract ideas can come together and form such and interesting piece. I had looked at this idea of a list poem when it was first shared, but could't quite figure out how it would all come together and make any sense. You should be commended, this touches on a little bit of everything that we are, and it really came together well.
ReplyDelete