315
what a wonderful world it could be
(morning after, 10.11.16)
after Kipling
I didn't think I had it in me
but I wept for you, America
for the world and for myself
I wondered if...
if we'd worked more
if only I'd dreamed harder
forced heart and nerve and sinew
if I'd flossed more
brushed more vigorously
if I had been more patient
focused, firm
if I could pray
and keep my head
if I could've...
forgive us all this hour
and not give way to hating
hold on!
to what (?), one asks
we who having hoped
are now all cast down
watch the things we gave
our lives to broken
taken back
I speak to no one
but myself
it's taken till now
to see it
see truth
having been lied about
what is more precious?
there was a moment
we might have inhabited
I swallow hard on it
bite back
there was a moment of 'we'
now there is a vanishing
I wept for you, America
for the world and for myself
I didn't think I had it in me
it gnaws at me
how has this happened?
the moment – where was it?
historic – this is what it means
later they'll ask
where were you when...?
and where was the moment spent?
turns out we were playing with ourselves
all along
we with our better world thoughts
we with our planet to save
how is it I feel responsible?
how is it I feel guilt?
feel shame?
turns out we'd made it worse
by speaking
there was no contest of ideas
there was no bettering to get
we had no one we could become
should I have never breathed a word?
and I'm not even one of them
how do I even get to care?
I didn't think I had it in me
but I wept for you, America
for the world and for myself
it's all world historic
the Republic comes to an end
in Triumphs
in more circuses than were before
when you're a kid you can look up to evil
Caligula, Nero, Hitler and now
and now I see the past for the pit
we've climbed up from
and where we fall
history
a trap for fools
if
only
if
only I'd done more
if
I could have spoken with crowds
kept
virtue yet
I
must compose myself now
start
again at my beginnings
hold
on!
the world-fuck wave comes over us now
one
planet united in grief
I
have to trust myself again
if
I fix my eyes on a line
clouds
drift through
clouds
drift by
I
steady
the
unforgiving minute
I
fix my eyes
I
fix the line
make
this my art
I
can be the window
perhaps
no one will see through me
perhaps
and
I must wait
there's
still a green world out there
there's
still some air to breathe
and
while I breathe I witness
is
all there's left to me
to
do
the
all-to-do
I
dedicate
this
life to you
there
must be a story
this must be a journey
there
must be democracy under it all
the
every creature worldwide kind
that's
the only way I can make it make sense
it's
the only way to explain
this
is the news
I
tell
Well put - 'the pit of history'. I'm feeling the same...
ReplyDeleteLove the Whitmanesque energy, 'one planet united in grief'?
ReplyDeleteThe sense of not communicating effectively is palpable... An overweening confidence in the power of words?
ReplyDeletenot relly sure what you mean Katherine
ReplyDeletemakes me feel such despair. I need to walk in the garden and concentrate on colours, shapes and perfumed flowers. I don't know...
ReplyDelete