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The Chant of History


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The Chant of History

 

a list of deaths

neat with blank lines

the Dead hum and chant

negation negation negation

 

We see everything through memory

even in the red red rage sparks of past

infect how to hurt how to judge how we

fight- abuse begets abuse- the past generates

more memory- a lens that changes how and what

is seen- the habit of wearing glasses forgetting

to clean them until a period a baby spider

a mote become the same thing creating

confused syntax and grammar a hole

in the ground of everything

We leap in We leap out

To negate is to know

they whisper

 

inviting us

deeper and deeper

spirits and this moment

dance for the love

of it all noting

just so-and so-

this-- and--

nothing---

else----

------

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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What if all recorded history were to circle down the memory hole?

 

We see everything through memory

even in the red red rage sparks of past

infect how to hurt how to judge how we

fight- abuse begets abuse- the past generates

more memory- a lens that changes how and what

is seen- the habit of wearing glasses forgetting

to clean them ...

Difficult (perhaps impossible) to erase, there would still be genetic memory! Eugenicists can only try to dilute it.

 

Enjoyed it, Juris. The poem even looks like a double helix.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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goldenlangur

Hi DC,

 

The burden of history is heavy and perhaps memories of it, no less. If only one could to climb out of this mire of anger, reprisal and more anger, then perhaps, we could begin anew. This is the sense I got from your poem.

 

These lines are wonderfully evocative and striking:

 

.

.. the habit of wearing glasses forgetting

to clean them until a period a baby spider

a mote become the same thing creating

confused syntax and grammar...

 

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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