|
Repudiation
by Jim Benz"We don't really know what reality is made of" - George Oppen
***
There is a hazard,
a chance that the heart
staggers
into poverty, 'the principal of existence.' In season,
the delusory proverbs
destroy themselves, the grand fulfillment
that withers. But when?
Tomorrow? Reversible guilt,
the conviction intoned
like a tongue
so eagerly moistened, vents
like a descant
to the righteous. Coercion
of the mind is the counterpoint,
the pulse
that tranquilizes
nothing. Music,
music of the mortals? The noble
house built of fervor
is a diminutive chorus
of manuscripts and distaste
in which the mind
slips, heedlessly
like dusk
into nightfall, gripping its prelude
with bared teeth. 07/31/2008 Posted on 07/31/2008
Copyright © 2026 Jim Benz
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 07/31/08 at 10:30 PM WOW! I'm not quite sure how to take this one but it does give pause. I believe in "existence" to a point. But we make so much of it. I know it's all we have or think we have but there is this whole "belief" that people get hung up over. |
| Posted by Mary Frances Spencer on 08/01/08 at 05:18 AM I really like this. You make me wonder how the masses can so easily believe the daily drivel we are fed, especially all the fear and negativity. You are inspiring me to write something to respond to this... MFS |
Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 08/01/08 at 05:10 PM
o h
h o w a m a z i n g
f a v e s |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/01/08 at 08:43 PM A very elegant, thought provoking piece. |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 08/07/08 at 01:48 AM this is excellent, i admire your work! |
| 
