Lacking substance of truth we find
the Hollow man
looking out his window of delusion
laughing at the substantial lies
of modern reality. . .
he sees
the many stars and dreams that elude
humanity
that are beyond our grasp yet inches
from our hearts
He is
a man among men or a child among children
yet
no one pays him heed supersonic speeding
past him
on a highway to nirvana that doesn’t exist
that
we couldn’t even create save thru the
values
we deflated at dawn; cut loose at dusk
No we
do not see the same as he in his colored
speckles of diamond shape visions
we are not
nearly rich enough in soul to even
approach the grandeur of his heartfelt ways
No we
do not have the warmth of heart
spiritual emotional triumph of compassion—
do we?
Perhaps, perhaps it is our lack of dreams
that descends us to the marching sounds
of our times
just rambling by us as our cool, dreamless eyes
just stare at the sky without seeing the blue
but perhaps
it merely takes a satori for us to be
awakened
to the glory to the potential of fulfilled
promise
and triumph over the darkness of pestilence
and cynicism
12-4-88
To me, this poem reads more
To me, this poem reads more true than The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot. And I spent three years in a deep study of his poetry; but you describe the process of being a Hollow Man in terms far more poignant, and far more direct, than he used. And, though he was great, and won the Nobel Prize, he avoided controversial subjects (except for his faith); and, in my opinion, avoidance is not really a fit subject for poetry. Anyhow, what I am attempting to say---is this is an excelent poem! Very, very excellent.
Starward
I am humbled by your kind
I am humbled by your kind words
Pestilence
.
A word appropriate at many conditional crossroads of 2021. Pestilence: I have not heard Covid called that. It is. I do look at he sky hoping for blue and when it is there the looking up was worthwhile. ~S~
I can overcome the pestilence
I can overcome the pestilence but I find myself clinging to cynicism