tales told from cold fires, a poem

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surfacing from mother-sea, we came ~
we came shape-shifting and sighing,
living before the prescient moon and
under the life-giving sun, we climbed
mountains and marched into valleys,
short-lived, we camped by the riverside
or slept in caves, we cleared wooded
lands and built cities where we grew
domesticated and sophisticated and forgot
our rootedness in the archives of heaven,
our shared destiny with the earth, we
forsook our history and the stars and
invented math, maps and compasses,
governments, borders and ownership,
we built great ships to sail the oceans,
to drum across the sky and away to outer
realms and other planets, we mislaid our
true stories and in loneliness we sucked
in prefabricated values streamed from
cold fires, they magnified our insecurities,
until we confused wants and needs and
hungered for the sake of their greed

“It gets to seem as if way back in the Garden of Eden after the Fall, Adam and Eve had begged the Lord to forgive them and He, in his boundless exasperation had said, “All right, then. Stay. Stay in the Garden. Get civilized. Procreate. Muck it up.” And they did.”  Diane Arbus, Diane Arbus: Monograph

© 2017, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved


The recommended read for this week is Borges’ The Craft of Verse. (One of my faves.) 41-mshkw5pl-_sx331_bo1204203200_These are the famed lost lectures given in English at Harvard University (1967/68) by Jorge Luis Borges that were transcribed (c. 2000) and published in 2002.

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