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jim-kleinhenzPoems
You ask no questions; I provide the answers. Greetings, my friend! We have moved on from Hell. Today I stand in surf up to my knees. Imagine: liquid rock, a steaming sea, the battle of fire with water, land like iron being forged, the earth refreshed. We must make this moment a postcard from infinity. My friend, I need your help. This message, like our hope for life itself, must be left unattributed. It must be left an unresolved antecedent. Think of Empedocles poised at the mouth of that volcano, Etna’s edge. He is about to enter this world’s soul. He is about to die. We are all thrown into the world. Empedocles, the poet philosopher, must hear a voice from far into the future, a voice from today that will insure his resurrection, one to clarify his immortality. Write something in the sand for him to see. 'There was something more, something more divine, more bestial…' Write that. Leave it unsigned. 'For I have been ere now a boy and a girl, a bush and a bird and a dumb fish in the sea.' Write that. Knowledge will come.
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Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 4:52 PM UTC
Postcards, Unsigned: The Last Card
You ask no questions; I provide the answers. Greetings, my friend! We have moved on from Hell. Today I stand in surf up to my knees. Imagine: liquid rock, a steaming sea, the battle of fire with water, land like iron being forged, the earth refreshed. We must make this moment a postcard from infinity. My friend, I need your help. This message, like our hope for life itself, must be left unattributed. It must be left an unresolved antecedent. Think of Empedocles poised at the mouth of that volcano, Etna’s edge. He is about to enter this world’s soul. He is about to die. We are all thrown into the world. Empedocles, the poet philosopher, must hear a voice from far into the future, a voice from today that will insure his resurrection, one to clarify his immortality. Write something in the sand for him to see. 'There was something more, something more divine, more bestial…' Write that. Leave it unsigned. 'For I have been ere now a boy and a girl, a bush and a bird and a dumb fish in the sea.' Write that. Knowledge will come.
©Jim Kleinhenz
Written by
jim-kleinhenz
American
Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 4:52 PM UTC
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