The Sage Remarks Upon the Poverty of the Age

it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
It is a sad world
Where the mighty are not stayed
But by their smallness;
Xerxes found them under his thumb
Though he is dead and gone
He would perhaps pay for his crimes
And be celebrated in his victories
But such men; will there stone
In which to carve their likeness?
Will metal be impressed
Or is there not enough depth
To make for them an idol?
Ozymandias perhaps,
We might believe in his time
Did indeed give the mighty pause
And what of the truly great
Will the giants we stood upon
Even notice when the wind blows
And sentences us to oblivion?
Who will remember our flood
Of mediocrity and waste
Will Shakespeare or Elizabeth
Will Alexander or Antony?
Will we be lauded, then
For the parade of fools
Naked, with whom we made circus
Whom we found fit to lead
Only to realize our error
And repeat it as long
As there was gold and iron and oil?
All we are, our souls and houses
Are kipple; the greatest the most
Of wasted paper and aluminum
And silver oxide and ink
For whom no museum or temple
Will hold vigil and consider
For whom is reserved not
But the humming saw
And the whistling jackhammer.


  1. Reminds me of:


    1. an interesting poem and musical interpretation. The fear of God is, as they say, the *beginning* of Wisdom...


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