End Of Idea Time
(09-14-09)

From this small town
Near the mouth of this river
Under this volcano
At the edge of this continent
Third planet from this sun
Where
I believe the idea
That it is not revolving around us

I sleepless lie as
Old beards at war
Fearful of the ideas of children and women
Fearful of the private search for faith
Fearful that the subversion of true love
Will somehow take the power away forever
Fight over
Who gets to create the next generation of voiceless women and children

Still most of the people on my own continent
Believe that the world is six thousand years old
And they need not worry about the condition of the world
For it will soon be destroyed by God

Many even of our women still fret that
Women and children with ideas and intellect
Somehow take the power away forever

Discounting blithely the founding documents
Written and signed by mere humans with mere ideas
These tremblers believe fear only goes away
When they can impose their will on others
When true faith can only be public testimony to their God

The wonder of safety
The leisure of ideas
The great risk of love

Is lost in the wink of coercion
In the sideward glance of fear
Our century as in every other
Gives religions permission
To say yes to the mad word music of mad men
To sing seduction songs preying upon the willing fearful

And no more time to talk or write or listen or read or love
Idea time is ending

Too late to find that love is not romance
Hope is not an ideal
Safety is not a fantasy

That the work of ideas
Is the mess of collaboration
The struggle not to loose the ending
Along the way of conflict

But then
We quaking old men and women of idea time
Gathered our courage once more
And chose one man among us
To test

We placed the laurel
Upon his head

In his hands
We placed the broken body
The small shivering broken body

Then we said to our chosen champion and saint
“We will not help you
We will not hear you
We will listen to doom
We will spit upon you and upon each other
We will not work for safety or ideas or for love then
We will blame you for letting the Lazarus child stay dead”

The end
Now we fall

Nietzsche laughs
As our world is destroyed by gods

With the faces of men

POET'S MOUTH

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