An Account Of Despair, With A Prophecy Poem by Daniel Brick

An Account Of Despair, With A Prophecy

Rating: 5.0


Do not think for a moment that I abandoned
quotidian reality because of despair...
No, despair is not my answer, and never will be -
but despair has haunted me, tripped me when I was
distracted by happiness, even invaded my psyche
where my poetry resides fully empowered and
attentive to the Muses' flights. And despair
plays no role in my drama, not even an antagonistic
role, like Iago's conniving charm, or Macbeth's
valiant fury, or Edmund's anger at the world's
relentless circling of haphazard fortunes.
This tragic knowledge is my defense against
the subtle, spidery slants of despairing moods.

Have you seen a human being after despair has webbed
their destiny and cinched its victory over their
future? Brace yourself: this is graphic: their sex
shrivels to a wrinkle of flesh, their brain dissolves
and its sap seeps out of facial orifices, the beautiful
proportions of torso and limbs are twisted, and finally
the afflicted one is stunned, incapable of sound or
sense, unable to participate in tea party talk, the strategy
of playing chess, or a day of indulgence on the water,
with friends whose images are now trapped in mental repose,
in the caverns of a once free and supple mind...

You are witnessing the flaws of our initial creation,
amplified by generations of inner conflicts,
with psychic forces in disarray, when the center
is weakened by despair and spins a circle
of futility. From an Olympian distance, we sense
a ruin within. How can we rebuild what has crumbled?
How can we restore the circular motion of energy spent
and energy recovered? Or must we retire to the still
center and join the blank-eyed ones whose despair
numbs them to crisis and solution?

Some among us are already pursuing a familiar solution:
they are summoning the gods and goddesses to return,
take up residence on mountains and in the harbors
of outer space and exert their powers in tandem
to restart the ancient machinery of the universe.
It can happen once again, but do we want to surrender
our spiritual autonomy to these fractious, limited
deities? They will force us to stop our self-directed
evolution to Human Divinity. They will impose their limits
on our cosmic destinies. We may all find ourselves wrestling
with despair, if we abandon our future majesty for a present
security...

There is a prophet in the seventh sphere, a fully human
seer who has bent the knowledge of the cosmos
into a human grasp of vast material powers that rival
the primeval deities whom we are summoning to stifle
our endeavors. We are facing terrible losses,
unmitigated suffering, we will become the new Prometheus,
oppressed like another Sisyphus, wearied like Odysseus
from long toil. We will bear new wounds for for every
scrap of power we gain. We will rejoice in victories
that those surrendering to despair will proclaim
defeats. We will be a ragged bunch of warriors,
nursing our wounds even as we acquire deeper ones.
Once we saw Life as a Pageant and we were exultant,
we spent many decades building in unity, tearing
down in disunity, rebuilding with a new faith
in our species as one nation. We achieved
a Unity of Purpose that was squandered, and when we fell
in disgrace, we knew we were our own enemies. But
the prophet of the seventh sphere summons us
to PRIDE. Pride is gratitude to self for genuine
achievement. Let us declare ourselves a prideful
people, and live our lives in a Pageant of Glory,
and grasp a Greatness of Being for all who strive
to achieve the Divinity of the Human Race.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Glen Kappy 05 April 2018

Whoa! A lot here, friend. First, I acknowledge and affirm the important warning against despair here. Next, as a way of briefly commenting on the so-much here, I’m reminded with your phrase the ancient machinery of the universe of the opening to Ginsberg’s Howl (I think one of the greatest poem openings ever) . This one of yours, Daniel, explores, it seems to me, much the same territory but in a blessedly briefer poem. -Glen

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Kelly Kurt 04 April 2018

Your talents have only grown since last I read you.

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