Our Moment of Hubris...

Okay, see, so the previous post got me to thinking about poetry. And from there, I got to thinking about my poetry. I don't write much poetry but every now and then the muse taps me on the shoulder, normally just so she can run away giggling while I write some page full of POS drivel. But there are a few I'm not totally unhappy with, and my own favorite is something I wrote all in a rush one time, called My Name Is Craven.

Then I got to thinking about posting it here.

Then I said to myself, "Yo. Joel. You just posted a Kipling poem. Ain't no way you're putting one of your own right above it, like there's some favorable comparison."

Then I answered myself and said, "Hey. It's my blog. Shaddap."

And then I did the deed. Forgive me.

My Name Is Craven
Last night I saw my exile
In a dream, perhaps a vision
Of the mighty weight of hubris
Chained around the necks of children
through the arrogance of masters who
Have welded bonds of words to men from long ago.

In my dream I saw you clearly
I dreamed that you sat crying
In a corner of a dimly lit
And sour smelling garret
You were lost and unprepared to face
The world that you were doomed to from so long ago.

For the absence of your mother
The indifference of your father
Left you weak and undefended
Left you longing and bewildered
You were helpless in your bondage
In a prison built with lies and greed from long ago.

And I should have knelt beside you
Should have found some word to teach you
Should have plumbed some well of wisdom
From my empty years of exile
But I turned away in silence
And repeated my first sin committed long ago.

In my dream I saw you harshly
I dreamed that you stood screaming
In your justice-driven hatred
Of your distant shrouded captors
You were driven to rebellion
But you could not hear their laughter from so long ago.

You rebelled without a purpose
Striking out without direction
Hidden from your eyes the authors
Of your insubstantial prison
They awaited your exhaustion
In the way that they have always done from long ago.

And I should have stood beside you
Should have put my arms around you
Should have found some means to tear away
The scales that kept you blinded
But I crept away in silence
To the shadows where I’d hid myself so long ago.

In my dream I saw you darkly
I dreamed that you knelt weeping
In your weary understanding
Of the hopelessness of protest
And I thought I saw you break, then
As so many men have broken, from so long ago.

You were cleft from your illusions
And the solace of your anger
And your bitter comprehension
Of the dim, confining future
Left you prey to more confusion
In the way that men have drifted, from so long ago.

And I wept to see you losing
All the promise of your manhood
And I burned to stand you up
And show you hope is no illusion
But I feared to harm you further
Or so I told myself, that time so long ago.

In my dream I saw you brightly
I dreamed that you rose grimly
I saw you stand and look upon
The worth of your tormentors
There was death in your regard, then
I feared your death, as other times so long ago.

But you kept to your own council
You sought no guides to lead you
I saw you then surrounded
By a thousand books and weapons
Your dreams were all of blood, then
The blood of those who hounded you, so long ago.

And I should have joined you gladly
Should have added my strength to you
Won a hope for my redemption
Even if I fell in battle
But I slunk away as always
As I do each time from time’s beginning long ago.

In my dream I saw you faintly
I dreamed that you lay dying
In a field strewn with your foemen
And a million burning volumes
Of the edicts and commandments
Written by dark men from days beginning long ago.

In your hand, your blade was dripping
And the very ground was smoking
And the hills still sent the echoes
From the roaring of your battle
There were vultures at the treeline
Gathered to the feast prepared for them from long ago.

And my heart leapt up within me
I fell to my knees beside you
And my shame was an avenger
Rising up before its victim
For I should have been there with you
I have known about this battle from so long ago.

And I wake then from my slumbers
In the darkness of my exile
I am Cain, and I am Judas
I am Moses on the mountain
Weeping out toward the horizon
To the promised land forbidden to me long ago.

I will never rise from darkness
For I seek no greater freedom
And in every life I know the price
But always fear to pay it
And in every land men know my name
And spit upon it from the days of long ago.

For the child becomes the hero
I should always stand beside him
I should never fear the fury
Of the empty men who rule us
But I know my name is Craven
I destroy the dreams of each new age, from long ago.