VERSE OF THE REPEATING CIRCUMSTANCE
‘Of old there were folk tales,
now dull conspiracy babble,
Of old was Aristotle’s church,
now Friedman’s market scrabble,
Of old there was a peasantry,
now the ‘entrepreneurial’-serf
And the free-thinkers and truth-seekers
prattle still on manorial turf’
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THE DESOLATION
‘In the northern darkness on a desolate shore, a dying old man slipped into dream. The spirit of the sea rose and in whispers questioned him-
“Why are you left here alone to die on these despairing sands? where are your children, your women and kinsfolk gone”
In dream, he answered-answered-
“the rocks came alive and devoured the women, the pirates from the south stole the children away, the men slew each other in grief. That is all”
The sea replied -“nothing wholly false, nothing wholly true-
Long have I watched and know well the truth of your people’s dearth. Your fields were exhausted- rocks, alone remaining: and so your women were suffered to die. Your children were taken indeed: but in truth, it was you that sold them. Your kinsmen hacked each other down: but in the rage of unsatisfied greed, not grief.
Greed was the vice that turned your fields to stone, greed sold your children, greed slew your kin. Greed had your devotion. Grief is your reward. I will bear your fateful tale in my waters to centuries hence.
Sleep now, for verily is Death greedier than thee”
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THE NIGHT SEA
‘I saw in my dream a darkened shoreline. Faint stars and few above, seeming weary in their light. I saw bones and black pits about me. I heard and felt a chill wind, soughing.
An old man stumbled down from the grey dunes; ashen faced, aged, and mourning pitiably. I asked him why he wept so.
He answered-
“ my sons are gone, I cannot find them. They were all I had, my pride and joy. One left many years ago, taking half of his inheritance. He never returned, and I was grieved. The other son burned in anger at his brother’s apathy. He left me too, went off to find and punish his wayward kin. Both are lost to me now. Both my sons gone! Where can I find them? I search the whole world. Though all the world is now dead, still I search for my sons”
I took the old father by the hand and led him down to the sea.
“ here, old father, here are your sons. Look out on the night sea. See the foam and bubbles of the surf. There you are. There they also. The sadness of the human world! Chasing empty phantoms and the vanity of permanence. Blind and deaf to your place in the great sea. Be not aggrieved, old father. Soon you will return to your sons. Soon will ye all re-emerge. Never have you been separate. Never, though mortal eyes see it not”
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21st CENTURY VOLUSPA
“The scribes of both sides, call ‘balance!’
spell out ‘License!’
hate, rage and greed
spark the furnace, light the pyre.
The speakers in Congress
wait for rain to quench the bonfire.
It roars from street to street, and yet,
they wait for rain
2
The great bull roars by the garth of trades,
It’s fetters shall snap, the dread beast stampede
I see the ship of crisis approach
Be calm now- sleep
The cycle will proceed
3
Freedom! Cry the tyrants
Liberty! Cry the thieves
Tradition! Cry the vulgarisers
But be not over troubled
For I see perpetual Springs