Some Say

I read this book once which posited that back around the time of the French revolution the storyteller's ego became detached from the life-giving Self, and so all writers became trapped in their own world churning out material which came from this deficient part of their psyche rather than from the broad-minded, whole and mature aspects of the mind. Now I don't know what it was about that argument but it completely took over my conscious thought, and then my subconscious...

Between 2007 & 2016, on and off I tried to write that 10,000 page poem to extinguish my ego which in the end became The Magical Kingdom available elsewhere on this blog. The truth is I came nowhere near to wiping my ego from its position at the very centre of my being because we are simply unable to complete the job ourselves; instead, I watched my son being born and the experience was such that I instantly stopped thinking of myself and put my wife and boy first - now that's leaving ego behind.

Anyway, the darkness came (through Descartes?), we dispensed with God and ended up facing the pointlessness of existence (Waiting for Godot). We could have put God back on the map but instead we fell in love with technology, coming on the back of books, cinema, video games and mobile phone transmissions. Trouble is, they're all ego led and end in darkness, concluding there's no benignity in the cosmos. What do you think? This is Some Say...

Some say it started years ago
When revolutions rolled
Through Europe and America,
New ideas therefrom strolled

Right through our very conscious minds
Before deep dive below,
Where dreams and Limbo intersect
In dumb and stupid show.

Leading thinkers of the age
Infected by such pleasure,
Cancelled out a past which 
Strong societies all treasure.

And that’s the point, ay, there’s the 
Rub, where did this actual start?
At what stage in our history
Did revert we basic part?

When did it become so dark
And dangerous that those powers
Had control of all of us,
Including our grave flowers?

Placing them one side, then 
Taking spade to dig the earth,
Wrenching decomposing corpse
Destroying memory’s worth.

That’s when it came to me,
The adolescent tragedy
In which the Moor, was plain to see,
Behaved he quite abominably

Pulling dead men from their rest
Set upright at friends’ doors,
Carved in chests a hateful message
Sorrow his applause.

But this was puerile effort,
Though a straight line would be drawn
From Aaron through Iago, Edmund
Brains they owned o’er brawn

Manipulating others, 
Through control destroying those,
The good this wretched world
Who would their wicked will oppose.

I used to blame poor Descartes
For the state we’re in today,
Separating mind and body,
Soul left in dismay.

But that’s quite as futile as
The Bard being sole in charge
Of gross absurdity our age
Continuing to enlarge.

No, he was more clever,
Of course, for genius knows
Removing God from our equation
Splatters face our nose.

Look at the Lear universe
Where deity is dead,
Or if indeed exists at all
It on our pain is fed.

And then I blamed poor Darwin,
Scientist of massive note,
Another genius the world
Whole species by his rote.

Or even Galileo, that
Victim persecuted
By a church in need reform
Since Pardoners hirsuted

Conned the very populace
They should have been protecting,
Caused the Reformation
(‘Sola fide’ needs inspecting).

Anyway, it ended up
With tramps beside the road,
Vladimir and Estragon
In need of helpful toad

To show them quite the difference
Tween the two thieves on the cross,
The Penitent with truthful thought,
Impenitent at loss.

Look, we jettison the prophets,
Jesus, God and Ghost,
The final messenger Mohammed
Lake of fire we’ll roast;

There is a moral Law the cosmos
Scatters quite the proud
Imagination of their hearts,
A hardened, wrathful crowd.

The planet is a-warming,
There is no doubt of that,
Its temperatures keep climbing
Won’t be kept out by sun hat,

But if we keep on listening
To ex-presidents like him,
Encouraging our children angry
Back of queue so dim

We’ll end up in the Grimpen Mire,
Hound of Hell our throat,
Tearing it till bloody mucus
Blocks up Dartmoor moat.

We need God back, and on our map
Protecting from above,
Go to John 3:16
And its message there of love

See, Hades, Underworld & Sheol
Lacked any kind of care,
Concern for human beings
Was at bottom their welfare   
  
They kept them shade and shadow,
Cerberus and deadened judge,
Rhadamanthus his gavel
Tartarean soul sludge.

But with Christ’s appearance 
Came a calendar for man,
We were held in high esteem
Our cannot turned a can.

But what did we do with this love,
This unearned comfort whole,

We chucked it back our Giver’s face
Returned our sinful soul.

By turn of twentieth century then
We thought we’re best alone,
Two World Wars resultant
Miracle a third unknown.

And now we’re in the twenty first,
And twenty years at that
Our faith is in technology
A great big steaming twat!   

It has no love for us,
It simply drains our lives away,
Till one day do we drop down dead
Quite wasted our foray.

People may say nice things,
Our funeral e’en attend,

There eulogise about our life
The goodness we did tend.

You see, the grand illusion
As it ever comes to us
Through social media, likes and followers
Making of us fuss

Was actual planted long ago
When we began to read,
Each paper, pamphlet, book or novel
Then our daily feed,

Quite drawing line our psyches,
Splitting up our minds,
Dividing our subconscious thought
So that it then unwinds

Just like this piece before you,
Writers madder still,
Plundering our crazy thoughts
So we can have our fill.

We’re bonkers as each other,
Relationship is sick,

The writer creates twaddle
Which the reader absorbs quick

But then it got more tasty
When dark cinema was found,
Film now dumping pictures
On the canvas of our round

The moment television sat
The corner of our room
Was when collective sanity
Lit up and then went boom!

Computing followed quickly,
Gaming its coat tails,
Before we’d even realised
New multiverse blew gales.

Forget your meta nonsense,
We’re already screwed
Technology has humped us
And then eaten us for food.

There is no hope, there never was
When mobile phones got clever,
Taking all our time, our heads
Plunged in their never-never.

Never mind the wisdom of the
Ages that have past,
Care for soul and spirit
Through our life until its last

Plunder, pillage, rape
The information that is ours,
Live unto the moment
Planet Earth and then on Mars.

For make mistake it none
That destination is ours next,
Never mind the mess we’ve made
Of this one, we’re all hexed,

Abandoning belief in higher
Power up above,
Content to stuff our faces with
Transmission’s lack of love.

That’s why the rate of suicide
Is smashing through the roof,
Self-harm, depression, gloominess
In charge and on the hoof,

It’s why the news can tell us
That we’re never ever safe,
In life, in death, and in between
Our happiness does strafe,

We’re so inured we hardly notice
We’ve already lost
Our whole entire being
To this behemoth’s grand cost.

Leviathan has managed to 
Unhook from scaly jaws
The ring that kept it tethered
To divinity’s grand cause

It snorts in ire and with its
Massive pitchforked tail
Floods us extra water
On our homeland’s system frail.

So alone we feel,
So utterly devoid of care,
We even think the planet
That we live on strips us bare

The only way, the only way
To get out of this bind
Is recognise a hand benign
Which guides us humankind,

Put the golden calf away,
The selfie stick as well,
Open up our hearts and minds
To others’ rightful swell.

Bury disagreement with the
Spade of consolation,
Accept a rival point of view
As next to our own station.

Refrain from demonising those
We otherwise would friend,
Opinions are ephemeral as
Broken fences mend.

Some say it started years ago
When revolutions rolled,
It’s time to reckon with them
And return our shepherd’s fold.