the gods i, the gods ii, the gods iii, the gods iv, the gods v, the gods vi, the gods vii, the gods viii, the gods ix, the gods x, the gods xi, the gods xii
the gods vii by Donald Kuspit
the gods have lost
their recklessness,
their intensity exhausted
in rituals of images
and ideas,
their altars cluttered
with tarnished trophies
of intricate thought,
their bodies embalmed
in manufactured enigmas.
o once again to find
a fresh sky
beyond the cross
of consciousness,
even the more miraculous
sky unclouded
by the unconscious.
unadulterated eternity
in a flower,
the sacred freshly blossoming
in the immensity
of its color’s innocence,
feeling no longer forcefed
by longing
for the illimitable
but content
with the incomprehensibly
intimate,
simple seeing
of simple being,
unseen gods spreading
like pollen
from the plenitude
of simplicity.
look with the outward eye,
for the inward looking
eye has become vain,
knowing what it sees
before it sees it,
so that it can never truly see it.
look without wanting
to know,
without mutilating with meaning.
only the simply seen
breeds unknown gods,
no other kind being known
today.
only in life distilled
into immaculate immediacy
can gods be seen,
if never again reckless
enough to power life,
let alone last forever.
Poetry
© 2005-2008 Per Contra: The International Journal of the Arts, Literature and Ideas
the gods vii by Donald Kuspit
