The Myth of Memory
I’m a romantic, and I’m too busy to do much about it. The best I can do is put it into words. These are days when we have to be strong, courageous, and expand ourselves beyond our fears.
The Myth of Memory belongs to the following groups:
Angel Wings and Heaven, End Times, Living Christianity and WMGMen once lived a thousand years
with centuries given to assuage their fears.
Even so, our wise sons, our daughters able
forsook the path and followed fables.
They ruled in hollows, shadow bound
Named barren hillsides “holy ground”.
Serving stone, and fearing fire,
knowing truth, sought to acquire
alliances with souls long expired.
Fighters prudent donned armor blessed,
that no blade wrought could pierce the breast.
Beastly Nimrod slew them, nevertheless.
Few dared against the fortress king protest.
A deluge grim swept those days away,
leaving primeval fragments in the brain.
These we teach as myth today,
archetypal castles rooted in clay.
Still, there are those stillborn dreams,
that cause men perplexed to inward lean.
These visions bid us “come return”,
take up the diadems we spurned.
I remember felling nefarious giants,
their demise being my holy assignment.
When came the end of the serpent’s seed,
our innocent found their tranquility.
The Anakim hordes could not be spared;
Nor could the vile Nephilim better fare.
In those days kings dressed their thrones
with plunder drawn from Orphir’s womb.
And the watchers left their starry host
to consort with mortals favored most.
It is no secret that men burn today
shackled by stresses that tear and fray.
His once clear vision, becoming obscured,
refuses his grasp, and fails to endure.
The creation itself, sighs heavily, trails.
When tremors deal their gasping travails,
man’s finer edges wax slight, and fail.
The fearful parts splinter and collide.
And horror aggrieves the quieter side.
Featured on the news, that night–
Man Loses Grip, shoots all– then self.
Police can find no reason why.
Modernity lacks the moral density required
to subdue the inward beast man has sired.
Distractions tempt well, tease true awhile.
but most fail to fully satisfy.
Man spends through them all to find
the heart hungers still, persistent pines–
Not for his laptops, toys or feral cars– no!
He wants to earn his battle scars.
Each one comes with its own account
of beauties saved, and all hell’s surmount.
Younger brains are more apt to retain
myths left behind, when memory wanes.
The more scholarly hold a quarterly funeral
for Cuculainn, King Arthur, and Quetzlcoatl.
Some groan, however, as the syllabus is read,
Sink low in their seats, in apparent regret.
Their studious life, while cerebral and safe
is pedantic and aimless, a dreadful waste.
The lifespan of centuries, gone, save one–
So much for heaven’s favored sons!
We groan to ponder those adventures lost,
but tremble to think what such perils cost.
Our fear to take a chance may be
the reason we shake the fist at deity.
We think it better to refuse belief
than grow the soul into reverie.
© C. Heidt, 2008
Tony Ryan
Admire your depth of thought. Cannot claim to understand all of what you wrote but have had buttons pushed. I believe that we humans supress so much of our experience and suffer due to the ignorance of memory. Also believe that the memory is still powerfully exchanged through our unconscious thoughts. Hence the violence you described where the man lost control and killed others and then himself. I beleive if we really embraced deep and passionate thinking that we would create such an incredible existence on earth.
Christopher Heidt replied
Thanks for your incites! I don’t claim to have the answers, either, but I do find memories an interesting subject. There are unfortunately fewer and fewer people I come across, that consider the possibility that we are much more (in time and space) than we perceive. There may be generations of experience stored in our minds, generational memories, stored. There may be a kind of collective memory inside. It’s just something to think about. A lot of people, for example, horde things. People I know do this. With some it’s a big part of their routine. You walk in their home and encounter columns of stuff, up to the ceiling. It’s strange on the surface, but for these people, each thing is tied to memory, and so they horde because they want to save the memory tied to the object. It’s like they are trying to “keep” something intangible, and fear being plundered one day, somehow. I think a lot of people who go nuts these days, these mass shooters for example, do so because they feel modernity has “plundered” them. They identify others, the ones who can adjust as allied with the plunderer, and through violence, they believe they are plundering the plunderer. They want to get back what’s been taken, and are frustrated because they don’t know how all of what they valued has been lost. It’s like they’ve been bullied to the point of breaking. Well, thanks for leaving your thoughts. I appreciate your leaving your comments, and enduring my own!
Tony Ryan
Hi again Christopher,
Really facinated with your thoughts. I fully agree that we are so much more than we seem to accept. I beleive that we humans have access to so much power of creation. That life can be so much more fulfilling and abundant if we really go deep into our inner being. Re your theories on plunered and plunderer. I wonder if this could be connected also to group consciousness/memory. Some people I know who are destructive seem to act from an unconscious reaction to love/hurt. That they have at one time experienced the most amazingly free and powerful love but have then experienced deep hurt soon afterwards. From this place they than seem to fear loving again and attack those who threaten to bring their walls down. In attacking they seem justified almost because at some level they feel they know the real truth. ie; That love hurts and that anyone who suggests they should love is in some way tricking them to just be damaged all over again. On a human history level I wonder if this relates to a distant past time where perhaps humans experienced total freedom and love only to lose it and fall into struggle and pain.
Best Wishes Tony.