The eternal flash of lights
on the Boulevard. How sweet and majestic,
and what scorn. What pity and shame
lies in men’s hearts? To create such a wonder,
how unorthodox, how unnatural!
I watch and wait for the end
of time – when all is anew. Perhaps, all is
indeed lost, sooner than we think. The
Fortunes of the beguilers; We are represented
in our belongings left-over.
Again, the flashes near and far: they daze,
give weary comfort. Superfluous and beyond
hopeful penance – I foresee disaster. When
man is noble in circumstances, only to suitors,
The jumbling, the hub-bub of the gentle
city, leaves me breathless. Alas, my soul
for a crumb. Upon the dying boughs
the leaves ponder: the lights, the lights!
Where is hope?
Walking, driving, laughing, hugging;
Hope is oblivious. The wandering eyes of the
lone philosopher. The dilemmas – oh!
but the price to pay! lessons to be learned!; if
change cometh not, we are forsaken.
The forced fasting – of morals and bellies and minds -
everywhere. Disgusting! And still sitting, waiting,
planning; alone. A spark, aha!, a burning -
an idea! Maybe, by grace of divine Reason:
salvation… but first,
A poem about the destructive, oblivious nature of man’s current position on the road to destiny. We put personal satisfaction before the good of the world (not just the countries and peoples, but the ecosystems as well), and if this continues we shall see the end of all that has sustained humanity’s advancement: nature. On a higher level, this poem seeks to show that nature is being put behind human progress in terms of importance as evidenced by the dying of the trees (they are simply decorations and no longer necessities in our industrial world) and the omnipresent lights (a symbol of the modern world).