Know One to Preach

My vacant village…more vacant than before

Tattered, elicit affairs lay at St. Gabriel’s altar

All the residents have wrapped up testaments into a crumpled yellowed newspaper, and gone home

Golden saviors, cloaked and free of fear, are unabated…akin to flea market trinkets…nothing but grab bags of unidentified…barren bones

Diamond crusted good Samaritans with chips on their robes seem to walk the same streets as forgotten servants. Each and everyone…lost from their thrones.

Not one left to preach

Know one to preach

No one left to dictate the streets that are lone.

Social Realism

Suppose you had the revolution you were talking and dreaming about.  Suppose your side had won, and you had the kind of society that you wanted.  How would you live, you personally, in that society?  Start living that way now!

Paul Goodman

The Magpie

I walked one day

In the Garden of Wasted Things,

And there I found

The bitter ghosts of all that had been spent unwisely,

Or lost through brutal circumstance.

I found the childhood

That some labourer’s child had never known;

I found the youth that some young man had squandered;

There I found some poet’s genius

That had gone unrecognised.

I saw the ghosts of idle words,

And small talk,

That men had used to waste away the hours.

I saw the hopes that had been smothered,

And all the dreams

That never had come true,

And Laughter that had died for lack of bread.

I met with all the lives that had been misdirected,

And spoke with dreary shades

Of loves that might have been,

And songs that never had been sung.

I met with all these ghosts,

And many more;

And each of them

Sat silently in the shadows,

Brooding over quirks of mad Creation,

And puppets’ dreams.

Robert Warshow