Thursday, October 18, 2012

Life and Other Miracles 4

Requiem for Genius Lost


Let me join my voice to that which forgot the cult of genius,

that was not so disturbed by mystery of genius known and

worshipped by the world, but genius lost and never heard,

forgotten before it could be remembered by its ignorant kind.


Forsooth, the books of history filled by ought by half million

of men and women who rewrote the world, who answered

questions on different terms asked, who beyond the cotton-

field they tread saw the depths of earth and heights of sky.


And they knew what the angels are privy to: what orbit

doth the sun-star make round the singularity of space, what

force doth well replace the yoke of beast and men. They

knew how to planet’s tug escape, and sing a new song of praise.


But instead, a hundred-fraction is remembered today, their

ideas found by many long before, but whose voice was

silenced by the maurader and master who looked no more

than lifespan ahead – and denied them speech of written work.


What was writ was burned, what was spake unheard went.

Yet if it were instead, consider what leaps we would have made:

not our fathers, but ten generations ago a man would have stepped

on moon’s face, and our fathers would have seen far-lit suns already.


But instead we ask again, and search for answers found, imagined.

Even today, the call to bring humanity into age falls on deaf ears,

far away from the slave in sweatshop that dreams of flight amidst

the stars, and consoles self with song known only to herself.


Silent sybils, muted truthspeakers: with thine light so hidden

hides the nature of our dark universe, of our dark and forgotten

future. But I lift the bowl a bit, make thine multitude known

and present, before thy brilliance by smoke suffused, dies.

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