Innate Totems

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Free Verse Poetry
From my novel in-progress, “Occam’s Legacy,” the following is an attempt to create some free verse gist of a conversation between Jarod (an adult becoming) and a befriended Native American war vet, Pump. (Sculpture by Bob Clyatt)

Submitted: November 20, 2018

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Submitted: November 20, 2018

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Innate Totems

Can we ever escape
that which we create,
but often choose to ignore or abuse?

Like the mismatched rocks of a cairn,
random choice is not an option,
as complimenting shapes and sizes,
make up one's balance,
one's direction,
one's harmony.

Yet some…

Aspiring high-rise urban dwellers
live a rock, steel, and glass totem life,
stacking mismatched building blocks,
like mutated animal lineage not of the fittest,

but of less than honorable rewards,
unknowingly making unbalanced direction,
even while gasping air to defy their self-made reality.

Might they be destined to realize a primeval demise,
like a surreal incarnation atop modern scaffold
where ghostly burial rites of Great Plains nomadic tribes
wait to watch and weep?

Can primitive wisdom ever penetrate contemporary importance
before the inverted vortex of balance awaiting its tumble
consumes itself atop, or on the way down,

cascading through this rising sectioned silo of ignorance,
distilling the wrongs of misbegotten power
to but crushed kernels of infinity's hourglass?

Such might be the destiny of man's innate totems,
creation’s unique building blocks that make us the species we are,
even as we desperately try to become a delusional species

we were not meant to be.

 

Unless…

 


© Copyright 2020 Odin Roark. All rights reserved.

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