Daisy Chains of a Kneel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem composed in response to the dictatorial policies imposed upon a group of volunteers in Oxfam.

Submitted: December 13, 2012

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Submitted: December 13, 2012



The thin line of authority
Imposes itself benevolently
Sharpened blades insist themselves onto
Initially unsuspecting but otherwise similar blades
Double edged blades grow
But only one side knows
The egotism made turgid by the blood of tears,
Shall this other this more noble blade
Grow upward yet insignificant whilst its neighbour scorns.

Hollow aching squints at the squints of sharpened blades,
Dust – resented – still squinting. A soft snow of ignorance.
Agonising squints fall onto insignificance like infinite rain onto vacuous spheres.
Squint after squint after squint
When shall you be watered?
More so than any other
So that you might grow and tower and rule and be superior
Into the darkness into the light out of the shadow,
The absurdity of a kneel – spherical nothingness as the ultimate despiser
For a despiser despises himself likewise he despises others
Whether they be lovers or brothers or makers of sunlight
Feed and grow feed and grow then wilt if not permeated with power,
Blade by blade, I scream at thee, ‘blade of blade – set thyself free’,
Shackles of the sharpened blade – fettering – blade for blade,
The wake of a blade’s existence is your command; my command.

Daisy chains-a-fettering, slay your squint and afforest, your squinting squint
In this ocean of nothingness.
Where others derive satisfaction among the daisy-chains
For beautiful they be but practical they be not
The eye of the beholder that seeks such pleasure
Is the eye of he who loses all desire,
In doing so his striving dissipates
Aesthetic experience dissipates all power
Ridicules the great
Whether he be great now or living in anticipation of greatness

A trunk of truth slaughtered, subverted, Jenga blocks retracted by greed – (a hollowing tower of man)
‘My striving is unfathomable
My sandwiches are reasonable
My ability to delegate
Is insatiable’
A blade of grass
A blade of grass
A blade of grass
But soon to be
All greatness
‘I look up and the sun makes me squint’
The trees
The trees
The trees

You, the naming of Mercury, Mercury,
Are the hollowness of that onto it.
Spheres are minds and minds are spheres
A blade of grass has no sphere
But you are the exception to the rule
A blade with no sphere cannot recognise a blade whose sphere
Plans and rules,
Structures and Procedures are nothingness to the structure and procedure of an anti-squint.
So listen and obey
There may be chaos
But once the dust settles
Your leader will emerge victorious
And then the non sphere will recognise the sphere
As dust, to be dusted.

‘Whenever you’re ready...

Move those boxes’, Jenga blocks or otherwise.
Squinting, ‘Have you read the notice on the wall?’

‘Don’t you get me man?’

By B.N. Lofthouse

© Copyright 2018 BN Lofthouse. All rights reserved.

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