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Sans End
Are we going to destroy ourselves? Timothy Victor Richardson's poem, "Sans End", sums up the endless delusions we've shared that have gotten us into so much trouble. Television is the symbol of how we employ distraction to close off our conscious mind from our own destructive tendencies and the misery we create. Interpretation by Jeff Flint. Graphic courtesy, bigfoto.com SANS END by Timothy Richardson Smiles at our paralyzing cares come out
injects bright bites pretending satisfaction
Succeeding empires rake the sky in heaps
forget the marble carcasses of Rome.
they only hope to rest in cases of glass.
once they have had their dream who wash the swollen
or a poisoned planet, life from other spheres—
Perhaps all earths breed fallen, toxic creatures
old flesh to thwart the shadow of God’s wish
who give up on the place their parents lost
and scratch the dome of air over which God broods
who mine pride’s rich deposits till they hold
and threaten to have their way or blow it off.
What is a human heart: ventriloquist’s hand
Do years of original thought line aging faces
Are we a necessary plague God takes
His languishing creation and keep it whole
their primal grounds, never tore the tail
Then, the astounded teeth of stars come on,
floods things that change your active life, forever.
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Category: Social Commentary
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