The Last day of sanity

You burned the books. Too many pages and insights.
A paper mountain of truths you couldn’t climb.
Ripping out the hearts of those lonely men who confessed everything.
In unintelligible writing.
How you move through us now.
A pulsing fire like the sacking of Troy.
You leave them restless and weak.
Numbed by those empty regions of your mind.
There is a fire in Heaven tonight.
A blaze that the tears of angels could not extinguish.
Yet it floods down here on earth.
A holy water that washes everything clean, but you.
That fire above reflects in your velvet eyes.
An empty pit of pity, where not even the righteous can escape.
But you pay no mind, for there is no mind to offer.
Flashing snow white bones to all who see.
As you move through once more, the Helen of your own making.
Laughing, as the Heavens fall.

7 thoughts on “The Last day of sanity

  1. Seldom does someone write a poem that the title alone makes me wish I could wash away the evil it speaks of with my own and the world’s tears. But this is just such a poem, Mark. The poem from the title to the last line made me wish we humans could wash away our own evils with our own human tears.

    Even the “asides” in this poem grabbed me. e.g. the “lonely men who confess”, and who when they do, confess in words “unintelligible” to others. What did you pay for those insights, I wonder Mark?

    Someone put me on the spot by asking me “what is poetry?” the other day. They made me realize I hadn’t thought much about that subject. I’ve been thinking ever since. One thought: “To me it’s the use of metaphor to paint truths”. Not everyone’s definition or ideal, and that’s cool with me, but it’s my ideal of poetry, even if not quite my definition. Another thought: “Two metaphors can contradict each other and yet both point accurately to the same truth.”

    You speak of their “empty minds”. That’s spot on. But you could also have said their “filled up minds”, and that too would have been spot on. At least I think so. Are you familiar with the writings of the great German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who the Nazis almost predictably hanged for being one of those “lonely men who confess the truth”? While in jail awaiting his hanging, he was allowed to write some letters. If that wasn’t strange enough, the Nazis delivered them uncensored!

    I post about a passage from one of those letters in which he offers his metaphors to describe the truth of the “Nazi” mind. The chilling truth. In a way, English doesn’t have words cold enough to describe the Nazi mind.

    Please do not feel any more obligation to read my post than you would feel obligated to read one of your own posts. I offer it free of any obligation for you to read it or not read it.

    Thank you for such a thought-provoking and insightful poem, Mark. Much appreciated.


    • I’m so pleased to see this piece stirred something within you, and thank you for the interesting comments. They definitely got me re-addressing the motives of my piece. This was from the point of view of how emptiness and void is sometimes valued in this world. How perceptions misdirect intent. I do like the paradox of poetry, and like you point out, how relative it can be to people. The biggest evil sometimes is the apathy to evil deeds. But then, one man’s freedom fighter is another man’s terrorist. What is the definition of evil?
      I don’t know too much about Dietrich Bonhoeffer, though the name rings a tiny bell in my head. Reading about him now.
      I guess we never really know people’s motives for everything all the time, sometimes it’s best to work on our own path and hope others follow the right path. Lead by example…and ‘To thine own self be true’, I’ve always thought that.
      And I will certainly make some comments on your post, I’ve read it and thought it very interest. Glad this inspired you in a way.


  2. Pingback: A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: The Lonely People Who Confess Their Honest Truths – Café Philos: an internet café

  3. Mark I love your poetry. It is so resonating to me. For this, I love the last line that says ” as you move through once more, the Helen if your making. Laughing as the Heavens fall.”

    Honestly, there is done thing in me I don’t understand after reading your poems. I guess it is something beautiful, profound, lonely yet redemptive. I will continue to journey in these poems and hopefully manage to be a more creative entity, more attuned to my humanity, more grounded with my being.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, i’m glad you enjoyed it and it spoke to you on any level. It’s always reassuring to hear how these words can resonate with someone. I’m especially pleased to read it inspired you. We all have gold in our veins, and it’s waiting to bleed onto the page. I look forward to reading your work also. Thank you for the kind words.


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