Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Boldt Words & Images: Anthem for the Ninth Day in November 2016 (a poem)

By Bob Boldt

I find myself buoyed up with this strange exhilaration
like watching a glacier calve an iceberg the size of Manhattan
or a strip mine explosion level a Kentucky mountain
phenomena so massive and exceptional they evoke
not despair or fear, but awe.

Now that the circus tent top has blown off
and we have seen the abyss in the night sky above
we know what MacLeish’s poem* warned us of.

Know we are the privileged, the front row seaters
present at the full-tilt, three ring turning of an age.
No way to get the clowns back in the clown car
or stopping them from disassembling the rigging

You want revolution? Well now you have it, pitchforks,
torches and all. If you can’t ride the beast – hide.
You prayed for this day. How dare you try to slow
its chosen course or lecture its ways?

Get used to it: This time was not made for you.
You were made for this time.

Live in the darkest hour. Taste the ruin.
Know the insane power. Sing the dissonant tune.
Freedom is born from lack. Want engenders strength.

In a time of want – strength.
In a time of fear – courage.
In a time of anger – love.
In a time of hopelessness – action.
In a time of despair – poetry!

* “The End of the World,” by Archibald MacLeish

Copyright © 2016 by Bob Boldt


  1. Once for a while the river didn't flow...

    - A deer in the forest