Writing as Resistance

“The Goal: an era of investigative poesy wherein one can be controversial, radical, and not have the civilization rise up to smite down the bard. To establish and to maintain it. POETS MAY REMAIN IN THE RADIX, UNCOMPROMISING, REVOLUTIONARY, SEDITIOUS, ABSOLUTE.”
—Ed Sanders, 1976

Canto I


Broken was the pattern,
               like signals between two
Ages appeared suddenly having
               always been linked;
Simple code defining loneliness
               among existing things
Clearly fundamental, absolutely the case,
Seemed now artificial; exactly as to
Have been created, which was not
In this context good; for in being true
It rendered goodness false,
               Its form its Ideal’s inverse.


One will batter themselves
               into psychic pulp
Fragmented virtually around the cage
Projecting an illusory self,
By compulsive objectification,
Hunger for attention, status, power,
Under hierarchical pretense
               in order to enslave;
Domesticate the human being
Radicalized to violence
               only against itself,
Indivisible from its propagated
               divisions; turning
On the contrived schizophrenia
Woven through our brains
               like a veil of satin,
Strands delicate with spider’s desire.


Fear soaked threads twitching
               from the constant
Pulse of controlling information,
Obfuscating the hope that
We were parasitized to tune out;
The coagulant of mass delusion’s
               ventriloquist’s strings
Were suddenly, one day, snipped;
Revealing to our awakened
By drip—which, prophesying
               the deluge to come
& cleansing our senses
               of its corrupting program—
Retuned our ears
               to spiritual harmonies
But, new as this was
               to the dusty faculties
And, as far from what one
               is bred to believe
Could ever be understood,
The truth once glimpsed
Was to be branded but the ill mind’s
               fanciful vision—
Such seeming significance
               repressed & forgotten,
Forced back into the recesses
               of memory like
The impression of a dream
One conflates on waking
               with reality.


As such, all remained
Rather than attract together
               our core human
Energies repelled themselves
Kept separate, self-involved,
Reinforcing with strong faith
               the memes of our prison;
Compartmentalizing the eternal
               into well-worn tropes;
Ending all people’s movements
By memorializing them beyond
Recognition, emphasizing
               their façade;
Assassinating our leaders with
Statues; capitalizing on their dreams;
Appropriating dissent to fit trends,
Stripping it of its function;
Selling instead the naked image
Rendered just meat on a screen
Campaigning for attention.


Before ours became the era
Of superficial connection,
Before growing jaded from
The excess of information;
Conditioned to dismiss
Alternatives to party lines
And weary of alternatives;
Not because we knew what
               was right
But due to our busyness;
With contradicting messages,
               double binds,
As after all, truth is pedantic
Compared to entertaining lies;
A sliver of the unsatisfied flock
Had already turned away
From deceitful shepherding
               herding themselves
Came to see these fences didn’t
Even exist but in the mind;
So like a shard of sharp critique
Lodged in our collective brain
They tried to jolt us awake:


A message long thought
                stomped out,
Ridiculed and assimilated
As a flash of idealism
Sadly extinguished by the
               facts of the matter,
The more realistic
Side of the coin—which is
               to say—another
Way of stating the will
               of the State;
That is, of course, permitted
               to hold
Contradictory perspectives
When in service of its
               bottom line,
So, even when its wrong
               its right;
Controlling what’s possible
               for you to believe;
Training its subjects
               to self-correct;
Narrow your own
               cell walls;
But—nothing set in stone—
Whatever Will tries
               to determine
The fate of our world,
               being confronted
With eternally recurring
               powers of resistance—
Our human creativity & love—
Shall find its desire for
               immutable tyranny
Never fully consummated;
               everlastingly blocked.


One could not rule the world
By fear alone if fear itself
               ceased to exist;
And if—as you already know
The enemy must be
Indeed, is by the very one
who contrives to protect,
Then, fearing nothing that
Exist apart from itself,
               you will have
Stumbled upon the unity
               of opposites;
You will have bridged that gap
Which, in fact you must have
For we are always all at once
As Herman Melville wrote:
Loose-Fish and… Fast-Fish,