As Yet, No Title!
by Kirby Congdon…….
We have had the Victorian period and World War I, to which we reacted with the roaring twenties when my mother exposed her ankles for the first time. Then everything went askew and the Depression affected everyone. The revival of self-confidence came with World War II. This was disrupted with the Beats in literature, and let us not forget Sigmund Freud with his exposure of the ego or Karen Horney’s investigations in the psychosomatic. Both of them brought forward the characters we are back there in the brain without knowing it. Everything has been complex from the dial telephone to all that invisible technology going on up there among those weird clouds. The conflict between raw nature and personal convenience becomes more prominent as the weather itself ignores our discussion of it.
We can put up with a lot if there is some meaning out there that gives the jig saw puzzle a little sense. This writer feels it may be presumptuous to take any stance at all but here are his most recent thoughts on the whole miasma of it all with, as yet, no title!
Can a mountain’s peak
still assert its stance
against both sun and stars
or can the vast vistas
of the ocean’s bays
survive the violence
of forgotten storms
if our own eyes forget the shape
of what we saw or when the private touch
of finger tips no longer finds
the sounds they knew
among a keyboard’s chords?
Even as a mind lets go
and its brain misfiles
the names we know
and who their owners were
it is still memory’s debris
that keeps the world alive
and, so, lets our dance survive
behind the closing of who knows what doors
that identify whatever signs there are,
defining our own place
in our own history’s time.