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Agosto 18, 2005

Man (Gregory Corso)

Man

Prologue to what has to be a long long poem

The good scope of him is history, old and ironic;
Not modern history, unfulfilled and blurred —
Bleak damp fierce thunderous lightning days;
Poor caveman, so scared of the outside,
So afeared of its power and beauty,
Created a limit, and called that limit God —
Cell, fish, apeman, Adam;
How was the first man born?
And why has he ceased being born that way?

Air his fuel, will his engine, legs his wheels,
Eyes the steer, ears the alert;
He could not fly, but now he does —
The nails hair teeth bones blood
All in communion with the flesh;
The heart that feels all things in life
And lastly feels in death;
The hands in looks and action are masterful;
The eyes the eyes;
The penis is a magic wand,
The womb is greater than Spring —

I do not know if he be Adam's heir
Or kin to ape,
No man knows; what a good driving mystery —
I can imagine a soul, the soul leaving the body,
The body feeding death, death simply a hygiene;
I can wonder the world the factory of the soul,
The soul putting on a body like a workman's coveralls,
Building, unbuilding, rebuilding.
That man can think soul is a great strange wonderful thing —

In the beginning was the word; man has spoken —
The Jews, the Greeks; chaos groping behind;
Exalted dignity sings; the blind angel's cithara
Twanged no chain-reaction that World War be the Trojan War,
Not with the goddess Eris denied a wedding seat;
No praise of man in my war, wars have lost their legendariness —
The Bible sings man in all his glory;
Great Jew, man is hard stem of you,
Was you first spoke love, O noble survivor;
The Greeks are gone, the Egyptians have all but vanished;
Your testament yet holds —

The fall of man stands a lie before Beethoven,
A truth before Hitler —
Man is the victory of life,
And Christ be the victory of man —
King of the universe is man, creator of gods;
He knows no thing other than himself
And he knows himself the best he can;
He exists as a being of nature
And sustains all things in being;
His dream can go beyond existence —
Greater the rose?
The simple bee does not think so;
When man sings birds humble to piety;
What history can the whale empire sing?
What genius ant dare break from anthood
As can man from manhood?
King Agamemnon! Mortal man!
Ah, immortality —

Posted by dalegrett at Agosto 18, 2005 01:37 PM Posted to Antropología | Gregory Corso | Literatura | Poesía

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