SEPTEMBER 1, 1939 by Auden
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WHEN in the course of human Events, it becomes necessary….
Welcome to the New American Digest: 2001-2022
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
by Shel Silverstein
The steel mill sky is alive.
The fire breaks white and zigzag
shot on a gun-metal gloaming.
Man is a long time coming.
Man will yet win.
Brother may yet line up with brother:
This old anvil laughs at many broken hammers.
There are men who can’t be bought.
The fireborn are at home in fire.
The stars make no noise,
You can’t hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
the people march.
In the night, and overhead a shovel of stars for keeps, the people
march:
“Where to? what next?”
— Carl Sandberg
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It appears History does repeat itself.
How many are sitting in a “dive” or at “home” not really enjoying their libation, realizing yet still denying that the entire world must suffer great violence, trauma and loss before over an inestimable number of years – until almost all become exhausted, without further energy to be angry or act out. … G-d forgive us for what will be necessary in order to restore order and a world of communities living in relative peace.
The most terrifying force of death, comes from the hands of “Men who wanted to be left Alone”.
They try, so very hard, to mind their own business and provide for themselves and those they love.
They resist every impulse to fight back, knowing the forced and permanent change of life that will come from it.
They know, that the moment they fight back, the lives as they have lived them, are over.
The moment the “Men who wanted to be left Alone” are forced to fight back, it is a small form of suicide. They are literally killing off who they used to be. . . .
Which is why, when forced to take up violence, these “Men who wanted to be left Alone”, fight with unholy vengeance against those who murdered their former lives. They fight with raw hate, and a drive that cannot be fathomed by those who are merely play-acting at politics and terror. TRUE TERROR will arrive at the Left’s door, and they will cry, scream, and beg for mercy . . . . but it will fall upon deaf ears.
TOM o’ BEDLAM
Being exists in essence as Potential, for not in Being but Becoming lies The Way.
I am Tom, and so say without saying,
The one and the many’s the same,
When you’ve learned No Knowledge of Nothing
And your kingdom hasn’t a name.
Golden threads tie and bind me,
For I love the glitter of gold;
But what I wear is worn threadbare,
And poor Tom’s ever a-cold.
Tailor my mantel of Sky,
Cobble my boots of black Earth–
For my purse holds riches in dreams,
And I pay in good coin with my mirth.
I have danced in the Eye of a Tiger,
Respect I owe to the Bear.
Wouldst set me aright, sir? A Copper
Will serve as a Sovereign– beware!
Tom as first comes a-begging
Has neither to go nor to stay;
But what all winter’s winds won’t accomplish,
Kind words will wreak in a day.
JPB, 1972
With an host of furious fancies
Whereof I am commander,
With a burning spear and a horse of air,
To the wilderness I wander.
By a knight of ghosts and shadows,
I summoned am to a tourney
Ten leagues beyond the wide world’s end:
Methinks it is no journey.
Yet I will sing, Any food, any feeding,
Feeding, drink, or clothing;
Come dame or maid, be not afraid,
Poor Tom will injure nothing.
Perhaps the Greatest Anonymous Poem in English: “Tom O’Bedlam” | Big Two-Hearted River