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we are us
by Rob LittlerAs some Ancient Alien Theorists believe.
What is the endpoint of this enabling?
When petty sophomoric suicidal tendencies,
Though Operatic as they are, are nonetheless
Debilitating and authentic. That same confused
Endurance to begin again and again because
It was fathomable in the face of its blind recklessness
Because bliss is the first instinct--in place of Politics, and knowing better
The wisdom never comes, or suffices when it does:
The more you know you know you know the less you know.
Forever. I will die at the twilight, when the first Alien
Father returns from under the great waters, emerging from the Plasma
To tell us They have been here all along. And we are us.
We have this habit of not noticing our own shadow.
11/17/2013 Posted on 11/17/2013
Copyright © 2025 Rob Littler
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/18/13 at 03:42 PM Love that last line, in particular. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 12/31/13 at 08:15 PM Theorists being shadows of their former selves, what is to come is already past...metamorphic messianic necrophiles rule (?) |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 02/05/14 at 04:10 PM with this ode you endeavor upon a most intelligent and probing and profound search for meaning. To endure or not endure, that is always the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and explanations of modern men or rather seek to glean a less modern explanation of the ancients/aliens? who rather suspected all along that the less we know the more we know and that light isn't necessarily the way to go and that shadows are nothing to fear but they have much to tutor, and they would endeavor to do so, if only we had the courage to turn around and see what benevolence has been tailing us all along. |
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