Suppose There Is No Armageddon

This poem visited me insistently over a period of weeks, demanding that I write down the stanzas even in the middle of the night, in the dark, on a pad I kept on my bedside stand.

I had become fed up with cries of doom I’d been hearing from many directions – so many; you’ve likely heard them too – whether the doomsayers be New Agey or Christian or Mormon or the year 2000 awfulness coming just because of the numbers… or merely neighborhood prophets who have dreams and recount them with eyes prominent. Crystal skulls and Mayan Calendars; Earth tilting on its axis (now that would be an adventure; and over so rapidly – would we even have time to descry our fate?) – how the water will run out first, and then society will deteriorate into barbarism… and all of it.

I just felt fed up. My mom told me how, when she was a little girl, the end of the world was predicted for a certain day. Everyone in the small town in Northern California gave each other their furniture, since they would no longer need it, and on the appointed day climbed a hill behind the town and waited. And the bees buzzed and the grass grew and the birds twittered in the trees, and the sun rose and fell and at evening the people crept sheepishly home. And then they had to go get their furniture back.

I’m not saying this planet won’t end – nothing remains forever; if it did all things would expire of boredom. I just object to, like, the style of it all – the certainty about things uncertain. The Saturnine frowns. And this poem came to me.

It’s long – about 15 minutes I think. It’s been fabulously well-received at every venue where I’ve performed it. I recently brandished it before a young relation who persisted in trying to warn me about the evil plots of the Illuminati, threatening to read her the Whole Thing and if she could produce any Illuminati and show them to me, I’d read it to them too.

It gives me joy to stand against the whole world if necessary and say Hah!

And I don’t even care if I’m wrong – right now I’m on target – for me – and that’s all one can hope for; and it gives me joy to stand up for…  dancing in the streets; hugs abundant; life lived in the body. Awareness and love expanding.

I have a Poet’s License and i use it.

Click here to listen, or right click to download MP3

2 comments to Suppose There Is No Armageddon

  • Madhuri

    A friend, a musician/landscaper (I’ve not seen for about 39 years!), commented on this post via e-mail. With his permission I quote him here in full (at the risk of blowing my own horn; nevertheless the words are his! I’ve been asking him to write a book someday… his e-mails are word-delight):
    “I have been visiting your blog and greatly enjoying all that i have found. And then I was reading about the birth of “Suppose There is No Armageddon.” And then I clicked on the sound version and stuff got transformed.
    “First of all, there is your voice: It is mellow yet acrobatic in its flexibility. It is soothing and draws me in. I loved the crescendo section where you brought direct judgment upon the concept of doom and its spokespeople. Your voice built in volume, moving out of the rhythm loops and into broad band crests, then building down to your main flow. It was good to hear. it was good use of dynamics.
    “And your rhythms: Your performance of the reading was prit’neer perfect. The few times that the flow faltered, it reestablished itself quickly.
    “It was very musical in its rhythms, driven by your sweet facile voice.
    “And your thought stream: A thorough and insightful journey through sweet meadows, glades, and ponds, bypassing negativity and linking up with the positive cosmic conscious mode, in every ‘suppose.’
    “And there were many times when I was jolted with the brilliance of the turns of phrase. I made pleased sounds: hoots, guffaws, sighs (with a shake of the head), and many repeats of the spoken word “AMAZING.”
    “Oh, and the word “Suppose” found a parking space one over from “Imagine”, which has perpetual ownership by John Lennon. I am assuming that you are keenly aware of that.
    “So, all in all, it was a tour de force… Especially because it was your voice doing the reading.
    “Your lead-in to the reading was enjoyable as well. You seemed relaxed at the mike. And your turns of phrase were peppered into the back story. The audience liked it, but only took in a little of the tweek and tickle that it all was. But they got it in their own ways.
    love, Carl”

  • Al Getty

    We listened to this last night, after you told me of it’s location, goes to show how well I read what is put before me, but this was exceptionally good listening. Which leads to a CD that will go in the snail mail today 02-08-2010 with some readings recorded from an LP called Songs of Old Scotland, a deplorable waste of money except for the ones I recorded for your consideration.
    Your voice and reading was very enjoyable,and as I mentioned before Poetry is best heard than read.
    I hope that this is the right way and thing to do.

    From the twisted mind of the “Nudist Bhuddist”

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