Eco-tistical Denial

Posted by Erik Moshe on Sunday, January 27, 2013 Under: Poetry


I’m not a monk
Don’t call me that
No crossroads

A field is the only threshold I pander
molesting the shrubs and grass with matured leather footwear
I move through cropped neighborhoods without consideration
for the young weeds in bloom or the fully grown grass
I am the footprint of insecticide
a migrating emissary from Quandary Garden pacing outwardly
I’ll cross Asia on foot to Africa if I must
I’ll cross the Red Sea to Mongolian ranges
with a purpose that’s anything but destitute
Rest assured,
I will forge bonds between the mandarin and dark skinned
As four suns burn the brunt of my advancing movements,
I’ll resist, and find a way to meet an accord

There are no feathered arrows in my back sling
There is a crossbow behind my skull-crown
propelling me from land to sea, to strait, to cavelight
It shoots me as far as I can go up mountainsides
though manmade weaponry tends to lack dexterity
I embrace traditional determination; sporty climbs
spirited walks through a battle-brazen paradise
tinted by the bronze sword, enriched by the iron watermill
Just passing through, a ripple in this water-less canyon
I travel without the aid of an airport
or a guiding eagle or a canine for the blind
I make no errands on behalf of another
my encampment is the roadside wheat
No messenger on horseback nor pitched tent

There is something dreamlike and worthy
about an eternal pessimist whose faith lies in the stars
Who develops enough patience to travail an environment
to walk away as the embodiment of it

Deserters in war must deal with a desert
Being outcasts in an indefinite wasteland of their own doing
To survive, is to be a survivor
To earn life by evading death’s unannounced annual taxes
A nomad has mastered adaptability to changing surroundings
gathering lumber of thought
stoking the firewood of human identity
for as long as it burns synchronically with his heart’s will

Which brings me to a question:
What’s a templar like me
doing in a Maltese expanse like you?

In : Poetry 



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