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Threshing Season

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  • Threshing Season

    By their
    invocations,
    we now
    know them,
    and
    alas
    with revolt,
    or adulation
    corresponding,
    have come to know ourselves,
    as perhaps,
    we had not yet
    come to be known.
    In countenance,
    ungirded
    by the blunted truths,
    of this
    our threshing season.

    That the nations
    should
    find us sober
    when,
    to labour's crosses,
    have found
    lesser men,
    tilted to the barrel.

    For we
    by choosing,
    declare intentions
    surpassing
    individual ambitions,
    and
    by preference,
    unmask
    our true identity.



  • #2
    Very true - and sometimes the willingness to make difficult (but honorable) choices - is made more difficult by surrounding hordes of those who 'think' they are choosing, but are actually being swept along on emotion. '...our threshing season...' beautiful language here DWAYNE - sobering language.

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    • #3
      What's left to question. Who sells the grain, once the wheat is separated from the shaft.

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      • #4
        I love the depth in this most splendid poem - bordering on the abstract yet always leaning toward the inevitable truth, the threshing machine, as it were, unmasked with the proverbial spanner cast into the works, portraying mankind in the light of lesser men and in reality "tilted to the barrel" en masse, choosing the chaff and blowing with the winds of populism. A very fine poem by a very fine poet. Excellent! Regards, Tony.

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        • #5
          Very nice, thank you Dwayne!

          I love how you've started it:
          By their
          invocations,
          we now
          know them,
          and
          alas
          with revolt,
          or adulation
          corresponding,
          have come to know ourselves,

          Comment

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