the first man

�Do not wait for the last judgement. It takes place every day.� Albert Camus

Maman sat in the dark
         waiting for the end -
Papa the ‘pied-noir’
wouldn’t be returning
from the dead – those silent ones

        It makes no difference –

The scent of a flower
          or a Woman watching
the crescent moon falling into the ocean
to the windy howls of night –
     ‘Le vent a Djemila’

we are all strangers in eternity –

An uneasy alliance
between contradiction
and the monkey mind:
         the absurdity of meaning –
We make our Gods
from peccadilloes and revenge
      to assuage our unbelonging –

The Stars stare mute
at our irreversible mutation –
We each arise from that same solitude
to despair or righteous indignation
to the worlds horrible suffering –

Near Montereau driven
with intense indifference
between misery and the Sun -
a lone tree halts my pain
I, alone, extinguished
Never to return again –

Happy to have been!

Author's Note

-- Camus was a companion in my youth when I was 13 and spoke to my silence and solitude then -- the expository piece 'the first man: more like a historical snippet for blog radio as a way of re-introducing him to me -- an accessible piece if not Poetry proper -- I had fun re-reading him --

Reviews

[Blackbirdsong]

Jerry, this is just wonderful, lush writing. As always there are many layers to your work. You create worlds with your words and they are gorgeous and divine. I really love the word pictures you paint and the thoughts behind each one.

This line will haunt me for a long time - "we are all strangers to eternity" for it is true and something that we all bound to discover someday.

[Vanessa Whiteley]

the crescent moon falling into the ocean
to the windy howls of night �

mmm you do like this image.

[Donald Meikle]

Puts meaning to present tense and individualism's joy in it

[R J Askew]

ach, when I think about it it is all utterly pointless and we are all stuck in condemned cells of one kind or another. the strangers in eternity is the line for me. I know life is a peculiar experience...having this mind cursed with knowledge of its own end. I don't care any more about it though. as none of it matters. i'm actually cheered by such a realisation because it releases the indivdual from hope, the great deceiver. realising one is dead would come as quite a trip though!

[Mr. Deft Diction]

This is actually a poem that needs no review.

Classic in it's shape. Nostalgic in it's reference(s) (Camus). This poem is definitely....definitely both parts tragic and beautiful.

I had fun reading it.

[Phibby Venable]

excellent!!!

[Bubo]

Having never read Camus I now feel I have missed out...........stunning piece,

We each arise from that same solitude
to despair or righteous indignation
to the worlds horrible suffering �

Yes, we do, well must of us.............strongly written and alot of power in this message.
But happy to have been! Wonderful, we all leave our mark in this world.

[Just Manoosh]

This piece is quite simple beautiful.... your words, the flow, the content are as delicate as silk. Reading this was such a calming way to start to start the day, I am very glad Blue Bard shared this with me.

My favourite stanza is:

The Stars stare mute
at our irreversible mutation �
We each arise from that same solitude
to despair or righteous indignation
to the worlds horrible suffering �

Mx

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

I should read Camus .. i have never.
Your poem makes me feel sad as if we all suffer from indifference ..
I enjoyed it and am going to check out your old companion.

Chloe
xoxo

[Blue Bard]

I really have no words here. This is an exquisite poem, an important poem. I too took Camus as a muse when I was in college doing my senior project on his writing. You capture that lonely sense of self that brings out existentialism at it's best. I heard all kinds of echoes of "The Stranger." yet I felt how personal this was. Mama waiting for the end, the absent (father?). This echoes with my own life in so many ways. Thanks for reading my mail friend.

[TL Boehm]

wow. usually your poetry is full of light and life...yet this one is more the austere, sterile beam of flourescense and reality - inescapable and chilled. Well done.