Fresh Hieroglyphs

Fresh Hieroglyphs

 

-Only Love, Liberty, and Meaning Are Worth the Effort-

 

I hope that anyone who reads Pilgrim Heart is moved to reject neo-Marxist beliefs about aesthetics. “Political correctness” is primarily an implement of ideological intimidation, a contrivance used by malicious hypocrites to suppress the right to think. But art should not be about anything that advances the cause of tyranny: It should be about love, and love occurs only in the lives of those who are free to think for themselves.[1]

 

When Art is About Love,

It Speaks to Us in the Language

Of Eternity, Purpose, and Meaning.

 

When It Is Not About Love,

It Speaks to Us Only in the Language

Of Envy, Resentment, and Hopelessness.

 

We should stand in awe of the things we create because once they are free of us, they are so much more compelling than the inner parvenu who thought to wear them as jewelry. Maybe they are things we had no business keeping to ourselves. They should astound us because they so confidently go their way without us �" Bolder, smarter, and more colorful than we could ever be. Therefore, let our words shimmer like fresh hieroglyphs, painted alive on the walls of an old sarcophagus. And let them not be vain images that weep of our brevity, but true portraits that reveal how every good life matters and should be remembered.

 

eDay’s Apogeef^[2]

 

U

 

Arriving Too Early

To Photograph the Birds

Or the Hamilton Fish Bridge,

I Admired a Statue of Columbus

And Looked Out Across the Hudson

 

-

 

God never sketched a setting

Quite as touching as today,

 

In which the sun

Gives out his arms

Unto a waking bay

 

Some inland birds

With sleepy eyes

Are perched

Upon a pier

 

Above the peaceful waters

As a ferry boat grows near

 

A mist still hangs about the hills,

Though tenderly it shrinks

Into the far horizon

Where the past

In silence sinks

 

God never gave

A welcoming

 

As loving as this day

 

Unto an elder of the dawn

Who passed along the way

 

He never made a kinder time,

 

A better place to be

A poet and the river's son

Then this, day’s apogee.[3]

---

[1] Again, Paris believed in objective goodness and was highly suspicious of those who believed otherwise. As he aged, he grew increasingly convinced that the progressive ideology of his day was so deeply rooted in moral relativism, that it was likely to produce the same tyranny, religious persecution, and mass murder that characterized similar political movements in Germany, Russia, and China during the twentieth century.

 

 

[2] Paris claimed that “Day’s Apogee” was the only poem he wrote in less than an hour and never significantly revised. But some readers may be surprised to learn that a book like Pilgrim Heart involves thousands of hours of labor �" thousands. That is because many creative types are “perpetually dissatisfied” with their efforts. It can be a torment for the artist because there will always be mistakes, artistic regrets, and inexplicable oversights. Moreover, any attempt by a writer to be every time consistent is blocked by his inability to be honest and consistent at the same time. To Paris, a writer’s efforts to be consistent often result in dishonesty.

 

 

[3] Paris believed that the most profound epiphanies are those whose primary characteristics are similar to dreams, in that they cannot not rightly be put into words, even though they are internalized as learned truths. To him, such “sudden understandings” are the heart of the logos (the Word of God), affirmations that verify that we are “on the right track.” He speaks to this kind of epiphany directly on Page 10, and indirectly in the poem above. Conversely, the poet believed that we are also doomed to experience other vague realizations that have only the power to dishearten us and dissuade us from our quest.

 

Paris sometimes recited some of his poems as parts of his ritualistic prayers.