Submitted by Will Stenberg
This world remains unconquered. Full of ruin,
yes, but for each holy place turned desolation
desolation is paid back: a heart emptied and undone.
A race of empty-hearted men against the world,
its ruins haunted with ghosts
unquickened but quick to repay?
This is a war that can’t be won in a day,
or won at all. So they say.
I merely observe for a moment, then go my way,
being not too attached to the world.
I love it, of course. I love all things that will kill me.
And with a lover’s hand I caress this robber earth.
Nothing here fulfilled me, nor ever truly unmade me.
But I chose not to take up arms against the world.
About the Poet
Will Stenberg is a writer, musician, bartender and boxer who grew up in the deep wilds of Northern California and resides now in Portland, Oregon.
Painting Credit: Gradiva Finds the Anthropomorphic Ruins – Salvador Dali