Human Towers Poem by Daniel Y.
Human Towers
Cutting into the heavenly ceiling, the crown of humanity towers.
Soft hands, cloud-gloved, whisper to the wind.
The ruins lie below them,
buried and forgotten.
Every summer freezes.
Every flower wilts.
Every tower falls.
The sum total of Homo sapiens
amounts to scrambling on one another’s shoulders;
breaking through the bodies, to get a glimpse of the sun.
What does this blind wrestling yield?
What
does
this
blind
wrestling
yield
?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/7/2024 4:35:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This poem should be in an anthology of contemporary poems. I mean it. There's not one false step, and the poem is just as long as it should be. Two lines really caught me 1) Soft hands, cloud-gloved, whisper to the wind. That is breathtaking it's so beautiful - I expect your city morning poem will have this quality.2) Scrambling on another's shoulders...to get a glimpse of the sun. This line states the theme vividly and concisely. And the repetition of the last line as a vertical line is inspired. This is what I think: What Shelley's great sonnet Ozymandias meant to people of Napoleon's Age this poem means for our modern age. YES! 87781