VII. “You shall not steal."
To steal awhile from God is nothing new
to man’s penchant for cleptomanic vices.
The danger lies in understanding who
is victimized, since man must pay the prices
for pointless reveries on bypath routes.
And where I choose to be or not to be
Occasions many serious conflictions
when Satan introduces, vis-à-vis
byway meadows of adverse convictions,
half circled cul-de-sacs for destitutes.
To feel a smile of arrogant pretension
devoid of all appeal in its intent
to steal my candor, and my bold contention,
breeds larceny beyond my cold consent;
and, further, breeds desires revenge imputes.
Though granted Moses’ option to refute
His incantations carved on Sinai,
few sages in our service will dispute
His vengeance on court jesters who deny
God’s presence in all civil institutes.
“In vain we call old notions fudge
and bend our conscience to our dealing;
The Ten Commandments will not budge,
and stealing will continue stealing.”
Incautious, in not quite insane
to postscript on another’s fame;
and yet, may I add one refrain
to Lowell’s view in PL’s * name?
For gain we all hold notions; nudge,
then send our consciousness of feeling,
deep-shrouded in some cryptic grudge,
beyond all rational appealing.
*Poetic License
| The Curator’s Notes: This poem on the Seventh Commandment (“Thou shalt not steal”) operates on multiple levels: literal theft, stealing time from God, plagiarism/intellectual theft, and, most strikingly, the poet actually steals (borrows/adapts) from James Russell Lowell’s poetry while acknowledging the theft and justifying it through “Poetic License.” The form mirrors the content. This is the most innovative poem in the collection. The poet literally enacts theft (through “borrowing”) within a poem condemning theft, while simultaneously acknowledging and justifying the theft, then uses it to demonstrate how we all rationalize our stealing. It’s intellectually playful in a way the Fifth Commandment poem (deadly serious, no resolution) wasn’t. |