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For The Guitar--with Deep Chords

By MARGARET LARKIN

Nikral worshipped all sad and beautiful things,

And this lavender dusk was a beautiful dusk, and sad,
Wherefore she made a shrine.

She herself was the altar,

The holy elements, lovely and sad, in her eyes.
Only there was no incense, there were no candles,
Nor any intoned replies.

Come, love, out of the purple silence,
Whispering a holy name,

Come, love, suppliant to the altar,
Carrying flame!

You And I Are Gay Now

By JOHN MCCLURE

You and I are gay now

Who have learned enough
Of the mad and beautiful
Mockery of love.

Time's a salve for old sores.
Seasons requite

All the foolish anguish

And the lost delight.

Love is always beautiful,

But is seldom true,

And we have eaten wheatbread

Since we dreamed of dew.

M

The Energetics of Poetry

By GEORG KAISER

AN represents the most intensive his body and yet what extensive enterform of energy. That man has prises he undertakes! We know that tobeen able to raise himself to a position day we are merely the high-potential of such power throughout the Universe conduit pregnant with the spark which is an emphatic indication of the rank to which he is predestined. A destiny shall blaze forth only in some distant which may be summed up in the for- future. And though we are still wrapt mula: to enforce his Will and Himself in doubt as to this distant event, we against all obstacles which may be im- continue to persist and to stand fast posed in his path. without fear or trembling. We do not divert or misappropriate even a particle of this energy. We are concerned perhaps with an unconscious self-sacrificial sense that it be compressed and concentrated, for we feel that upon this the ultimate achievement depends.

Man is on the way! The distances which he has already covered must remain incommensurable to us-as incommensurable as the road which still stretches before him. It is sufficient to-day for us to know that this movement towards the future is taking place. It gives us occasion to occupy ourselves with conditions and with possibilities. I regard such an occupation or rather such a preoccupation as this as a matter of imperative necessity. And chiefly for one reason which most emphatically reveals the significance of this epoch.

Humanity of our day must resolve upon this: to regard itself as a state of transition between mankind that is and mankind that is to come. In attempting to defend or justify his present Man acts a pusillanimous rôle. The hungry desire which each of us formulates in his bosom :-I am living now, and therefore this life of mine must be final and complete in all its scope and compassis tinged with the contemptible. Man is really much more courageous than his parasites and camp-followers would have him believe. From his very first day of life onward he carries death in

What does the human being in our day represent? He is still lacking in any proper co-ordination of his powers. That miracle-the versatility, the manifoldedness of his abilities, is misinterpreted, and so he succumbs to the temptation of training a single faculty or ability. In other words he becomes a specialist.

Man is perfect from the very beginning. He is, so to speak, a finished product from the very moment of birth. The limitations to which he finally suc cumbs, are not part of his inner nature,

no, these limitations and inhibitions are imposed upon him from without, as a result of the distorted forms to which his destiny is subjected. We are all too well aware that today a man may live only by cultivating one of the numerous possibilities inherent in his nature. We cast no aspersions upon

this brotherman, subject him to no mockery and do not pass him lightly by. Every man is part of our environment -unconditionally and of necessity. The imperative of time decrees his fate; it may misshape him, but it cannot crush him to the point of annihilation. Every phase of transition bears within it the command of eternity. And this confers immortality. For all things that have a goal preserve themselves. The sum of energy suffers no atmospheric depression or lightning stroke.

For

Man emerges from this epoch, an epoch which is unconscious of the fact that all its powers may be concentrated in one gigantic effort-and strides onward to an epoch in which our chaotic dismemberment and futile activities will seem like some impossible fable. Upon what must we base our knowledge of potential man? I think I have found the solution. It lies in this one word: Poetry. For I am of the opinion that all-inclusive force which is one of the faculties peculiar to man, finds for the time being its most convincing expression in the processes of poetry. here we find the proofs of man's prestabilized consummation, something which he must raise from the realm of the unconscious to that of the conscious. What path does he pursue? What is his task? And what is his goal? Poetry in its larger sense comprehends the province of all the faculties and subjects them to the law of a single mode of operation. The idea emerges triumphantly out of the fortuitousness of appearances and the chance element of the subject matter. And this idea is in it. self a rounded whole, a world, something present yet timeless, something present, yet eternal. Comprehended by

men and comprehensible in fact only to them. Man is the Whole, ever here and ever there, ever distant and ever nearever existent, ever present. Poetry proclaims Man the Synthesis!

I am convinced and I have emerged still more convinced after being subjected to the shock of many contrary opinions, that man will overcome the economic difficulties which now curtail and confine him. I do not underestimate this task, but I am determined not to regard it as inachievable. There are too many proofs of man's skill and cleverness in adapting himself. We have the eight hours working day—we shall be able to do with still fewer hours in spite of an augmented standard of comfort, an internal progress will

always keep step with the outer progress. Ideas have an irrepressible urge to represent themselves. For that which is not visible is not there. It is through man that the idea pushes its way towards representation. Man is its creator, man gives it its form and its face and the final clarification can be won only in this way. Let us not forget Plato who has given a living form to his dialogues, nor Nietzsche who bids the sharply plastic figure of Zarathustra become vocal, nor Christ who gave the Son of Man undying vitality.

Energy as a means unites ideas and vitality into a unity. Vitality and the idea are said to be unconquerable, postulated and heterogeneous entities. But this is untrue: There is nothing without man: Merely because man exists all things must be of man and for man. How the achievements of man based upon his own peculiar energy and maximum effort, how this combination of vitality and idea may be realized

that will be a problem to concern the generations which come after us and whose forbears we must be in humility and in sacrifice.

We need not fear of incurring the danger of following a phantom or some false instinct. Man is not piece-work, but a well-planned whole as even the ancient myth recognizes. And yet it is astonishing how far we have left the Greeks behind in this matter. Their experiments with man content themselves with the superficial. Marsyas succumbs to Apollo. Marsyas blew the flute and puffed up his cheeks to globes which destroyed the symmetry of the human countenance. countenance. Apollo on Apollo on the other hand played the lyre with a magnificent grace More than this, the Greeks found the vision of a sculptor revolting, for he annihilated his work in dust and in the sweat of his brow.

How wonderfully subtly the Greeks sensed the incongruity of the overoccupied man, the man who exercises one action in a measure and proportion exceeding that ordained from the beginning. Man is a unit. That which before our time was imperfectly divined, today we know it, as we know a law and the validity of a law. It is not only by his externals that a human being, whose humanity is based solely upon one activity, provokes an unpleasant impression, there is also an inner distortion which is no less painful than the outer. Man may also sin against himself in thought alone. For every excess of one faculty which develops itself at the expense of the neglect of the others, is a mortal sin. It is directed against the universality of man and mutilates universality into specialty. Man is not hand or foot or eye or head alone. Man

is compact of head and heart and brain and blood. He who only thinks and writes poetry commits a wrong against the Totality, precisely as does the workman, who by a pressure of one of his limbs, operates a part of his machine.

The most dangerous onslaughts against Totality have hitherto been undertaken by the intellectualsthough we must not forget that they have been exposed to the fiercest temptations. A prophetic glance into what is in process of Being and of Coming characterizes the intellectual. It is difficult for him to refrain from describing much, even though he may not have seen much clearly. And the thing which is thus darkly seen is then given the name of philosophy or literature. So will our present be judged of the future. To us it is only given to see this present and to bring the signs within us into relation to the Infinite.

Poetics are one form of energy, perhaps the most powerful which we possess today. Having once established this, we may proceed to build up our new system of esthetics. The system which has hitherto prevailed, compact of fear and pity as to the effect of the poetic message, no longer exists so far as we pioneers are concerned. We base our judgments only upon the strength or the weakness of the energies proceeding from the creator of the poem. And once more we find a parallel with the ancient Greeks. To them destiny was the supreme power. It suffered no single exception, it destroys the continuity of the whole. The man who summons all his strength for one deed which is not based upon a perfect consummation is given over to destruction. The whole of the Idea was disturbed.

What do our motions, profoundly perturbed by the drama, convey to us-to us whose souls have always been full of this somber knowledge? Thus poetry inscribes only negation - warnings against advances in one direction only -a destruction of the smooth sphere of the human into a hunchlike protuberance-deformity! The lesson which we are taught at the close of all great poetry is that all that is tainted with hypertrophy finally seeks its own compensation. We have seen that man's position when it is dependent upon a single activity, becomes a prison of degeneration, of error and disease and that the only way to liberation is the way of universality.

Let us consider everything that man does an operation of energy. Energy is the eternal wonder in man and this wonder has been converted into blood out of which he creates; creating even himself. Man is that reality which renders all things possible including himself. He draws eternity into the present and lets the present open upon eternity. This goal is achievable. And it will be achieved. This is certain: that the Whole of his faculties will develop itself

liberated from the specialized instances of his occupation. Talents and patents disappear-all things are open to all men and the specialty merges into the totality. Economics and hygiene prepare him for his task. He goes on his way with that grim energy which has already liberated him from slavery. He will not suffer being delayed. The progress of the individual will be overtaken by that of the generality. The mountain becomes a plain. Fit for the homes of all men. And it is then that energy will operate terrestrially and with sublimation. Man has arrived!

It is not so important that man should be able to do something as that he should be recognized. Man that is recognized becomes at last a vision-and this in turn ceases to be vision and becomes a reality. And I say this thing with the mouth of a man, a mouth which like all men's bears in it only a human tongue, I believe in this man to come and belief is enough. For once we have belief we have the building of the cathedral whose roots are anchored deep in the earth and whose finials exfloriate in the heavens.

Duet

By JOHN MC CLURE

"Fetch us no airy rhymes.

We are god-fearing men. Bring us the keys of life."

"Abracadabra, then."

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