EBOOK
About
Science waits for no man. Under science done proper, we no longer have man.
In a world that measures everything and believes in nothing, what happens to the soul?
Buried Voices is a bold, searching collection of poems that takes on the spiritual crisis of the modern age. Moving from the banks of the Potomac to the trenches of Ypres, from Wall Street towers to the silent forests of the Congo, these poems face an era of plastic dreams, profit-margin prayers and "man sans will."
Philosophers and prophets crowd these pages. Kant, Heidegger, Freud and Marx argue with Ecclesiastes, Daniel and the Psalms, while echoes of Eliot, Yeats and Keats haunt the margins. The poet turns a sharp, often sardonic eye on greed, war, scientism and our comfortable indifference to the suffering poor. Then he turns tender, with love poems, a bittersweet walk through a childhood hometown, and a sky painted like a Leonardo.
Underneath the noise and fury is a single, stubborn conviction: the transcendent is not dead. It is only buried, waiting to be heard.
For readers who want poetry that thinks, challenges and still dares to hope, these voices are ready to rise.
In a world that measures everything and believes in nothing, what happens to the soul?
Buried Voices is a bold, searching collection of poems that takes on the spiritual crisis of the modern age. Moving from the banks of the Potomac to the trenches of Ypres, from Wall Street towers to the silent forests of the Congo, these poems face an era of plastic dreams, profit-margin prayers and "man sans will."
Philosophers and prophets crowd these pages. Kant, Heidegger, Freud and Marx argue with Ecclesiastes, Daniel and the Psalms, while echoes of Eliot, Yeats and Keats haunt the margins. The poet turns a sharp, often sardonic eye on greed, war, scientism and our comfortable indifference to the suffering poor. Then he turns tender, with love poems, a bittersweet walk through a childhood hometown, and a sky painted like a Leonardo.
Underneath the noise and fury is a single, stubborn conviction: the transcendent is not dead. It is only buried, waiting to be heard.
For readers who want poetry that thinks, challenges and still dares to hope, these voices are ready to rise.