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Poem
There seems to be a trend these days,
an obsession with novelty,
and like most bad things of this age
it is traced back to the sixties,
at least the latest form of it,
for in truth, it’s always plagued us,
I’m talking about those who jump
on the newest and latest cause.

It’s really kind of a fetish,
this whole-hog embrace of the new,
that newer is always better,
too many accept this as true.
Whether they call themselves ‘progressive,’
a term wrapped in sheer arrogance,
or whether it is just their youth
that makes them hate all before them,

the fact is they misunderstand
the role that a new idea plays,
and have long failed to realize
the value of ideas that stay.
A tradition only exists
because time has shown it too work,
and human nature doesn’t change,
so ignoring this only hurts.

We saw it with socialism,
the dawning of a ‘better age,’
one hundred million dead later,
and still some fools will sing it praise.
And how many utopians
built communities to do right,
only to collapse in squabbling,
the once peaceful cause now a plight.

And how many revolutions
in art or film or music came,
only to die off in a week,
or come out sounding much the same?
How many countless Holy Men
had proclaimed that they have ‘the way,’
only to end up starting cults,
and with fool woman have their play?

Our ancestors called us tragic,
bound up by our unchanging flaws,
and saw that human beings are
tied up with immutable laws.
The arrogance of the present,
and the surge in technology
has convinced many that they are
better than past humanity.

But the cold truth is we are not,
we’re still walking on the same trail,
and ninety-nine of a hundred
brand new ideas are bound to fail.
A new idea that’s untested,
the product of only one mind,
stands little chance against concepts
that have survived travails of time...

CONCLUDES IN PART II.
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