From the Voice of a Machine to the Quality of Being

I was fascinated to read recently how a central part of Native American culture is to exercise care and economy in their use of language. This is a poem on that theme.

From the Voice of a Machine to the Quality of Being

"We must sharpen our barbs
to the point where it really hurts"
came from the voice of a machine
which displays a lack of quality,
no quality of feeling,
no quality of thinking,
no quality of any kind.

The energy of hostility and contempt
touches whatever labels
the machine attaches itself to
through whatever hollow victories
its violence may find.

The Native American likened words
to beautiful stones
which when lifted
should be viewed from every side
before their use
and that tossing them around
unconsciously
without thinking or respect
needlessly hurts
irrespective of the artificial pride
that claims the wounded
got their just deserts.

He was no fool.
The fool is he
who is dismissive of
honour and nobility
and whose mechanistic logic
claims as palpably false
the Great Spirit of
a culture and mythology
he does not understand.
I repeat,
the Great Spirit of
a culture and mythology
he does not understand.
He is stupid who is clever
when the cleverness
is blind to seeing
the quality of Being.

© Geoff Davis