The More We Knew

In dank caves when fire was new

All of the light of the world

Rolled in waves off of our fingertips

Into piles of ashy remains

Of carbon that was also


a living thing


Bygone names

to match bygone tales

Venus of Wilendorff,

Voluptuous and full

She would tell us our secrets

If only she knew them too


Stories were our solace

When the sun turned her head

A blacksmith’s hammer catching just a glint,

We forged our own realities

With images

With words

With all that went unsaid


Unraveling into knitted parables

A loose thread woven into tapestries

To delight

to confuse

Oh, the more we knew

Yes. The more we knew.


On a cobblestone street

lined with the newly printed word

The West recalled her gods of yore 

White marble emerging from dark years

We remembered our secrets

Our efforts giving birth

To what we already knew


Time goes on,

As She is wont to do

A Midas decay turning kings to gold

And old things into new

This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741