Atomic Atman (‘L Homme Savage)

May 3, 2008 at 6:20 am 5 comments

Dudley Claude PringleA Saga of the Soul



In your father’s house you blaspheme,
from the cradle to the grave.
… and your mother’s name you prostitute,
in the playgrounds of your youth.
… and lie and cheat and steal
for whatever convenience offers.
With careless abandon you squander parental trust –
blind to the tears in your mother’s heart,
or those that fall from your father’s love.
How callous your betrayal Atman …
in your search for self-fulfilling lust.
Like dust in the desert –
lie the remains of your stormy past –
Dry bones in brittle pastures …
your thoughtless passage cast.

— ooo O ooo —

Heedless of the chronicles and wisdom of the time,
you used the teachings of the sages
to fool the common crowd.
Their accolades and praises,
you paraded as a crown.
Charlatan, fake, deceiver …
Atman, your cavorting is the antics of a clown!
‘Though you abuse that higher learning
as a tool to gain your way …
soon forgotten theories remain untested in your hands.
… and yet, your followers are many,
for the blind will lead the blind …
… and fools will always follow,
where wise men dare not stray

… and the idols of delusion –
those golden calves your God denies –
trap you in ambition …
with greed and cruel design!
… and you gather gaudy baubles
as symbols of your style.
… and the hollow titles of your praises,
honors friend and foe alike.
… and as the mask of honest fellow,
settles easy in your eyes –
you offer hands of friendship,
then proceed to steal them blind!
Atman, you Judas of the tribe,
what have you done with pride?

— ooo O ooo —

… and the victims of your avarice
fall like chafe before the scythe,
as you trample through their suffering
heedless of their cries.
… and you reap a ravished harvest
in the conquests you pursue …
as you crush the weak and weary,
leaving scars across their lives!
… and the profits in your coffers … lie tarnished,
like their blood upon the sand.
… and the jewels of your emporium,
are the lives of those betrayed.
Tho’ you’re blind to their accusing,
your guilt has soiled your hands!

… and the wildmen all around you –
like wolves around their prey,
curse your birthright and revile your bloody name!
For you abused their labor…
and treated them as slaves.
… and the crumbs of your fulfillment –
humiliates their hunger as it falls amongst their graves.
What use are your achievements,
if the sword of your success …
destroys the source of gain?
Tread warily in broad daylight,
walk naught about at night …
for the sons of your destruction,
seek revenge for their fathers’ shame.

— ooo O ooo —

… and the horn of the hunter trumpets;
only the strong survive!
… and with the instincts of your jungle,
you answer the primordial cry;
Kill! …and the blood of the wilderness,
… and the blood of your brotherkind …
lies angry on your hands!
Yet you fear the shrinking limits
of your false and wicked world.
… and the Maya of delusion …
surrounds you in confusion,
corrupted and uncaring –
for you have lost your mind!
Atman, killer! … you destroyer of human kind!

… and the beast of lust within you,
responds to the carnal call.
as you feed the basic chakra
with virgin friends and brothers’ wives!
… and you trample in the garden
of the daughters of the moon …
whose precious petals you carelessly abuse.
All fodder for convenience,
as they fall between your thighs.
… and those rare and scented flowers …
once perfect blooms – now abandoned,
lie crushed and bruised …
where you have cast them to the floor!
Oh Atman, how is your ego torn?

— ooo O ooo —

… and you sport amongst your fellows
in the dark mansions of Gomorrah.
… and the sins of Sodom are the close companions
of your common morality!
There, easy virtue is freely squandered
with the flow of wine and lies.
… and the jesters dance and frolic,
in your court of fools and thieves.
When the shadows of night are fading,
you crawl from your indulgence –
to the home of your children
and the bed of your faithful wife.
Atman, you shame their love and innocence,
… and soil their virtuous lives!

… and you stalk the corridors of power,
in search of twisted men.
… and fix with your invention …
their services through their greed.
Is there no end to your corruption
… and the abominable need you feed?
‘Though the franchise of the system,
provides for equal law for all –
you have gained exception,
…and deception is your key.
The just and honest scorn you –
tho’ you have thwarted them …
for your gold has purchased justice
… and the foundations of it’s halls!

— ooo O ooo —

… and the opiates of plenty
saturate your senses, like rich and heady wine.
…and in the stupor of your comfort,
you’ve dulled the essence of that innocence …
once the glorious hallmark
of the pure and humble heart.
Blinded by confusion
… and haunted by delusions,
you fumble like a blind man
in the vacuum of your life.
Oh you godless Atman,
are you secure in your cocoon –
in your gilt and silken armor,
… and your soul denied its due?

… and you invade those private sanctums
of wise and holy men ..
disturbing sacred silence,
in search of immortality!
Your foolish questions – seeking answers …
for salvation from the grave.
… and then deny with your indifference,
the truth they have and gave.
Sans faith – you honor doubt …
… and crudely question truth!
… and you seek to purchase priceless freedom
with cheap substitutes of trade,
poor Atman, your coin can no more buy,
the wind and clouds and sky …
or acquire in your poverty – what is free to Everyman!

— ooo O ooo —

… and the horizons of ambition
define the limits of your prison –
in the infinite curve of life.
No matter how you struggle,
nor how loud your tortured scream …
you can only grasp the shadows
… and the shroud of fantasy.
The pale phantom of reality
remains illusive as a dream!
You curse the nights of mayhem –
… and the mid-days of your madness …
bound helpless in the barricades
of your self-created cage …
… and self-defeating rage!

… and you cry with soulless hunger
for any kind of peace –
but the echo of past laughter,
only mocks your frantic call.
… and your endless fear of dying
now grasps you in its terror,
for you chose this trap yourself …
trading soul as such for wealth!
… and you endeavor to arrange
an exchange of gold for God,
to save this callous leprosy –
from consignment to the grave.
Any price for faith, if it will buy you time …
any price for time, if it will save your soul!

— ooo O ooo —

… and careless in your laughter –
as thoughtless in your words –
you have yet to seek forgiveness,
for the actions of your deeds.
The code of life is Love!
When will you see the Light?
To free yourself from your attachment,
to the world of material greed …
you must bare the burden
of your gold and silver cross.
… and there in pain and anguish,
suspended in your grief, unclean, impure and gross …
you will see the path of Oneness,
in Duality’s open grave!

– – – FINI – – –

© Copyright: Amsterdam, The Netherlands – 1978
Regd: Los Angeles, California – 1997


Entry filed under: DC Pringle, Poetry, South African, St. Georges Home for Boys.

Europa, Europa Durban 1947

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. S.W Pringle  |  July 7, 2008 at 7:07 am

    Very clever
    A longish diatribe against all that is greedy in mankind
    and the capitalist system that indoctrinates us to be so
    But where is the good?
    I fail to see the moral, bro

  • 2. vanessa hurlimann  |  August 28, 2008 at 2:19 am

    A question
    Atman – akin to a Manta/devilfish??…of, like, or characteristic of a devil, diabolical………..or am I way off here??

  • 3. vanessa hurlimann  |  August 28, 2008 at 2:24 am

    okay – no need to answer……got it…individual soul or ego
    still – I find the Manta an interesting concept in the scope of what’s written – a diatribe…..most certainly…..nonetheless rather clever….sorry about this – just trying to understand where you’re heading with this…………….
    Picked up your link on the SGH site – had to have a look – glad you’re in the clear re the cancer!!

  • 4. D.C. Leslie-Pringle  |  August 28, 2008 at 5:30 am

    My apologies to both Stuart and vanessa form this delayed response. I was unaware that any one had visited the site.
    Blane sent me an e-mail to inform me of such.

    Stuart: Remember the ‘yin & yang’ of all things. This is the ‘yang’ … I’ve been waiting to see the ‘yin’ appear myself , for in all things, there is the Duality. I guess some works-in- progess take a lifetime … but, I can assure you … it is out there, I have yet to write it, the other half of this ‘diatribe’ that is, when I come to grips with good in myself first I guess.

    Vanessa: I see you figured that out yourself. Atman (pronounced; Aat-mann) from Sanscrit – the metaphysical self … (holy or spiritual self if you will). Atomic being the physical (atom) self. Light and Dark – The Duality.

    Anyway, glad to see you’re still around. You’ve been very silent on the ‘boys’ blog of late. I think it’s time to offer up some more of your writings.

  • 5. vanessa hurlimann  |  August 28, 2008 at 3:13 pm

    Have been reading the SGH site with interest, an unfolding an unravelling..and an unburdening – it’s quite a cathartic tool that Blane’s set up…………….have also been writing; but not relevant to the site really.
    Thanks for the response – look forward to your completed work – it’s already started me thinks……………


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed


  • 249,783



Onlangse Lesers

View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile View My Profile


May 2008
« Apr   Jun »

%d bloggers like this: