The Cave Painters
We possess art lest we perish from truth. Nietzsche
1
Extinction
Women painted the caves eons ago.They could fit in and through the narrow clefts, Their young and elders, too — the community. They handled roots and rocks day in, day out, And knew which pigment a stuff would render By grinding and wetting, drying and heating —Patience, the greatest of all gifts of earth,Enduring for a purpose higher than the self.Memory and hope on inner walls they chanced Should the species survive to care about life. 4
Sexual Dimorphism
Women and men, those who know will tell us, Divided the labors and so they prosperedIn a time when cooperation meant survival,No loners able to fend for themselvesOn the savanna of eat or be eaten.Consequences are time’s revenge on spaceAs evolution renders her bodyFlexible and small, vulnerable, weak,However, not, enduring death-like painIn her inner cave where she learns to paint. 7
Fertility
Women are the only wealth that matters:Uterus and fetus no man can mimic,No science replace without loss of beingTo changes evolution will change again … All creation secondary to sex and birth. So the walls run riot with scenes of beastsThe artists also slaughtered to devour,But, humiliated by their appetite, They atone by witness to shame and disgraceIn their awe of nature’s fertility.
Extinction
Women painted the caves eons ago.They could fit in and through the narrow clefts, Their young and elders, too — the community. They handled roots and rocks day in, day out, And knew which pigment a stuff would render By grinding and wetting, drying and heating —Patience, the greatest of all gifts of earth,Enduring for a purpose higher than the self.Memory and hope on inner walls they chanced Should the species survive to care about life. 4
Sexual Dimorphism
Women and men, those who know will tell us, Divided the labors and so they prosperedIn a time when cooperation meant survival,No loners able to fend for themselvesOn the savanna of eat or be eaten.Consequences are time’s revenge on spaceAs evolution renders her bodyFlexible and small, vulnerable, weak,However, not, enduring death-like painIn her inner cave where she learns to paint. 7
Fertility
Women are the only wealth that matters:Uterus and fetus no man can mimic,No science replace without loss of beingTo changes evolution will change again … All creation secondary to sex and birth. So the walls run riot with scenes of beastsThe artists also slaughtered to devour,But, humiliated by their appetite, They atone by witness to shame and disgraceIn their awe of nature’s fertility.
2
Prey
The women who fit explored the caves togetherFinding entrances others could work throughOr supplies could pass through for longer staysWhen they stressed the wall with red, black, and ochreIn the fitful illumination of firesThat danced crazily in the soughing windsHeavy with the cries of predators and preyBeating in their ears as their hands portrayedHunts for blood and meat to feed their bodies From beasts only art could feed to their minds. 5
The Natural Order
Women’s and children’s mix among the bonesOf slaughtered animals in cavernous pitsWhere the helpless must die so the strong may liveNo matter the life they live be constant dreadAnother is stronger who will eat everyoneHis own offspring included if it suits him —After all, women can always be madeTo drop more children for pits and bellies alike. Some though escape. They turn bone into stylusAgainst the dark to depict life before death. 8
Awe
Women and men are animals, hominids.All of our fables fail to hide this fact.We live by hypocrisy — to call that life —Tribal hatred our supreme indulgence,To feel superior to other menNo matter the cost to life or nature.Those who enter the caves aren’t gods or heroes.They’re the animals who feel that there must beBetween them and the zoömorphs some drawingThat unites humanity to transcendent awe.
Prey
The women who fit explored the caves togetherFinding entrances others could work throughOr supplies could pass through for longer staysWhen they stressed the wall with red, black, and ochreIn the fitful illumination of firesThat danced crazily in the soughing windsHeavy with the cries of predators and preyBeating in their ears as their hands portrayedHunts for blood and meat to feed their bodies From beasts only art could feed to their minds. 5
The Natural Order
Women’s and children’s mix among the bonesOf slaughtered animals in cavernous pitsWhere the helpless must die so the strong may liveNo matter the life they live be constant dreadAnother is stronger who will eat everyoneHis own offspring included if it suits him —After all, women can always be madeTo drop more children for pits and bellies alike. Some though escape. They turn bone into stylusAgainst the dark to depict life before death. 8
Awe
Women and men are animals, hominids.All of our fables fail to hide this fact.We live by hypocrisy — to call that life —Tribal hatred our supreme indulgence,To feel superior to other menNo matter the cost to life or nature.Those who enter the caves aren’t gods or heroes.They’re the animals who feel that there must beBetween them and the zoömorphs some drawingThat unites humanity to transcendent awe.
3
Blank on Blank
The women toiled like the men long and hard —Foraging, digging, washing, peeling, tasting,All the while their young in hand or in their slingsAnd the elderly where they could watch themOr even guide their zeal to lighter work.Their risk as dire as men’s, if different, perhaps,They found relief through imaginationIn visible gloom of interior cavesAs stonescapes confronted them with blank on blankAnd they learned, just so, art itself can’t be blank. 6
Bodies of Desire
Women must conceal desire in folds of careFor the young, the old, the sick, and the halt.Effacement is what men expect of themUntil it comes time to use them: void thenEvery longing repugnant to power … Submission. Or else rage, pain, and defacement.But in the other cave where they are born Among the animals, yet apart from them,Human beings celebrate their bodiesFrom the art of birth to the birth of art. By HTO - Self-photographed, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6909222 Chauvet Cave
The women toiled like the men long and hard —Foraging, digging, washing, peeling, tasting,All the while their young in hand or in their slingsAnd the elderly where they could watch themOr even guide their zeal to lighter work.Their risk as dire as men’s, if different, perhaps,They found relief through imaginationIn visible gloom of interior cavesAs stonescapes confronted them with blank on blankAnd they learned, just so, art itself can’t be blank. 6
Bodies of Desire
Women must conceal desire in folds of careFor the young, the old, the sick, and the halt.Effacement is what men expect of themUntil it comes time to use them: void thenEvery longing repugnant to power … Submission. Or else rage, pain, and defacement.But in the other cave where they are born Among the animals, yet apart from them,Human beings celebrate their bodiesFrom the art of birth to the birth of art. By HTO - Self-photographed, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6909222 Chauvet Cave