Over the past weeks, I have had a peace, a happiness.
Leaping through the night streets like a cracked out ninja swinging my wooden stick, laughing, smiling, dancing, and relaxing.
It comes
not as an arduous trek across a desert,
not as the slow epiphany of a sunrise,
not through her hand on my back,
not from the depths of a dark booze filled well,
Leaping through the night streets like a cracked out ninja swinging my wooden stick, laughing, smiling, dancing, and relaxing.
It comes
not as an arduous trek across a desert,
not as the slow epiphany of a sunrise,
not through her hand on my back,
not from the depths of a dark booze filled well,
not during in a moment of clarity with blood on my lip,
not through a canvass that fills me with pride,
not through work,
but like that beautiful girl, the tease, who enflames my chest and loins, and fills me with hope, but never
promises consistency, dependency, or duration.
not through a canvass that fills me with pride,
not through work,
but like that beautiful girl, the tease, who enflames my chest and loins, and fills me with hope, but never
promises consistency, dependency, or duration.
6 comments:
But you must listen now to what I say—a god himself will be reminding you.
First of all, you'll run into the Sirens.
They seduce all men who come across them.
Whoever unwittingly goes past them
and hears the Sirens' call never gets back.
--Homer
http://records.viu.ca/~Johnstoi/homer/odyssey12.htm
The point is happiness is like a flirt. Not girls. I've tossed girls to the curb easier than a burnt out cancer stick butt. The point is, as Toni Morrison says, “How exquisitely human is the wish for permanent happiness, and how thin imagination becomes trying to achieve it.”
Girls aren’t the problem. The problem is the idea that an epiphany, a love, a job, or anything will provide peace and joy.
of course, you could mean the sirens as a metaphore, but I just don't typically think people imagine happiness as a seductive destroyer of men. If it is symbolic, then it makes my point even darker.
"They left at once and met the Lotus-eaters, who had no thought of killing my companions, but gave them lotus plants to eat, whose fruit, sweet as honey, made any man who sampled it lose his desire to ever journey home or bring back word to us—they wished to stay, to remain among the Lotus-eaters, feeding on the plant, eager to forget about their homeward voyage."
Were these men happy?
I take your point, about joy being like a flirt, "that beautiful girl, the tease, who . . . / fills me with hope, but never / promises consistency, dependency, or duration." It reminded me of how Homer describes man's desire through the metaphors of the Sirens and the Lotus-eaters because it was poetry.
I did forget about the lotus eaters. That's a good call. I think I reacted sharply about the sirens because I hate women.
Post a Comment