Monday, December 12, 2011

Jack Fir Misery (Minstrel Mondays)

In today's Minstrel Monday selection, we have a philosophical poem I wrote when I was twenty-one.  Take whatever you can from it.

It seems that everything
is coming down around me,
and nothing stops
the burning of my eyes,
or the harsh sting
of the wind-blown jack fir
as it tumbles down about me.

The smack and the crack
of a splintering timber,
forced to the ground
by nature's breath.
I stand beneath the behemoth trunk
and limbs of softwood that tumble
and remind me of the pains in my heart.

Life's not easy for me,
as I see our children
reeling with pain.
Yet death never comes,
for it pleases me so.
This life may be pain,
but better we go on
to make it a pleasure for others,
if we cannot partake of it ourselves.

Life never tastes bitter
to a fallen man.
And the trees still make sounds
even though no one's around,
because there's always air
to resonate vibrionic waves.

Only man could be
so arrogant to believe
that sound only exists
when he hears it.
Just as feelings only exist
if the memory persists
and he can feel them.
That is why children don't understand.
They've never felt the pain.
So is it so wrong
that I go on
protecting them now?
Should I stop to care?

Those who don't know pain,
don't know they're not feeling it.
If ignorance is bliss
let the idiots shine
if only for their fleeting moment
amongst the brilliant sky.

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