This full catastrophe living
is tough
morning catcalls of capricious longing
an abstemious journey that leaves me replete
with nothing
my mother always said
the reason why love matters
is so that we'll live life well
feel in sync,
even be lucky enough to be
touched
by an angel
yet I think
when I fall once more Into that black hole,
(in the wake of these ore-locked dreams),
I may sink to new lows and remain
frozen
in a fetal position.
Or better still, remain unborn to
start
all over again.
9 February, '12
Comments
n/c
n/c
hi Boni
"full catastrophe living" I really liked that phrase in this poem. I guess we who have been drawn into the singularity of love should count ourselves lucky indeed................stan
Thanks Stan!
I had originally penned this piece with that title, with due recognition given to it's source, I.e. Jonn Kabat-Zinn. Should you look it up as a reference on Dictionary.com or google, you'll find
him closely aligned with all things around mindfulness and Buddhism. I bought a book by him, of the same title, some years ago.
As regards the singularity of love, I am fortunately not lacking in that sphere. As I said, this piece was more a "stringing together of titles", (9 in fact!) - than an expose of 'love's labour lost" ! ;)
Thanks for the read! As I said earlier, I was most impressed with your offering for this workshop!
Regards
Nicely done
You did very well stringing these titles in your poem. "When I Fall" as your title, was well chosen, especially in the third stanza where you fall into the black hole of your mothers protective womb and where you say better have not been born.
As for me the thought of being back in the wound is inviting, but never to have been born, I shy away from. I'm glad I was born even in this world's castratrophe condition, though I can relate to many who may feel that way. I enjoyed the journey.
Thank you!
Mark for the encouraging comment - and the thought provoking title of course! ;)
Barbara - for the great inter-active workshop! Really enjoyed it!
Glad you enjoyed
Was my hope to make it more fun like.
A time old story
A time old story
told in a different way,
lived and living,
a little thought in words
with lovely sudden single
stops,
a cycle that is too short a life.
I liked this Bonni
"This full catastrophe living is tough morning catcalls of capricious longing an abstemious journey that leaves me replete
with nothing"
I trust you are not left with
nothing? L Ann.
Ann!
how lovely to hear from you! No I am certainly not left with nothing, but am instead, trying to follow your Buddihist admonition To cease to strive after happiness! ;). Like a butterfly, it must alight on one!
Thanks for stopping by!