Birds suffer silence
and steely dark eyed after
the fatal world bite
and me, I snivel
at far less even while I
watch them - instruction
in how to die well
of the cruelty handed
out so freely here.
lots going on for me in this poem and the accompanying image. thanks for the opportunities for ongoing reflection... so much of what you write calls me back again and again.
I am glad to see some of my old friends don't flinch. For me this kind of thing is at the core of spirituality - that life eats life is a constant and hard to see free of cruelty when you keep all points of view. If you are like me, then the idea of an inner life in all living beings means that most prey object in similar ways to their own demise. It is obvious that death is required, but it is usually coupled with mortal agony and it is questionable that mortal agony is required.
Anyway I think the issue a matter for acceptance of sorts but I must also accept the repugnance I feel for the way things are set up. This is true even though I willingly permit the dismantling of plants and animals and take great pleasure in eating. Hypocrisy is almost constant in this area, at least for me.
Don't you love it when the tension is irresolvable? :P
Some years ago my poetry took on a mythic flavor and I became a character in my own poems, a mage, "the man of the Northern Wall". This apellation is not completely fictional. My middle name is Noordwal, a Dutch term for north wall, though in current Dutch it mainly means north bank as in riverbank. I was told that an ancestor, a Portugese Jew escaping the Inquisition, settled in a small Dutch town and took this name from where he settled, near the north wall of the town. I have thought for a long time that -wal meant wall, think my mother told me that. A linguist might say that my usage is no longer common, is an older usage, but then the Inquisition happened in Portugal a few centuries ago, right around the time the Moors lost control of the Iberian Peninsula and the Jews lost the modest protection given them by Islam. Now I write as this mage, my poetry persona.
Mechanical designer for industry, now retired, once a Bay Area Hippie, went undercover in 1972, I've been writing poetry for years.
Contact: 3topper45@gmail.com
lots going on for me in this poem and the accompanying image. thanks for the opportunities for ongoing reflection... so much of what you write calls me back again and again.
ReplyDeleteThis one speaks to me, too.,
ReplyDeleteI am glad to see some of my old friends don't flinch. For me this kind of thing is at the core of spirituality - that life eats life is a constant and hard to see free of cruelty when you keep all points of view. If you are like me, then the idea of an inner life in all living beings means that most prey object in similar ways to their own demise. It is obvious that death is required, but it is usually coupled with mortal agony and it is questionable that mortal agony is required.
ReplyDeleteAnyway I think the issue a matter for acceptance of sorts but I must also accept the repugnance I feel for the way things are set up. This is true even though I willingly permit the dismantling of plants and animals and take great pleasure in eating. Hypocrisy is almost constant in this area, at least for me.
Don't you love it when the tension is irresolvable? :P