Copyright © 2009 Ernest Bloom.
When surfing volatile time's tricky tides,
One often wants for the luxury of delaying
For the wave one desires. But overleaping
Self-imposed limiting visions, new worlds
Break forth continuously, on the left and right,
Green and foamy, from over remote and
Unheralded horizons, forever abandoning
Yesterday's yawling countersurges in bitter
And insensible embattled retreat.
I like how you describe time as volatile, unpredictable, almost chaotic, like the capricious sea. This striking comparisons makes it easier to imagine the frustration, bitterness and longing permeating the speaker's psyche. Somehow, I couldn't help but think of Einstein from start to beginning.
ReplyDeletelast night i was watching some joseph campbell lectures, and one thing he talks about is the right hand way of conventional socialization and life-goals v. the left hand way of rejecting society and blazing your own dangerous way through untracked land. true enough. it's hard to carve out new roads in the wilderness, but it's harder still to entice the conventional to go off-roading. this piece again addresses the brilliant, furious sparking where past impacts the futures and the futile convention of rejecting new futures and dreams even when the past is devouring you, although those committed to the right hand way do this sort of thing all the time. waiting for perfection is a sure-fire way to burn your candle down in the land of the dead when life's a jazz performance and every instant offers the possibilitiy of world-shaking change, from which the world-beaten conventional every instant bolt in alarm.
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