Fun Times

It’s at that point -
when trust in fellow man withers,
that the soul retires and quietly dies.
It is no longer lost.

Beyond the feint glimmer of hope –
a realisation that all is not good,
that human nature is intrinsically evil.
Society is not to blame.

We are all products of our choices –
some, however, can find a means
to change to a more nirvanic ideal.
The majority will perish.

A goal to make the world happy -
sadly forfeited when the toughest
decision of all is made.
The choice to say enough’s enough.

Small Business (A Late 1990's Analogy)

At times we take must count of all that we are
- and are not. An audit if you like -
of our life's achievements and failures to date. And -
we realise then, in our subjective look at ourselves,
that we do not have as much as we once believed.

We are told that it is not the tangible which
should hold interest our heart, as these things
can so easily be removed from our lives. So, in a
determined effort to control our destiny, we invest
our time and energies in those we care for.
Our friends - our family - ourselves.

As we tally the columns, the realisation of a
net loss becomes clear. Pain, sorrow, remorse,
mistrust and anger are the bottom line. Our
friends cannot suffer as a consequence - they
never went guarantor for our life. The family
should cannot be expected to bail out the
bankrupt soul.

It's then that confidence is lost in the principle -
we see a businessman running a failing business. The
real world has answers for such eventualities.
In the surreal world of the intangible - the world
in which we are told to invest so heavily -
there are no such trategies. We can fail and we are
permitted (encouraged?) to continue failing - ad
infinitum till the day we decide it's time.

Foreclosure.

Another day - Felo-de-se

It's on life-support now -
not willing to continue;
not seeing hope;
no longer feeling warmth.

The body, like
a cruel iron lung
forces it to persist.
Day in. Day out

When a body is dying
they gather around.
"Let him go - it will
be a happy release".
The machine is turned
off.

They'll cry
They'll comfort
They'll smile
They'll continue

But, here, the soul
suffers. The body
cloaking its every
spasm. They see
only the man - the
cancered soul
is deeply hidden.

"The cowards way out",
they scream angrily.

They cry
They hurt
They rile
They halt.

And they fail to see. It's
just the soul being taken
off life support. It's
now at peace. A happy
release.

The Loneliest Departure Lounge

He listened, bemused, to the gifted orator
on the TV - "Dream" he said, "dream
and enjoy all that life has to offer the children
of the world". But what, he pondered,
would this orator say if he knew that all he
dreamed about was dying?

See - he sits in a departure lounge,
not unlike one in a small airport.
There is a handful of people here. The
passengers know not where they are going,
and yet, the know where they need to be.

They wait patiently for their plane, dreaming
of their intended destination. All aircraft lead
to the same place but their forms take many
shapes. Some are huge gas-belching monsters -
offering a slow, turbulence-free ride. Others
are no smaller than a plastic jar but will get
there just as quick. Some folks don't like planes
so they will abandon this airport and take the
bullet train instead.

He casts his eyes around the terminal. There are
a couple of friends and relatives crying from the
distant realm of the airport doors. They've come
to wave the travellers off - knowing most of them
will never return home. Some of our travellers
haven't even let their associates know of their travel
plans. This is their choice.

Non-travellers don't understand why these folks are
leaving - so many will call them "weak" for wanting
to leave. Most will never understand. If only they
knew how hard it is to get on the plane - then they'd
understand, too, why there are still people sitting
in the lounge. Even the folks who want to fly, at times,
have a fear of flying.

-DJ!
©1998

Last update: Sunday, June 20, 1999 21:21