Tug of War

“All gods are homemade, and it is we who pull their strings, and so, give them the power to pull ours.” – Aldous Huxley



a-lunatic-mind

Sinking below the water’s horizon, I’m afraid to reach out to the hands offered to help. God, I do need the help, but at what cost? I’m just trying to survive, to pull my head above this liquid grave and take one more life giving breath. Can anyone just pull me up? It’s my fault I’m here, but don’t put me in the chains of your plans for me because you have it all figured out and for now, your feet on are the boat. The waters will boil, swallowing the best laid plans, resisting the strongest efforts, and here is where everyone falls. Your strong now, but I know the sense of control that comes when you realize that I, your desire, will be held near you by your assistance out of my tragedy. Your hand is what I need, and not just yours, but the effort of a village. Tug of war, I’m grabbed from two directions, pulling me not where it’s best for me, but where the hands want me to go. Just breathing is no comfort when, after I breathe, I find myself immersed in the murky water of slavery to a strange will. Sweet Jesus, my heart is overwhelmed and I cannot feel, I can only gasp, hoping that what ever hand I blindly slap the water and find, is one that will release me when I’m aboard.

Love Again 2 –

I believe this fits the general theme of my blog and so I give you this poem, written by Philip Larkin. Enjoy.

Thomas Hawk

“Love again: wanking at ten past three
(Surely he’s taken her home by now?),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing how
To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
And the usual pain, like dysentery.

Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt,
Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare,
And me supposed to be ignorant,
Or find it funny, or not to care,
Even … but why put it into words?
Isolate rather this element

That spreads through other lives like a tree
And sways them on in a sort of sense
And say why it never worked for me.
Something to do with violence
A long way back, and wrong rewards,
And arrogant eternity.”

Utility of Love

We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being. As a result, men are valued not for what they are but for what they do or what they have – for their usefulness.” –Thomas Merton

 Utility defines our passions embrace


Only together can we both go far

Industry becomes the nature of us


Survival is our language of love

Laying down sentiment for reality

Struggle unites that which is contrary


Bound by an instinct for air

Two are better than one when drowning,

From these turbid waters we will escape

Utility of Love

We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being. As a result, men are valued not for what they are but for what they do or what they have – for their usefulness.” –Thomas Merton

 Utility defines our passions embrace


Only together can we both go far

Industry becomes the nature of us


Survival is our language of love

Laying down sentiment for reality

Struggle unites that which is contrary


Bound by an instinct for air

Two are better than one when drowning,

From these turbid waters we will escape