Melancholia

Tonight the ghosts of the past
Swim 'round in my head like a whirlpool
A life gone by and miscast
Fallen, disregarded, and cruel.

What began with such promise and riches
On to whom dreams and ambitions were pinned
Stay on the path and in leashes
Lest you become the Other and chagrined.

The fall from high up is hard
But the writing on the wall is clear
This old life, you must discard
An illusion, sustained by the financier.

To keep these creatures of comfort
One must work day and night
Hard work, no less, must assert
Your privilege, in a society Darwinite.

Good bye, middle class home and lifestyle
Good bye, luxuries of wealth
Good bye, existence juvenile
Good bye, retirement and health

I knew what I was getting myself into
When I walked away from it all
Disappointment, difficulty, make-do
Were sure to make trouble and stall

Charity is a two-way street
In both giving and recieving
Bottom-feeder, tick, deadbeat
Liberator, clever one, always scheming

Oh Melancholia, cruel mistress
Why do you trouble me now?
To remind you of illusions dangerous
And your freedom to preserve and endow

Exile

You've built your life up

It seems so secure

But then the unexpected appears

And you crash down unsure

The ones you called friends and allies

Turn their backs in your darkest hour

They will even betray you

Drunk with newfound power

Now you must flee

Your life depends on it

Where you are going, God knows

But this current place is unfit

Finally, God guides you to a new place

You can settle and begin to rebuild

But, oh how the hate burns inside you

For the betrayers who wanted you killed

The world says karma will get them

Jesus says turn the other cheek

While the betrayers bask in their malevolent bliss

And your own faith feels so weak

But then something miraculous happens

Your utmost dependence on God brings fruit

His protection and guidance sustain you

And doubt begins to uproot

And when you encounter reminders

Of the life you'd left behind

It hurts to know you can never return

But you are also no longer blind

There are others out there like you

Pushed away or thrown out like the trash

You are an exile

And like the phoenix, you will rise again from the ash

tamtam

The Return of Tamtam

Ladies and gentlemen,

After a nearly three-year hiatus, filled with much change, growth, and challenge, I have returned to the world of blogging at long last.

To commemorate my return, I will post this poem that a friend of mine sent to me a few years ago. I believe it's called The Logical Conclusion, but I've also seen it listed as The Ass Shall Sigh Uninstructed.

When earth's last thesis is copied 

From the theses that went before, 

When idea from fact has departed 

And bare-boned factlets shall bore,

When all joy shall have fled from study 

And scholarship reign supreme; 

When truth shall "baaa" on the hill crests 

And no one shall dare to dream; 

When all the good poems have been buried 

With comment annoted in full 

And art shall bow down in homage 

To scholarship's zinc-plated bull, 

When there shall be nothing to research 

But the notes of annoted notes, 

And Baalam's ass shall inquire 

The price of imported oats; 

Then no one shall tell him the answer 

For each shall know the one fact 

That lies in the special ass-ignment 

From which he is making his tract. 

So the ass shall sigh uninstructed 

While each in his separate book 

Shall grind for the love of grinding 

And only the devil shall look. 

Against the "germanic" system of graduate study and insane specialization in the Inanities. 

-Ezra Pound