Tag Archives: pains



And let's all get high striking the innocent drums... (source: goodmanlivingwell)

[And let’s all get high striking the innocent drums… (source: goodmanlivingwell)]

The skin stretched taut
It then speaks of things beyond it

The artist grabs it with both arms
With the force of pleading
Strikes it across the face
He begs the drum to speak
The drum speaks then loftily
As if of its own accord
As if it had a choice
It cries out in a tune too high
The tighter the skin is stretched
The greater the pain it suffers
The louder and finer the cries
With masochistic ecstasy

We then hear these cries and are happy
We put the dance to our feet
And pride ourselves like connoisseurs
Of musical sadism
A primal form of art
Of which
We are all artists
And we delight in pain
Whether when inflicted on us
And we dance in self-pity
Or sweet vengeful bitterness
Or when others around us suffer
And we gather round the table
To feast on the delicious degradation of others’ misfortunes
We express an unknown sort of disgust or shock
At some scandal
Oh the thrill we feel all the way
When we make drums of others

Even the innocent little kid is already being initiated into the art. (source: smithsonianmag.com)


[Even the innocent little kid is already being initiated into the art. (source: smithsonianmag.com)]

Carry your troop away
I want none of you
Don’t disturb this lonesome artist
Lounging out peacefully
On his rooftop
Where he has placed a mat
For him to lie stretched out skin-bare
Light-brown leather
Just another drum
But in the arms of a Creator
Kind and merciful unlike all these I see
And don’t you dare call me irritable
Just because I can’t dance to your sick tune.

BACKGROUND: Please, if I may very mildly say, I am not a fan of how ingeniously cruel we can be as humans when we delight in the suffering of people. Sadly, this does not exempt the seemingly nice ones at times when they have reacted in apparent horror at another’s misfortune. Meanwhile, underneath are all sorts of feelings and thoughts they would not be exactly proud of if shown clearly.
So, let none tag me along in these discussions. I’ll be sure to spoil the fun for you. Don’t worry, I won’t mind when you all turn your appetites towards the “misfit” in the comment thread, away from the true victims who need more from you than your clichéd expressions of mock shock, which seem to be ALL you would have to offer.

Falling Through Space

Cliff collapsing in Waipi'o Valley, Hawai'i du...

Falling through space.
Been on ground before now.
Know what that felt like.

One is hating
Being off the ground.
He is un-liking the uncertainty.

The other is loving
Being in the free space.
He is unafraid of the unexpected.

One is struggling
As though he could muster some strength;
Flap his arms and fly;
As though he could grab
Some busts of air,
And climb back up on them.

The other is letting go
As though he were sleeping
On a floating sofa;
As though he were lounging
Out by the bay
On a raft.

Falling through space.
Been falling for a while now.
Know how that feels like.

One is becoming increasingly apprehensive.
His condition is actually getting worse,
Because he is becoming
That anxious for too long.

He is losing his mind.
Help him.
He loses and regains consciousness
Many times over.

The other is becoming lighter.
His love for this experience
Is prolonging the fun for him.
He now doesn’t want the falling to end.

He is having the time of his life.
He is reaching out into another realm of experience.
He is trusting in another to catch him.
He is letting go.

I, the musing writer observes this:
One situation, two different men, two different experiences.
The fretting one does have just cause to worry.
On the other hand, what makes the happy one so free?

Is he just being wild and blatantly juvenile,
Suffering a mid-life crisis or being deluded?
Or, is he just trusting in someone else besides him,
A God with wide long arms to catch him?