This poem was inspired, in part, by Mercuria's poem, "In Death." It's not exactly a response, more of a partial agreement, and something of an expansion on the theme. Please read/review, if you would be so kind.
(added 12/18/02) After reading K2 and Kate's reviews, and talking for a while with my editor/girlfriend, I found that some adjustments were probably in order. This poem wasn't meant to be accusatory; or, rather, it was intended to be self-accusatory. It might have helped to have mentioned that many times in my poetry I use the word "you" when referring to myself. The point being, it was meant as a warning to myself, and to be through my own failings an example of what not to do.
This update changes all the instances of "you" to "us","we", etc. I've also eliminated the word "sin", which my girlfriend points out has many negative connotations (such as condemnation) that I did not intend. The line about drones in a hive is not intended to be a bad thing either: it's only to say that each of us sees the world through our own (limited) experience.
____________________________________________________________________
"Thoughts On a Canvas"
Canvas
Emptiness
A colourless
faith --
we, in heartfelt sympathy
begin with lines to
deface this white
void
paradox
With gutless smears we sooth
For it's nothing to do with purity
And everthing with attitude.
Beware when we ignore our failures,
for the world will see the time
when our hearts are opened up to read
the wanderings of our minds.
And if we find our wishes
fulfilled in what we think
and if we ignore the casualties
and propogate belief
and if we let our world conform
and if we abstain to care
for a universe that would refuse
a goddess' compare
We must know this:
Our stubborness
suspends our own belief,
clings to what we know is false,
refuses our release
and if we deceive ourselves
while finding life
we're as much at fault (or more)
as he who decieves
for oblivion
(for to us, it should matter
in the end).
Everyone finds a fantasy
We must break
ours down to find
illusions waiting
break them, too
Until the canvas,
covered,
reminds
We're all drones with finite lives
And all the world's a hive
(added 12/18/02) After reading K2 and Kate's reviews, and talking for a while with my editor/girlfriend, I found that some adjustments were probably in order. This poem wasn't meant to be accusatory; or, rather, it was intended to be self-accusatory. It might have helped to have mentioned that many times in my poetry I use the word "you" when referring to myself. The point being, it was meant as a warning to myself, and to be through my own failings an example of what not to do.
This update changes all the instances of "you" to "us","we", etc. I've also eliminated the word "sin", which my girlfriend points out has many negative connotations (such as condemnation) that I did not intend. The line about drones in a hive is not intended to be a bad thing either: it's only to say that each of us sees the world through our own (limited) experience.
____________________________________________________________________
"Thoughts On a Canvas"
Canvas
Emptiness
A colourless
faith --
we, in heartfelt sympathy
begin with lines to
deface this white
void
paradox
With gutless smears we sooth
For it's nothing to do with purity
And everthing with attitude.
Beware when we ignore our failures,
for the world will see the time
when our hearts are opened up to read
the wanderings of our minds.
And if we find our wishes
fulfilled in what we think
and if we ignore the casualties
and propogate belief
and if we let our world conform
and if we abstain to care
for a universe that would refuse
a goddess' compare
We must know this:
Our stubborness
suspends our own belief,
clings to what we know is false,
refuses our release
and if we deceive ourselves
while finding life
we're as much at fault (or more)
as he who decieves
for oblivion
(for to us, it should matter
in the end).
Everyone finds a fantasy
We must break
ours down to find
illusions waiting
break them, too
Until the canvas,
covered,
reminds
We're all drones with finite lives
And all the world's a hive