Thursday, May 05, 2005

Love, pro and con

I didn't pass the test so I am writing poetry without a license. Its a great excuse to skip the careful explanations and leap over the thorny parts.

The sociobiologists have logic to fit all of this
As if their years of study actually matter.
In a minute some he sees some she with flat tummy and slender waist
And imagines he knows what bends him to make chase...
But she showed that tummy to the one she’d picked to make it fatter.
His coursing energies and rising spirits sneak the word "forever"
Into his promises and her hopes. Isn't nature clever,
And aren't we the dopes? Sans this itch, would humans be a race?
For that pulsing moment, its shadows branching across the farest future,
Is all that need be wired in our natures beyond an instinct to nurture.
Getting all the good PR, that instinct, in its guise as life long bond
May be the exception but it rules when we are fond.
All that extra forebrain abhors the direct so a layering takes place.
We court, we wed, we decorate that moment beyond all recognition.
Hiding the sweet bite at the end of a long menu, yoking our one spark,
To make it carry causes from village to dynasty, we labor in the dark.
But we are survived.
Cradling grand children, the nearest thing to permanence we shall ever taste.

When love, like a good gene, does this job, no theory's needed
What of all the hurt? Is it not as real as the feeling love's forever?
More real, most would say. For any prospective pairing, odds are high
That they be cursed by the triggering of instincts in rank asymmetry.
Then flows all hell in song or violence at love gone awry.
Misery’s from the expectation that you’d have the snuggle without the struggle.
To the lovesick a bit of advice, though it is seldom heeded:
While you measure out the spot where you will swoon,
Kick around this thought: "Self inflicted wound".

Can we square the precarious product of our infatuations
With talk of eternity that bubbles at their inaugurations?
A simple spiritual geometry convinces to my satisfaction:
The instinct is loaded for the ultimate consequences of its action.
Knowing respect for their final purpose moved all ventures that ever thrived,
Our maker lets us glimpse the horizons to be reached by our attraction.
So love, like PI, is irrational yet perfectly draws the circle of life.

Swell. Birds do it. Bees do it. With humans is there much more to it?
You may doubt our ways of love reveal some gift, external and divine
Your troubles may leave you challenged to see it all as good design.
Then strip to the being you always are come joy or come strife.
Ask. What, to the mirror, can your heart of hearts say?
Who I love and how I love them make me what I am.
Identity is a reward for having things we will never betray.
They are incomplete who like to stray
And broken beings who do not give a damn.


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