This poem was written by Vinokur and was inspired by my colleauge SS. Thanks to both!
There is, of course, the promiscuity of flesh -
reviled or celebrated through the ages.
There is, as well, a promiscuity of the soul.
It madly, blindly, greedily grasps at life.
From this multiplicity, this frenzied fielding of efforts,
good or bad ensues:
Confusion, incompletion, frustration, sorrow, wreckage.
And, finally,
madness.
Or multi-faceted genius
steeped in knowledge, experience, wisdom.
It wins the Nobel Prize.
Is hailed, admired by all.
What determines
which it will be?
Biochemistry.
"An honest confessional, with a sprinkle of humor and opinion, of an academician/musician seeking happiness" Find me now on https://enagyginglife.wordpress.com
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7 comments:
Flesh or soul ..??
Soul. Promiscuity of the flesh is already taken care of by many many writers. This is about the oxymoronish 'promiscuity of the soul'.
Kris
Thank you for posting this, Kris.
We don't have babies yet, but we do have poems.
@ Kris ..
:) .. Yeah Flesh has been done to death and beyond .. What stings more ..?? and what ideally stings more ..??
@ Alan ..
Aren't memories together like babies too ..??
And then there's amnesia.
Mirrors current states of mind so lucidly!
Maybe the memories/babies will come back some day.
In the meantime, there are our collaborations which in a very real sense are progeny.
I would like those kids and Skippy though.
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