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Array
(
[sid] => 30000
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Yin-Yang Clawing (Tea and Demons)
[time] => 2003-12-23 01:52:29
[hometext] => A poem about the price of wisdom in life.
[bodytext] => Enlightenment, or something like it is coming around the corner. I’m stretching like Adam, trying desperately to reach the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel before my shoulder gives way and my arm dangles limp and useless by my side. I’ve taken to drinking tea heavily. It’s good for digestion, contains a thousand-fold more antioxidants than Jesus ever had, promotes wisdom, constitution, and puppy-like vitality, like a tablespoon of semen drawn up the spine and into the brain. Addiction to coffee is a thing to be feared. I hope I’m never in a position in life where I am compelled to drink, several times daily, a concoction whose flavor single-handed justifies the existence of taste buds in our mouths that specifically pick up “bitter”. All that one stands to gain from an addiction to coffee is premature signs of aging and hypertension. Tea, on the other hand, is self-negating in its addictive properties. It both promotes and retards aging. It is stimulant yet relaxant. And it promotes the realization of our inherent superpowers like a tablespoon of semen, once again, drawn up the spine. I learned recently, and in a vary real way, that facing one’s demons in life is no easy task. It was a little one too, merely the younger cousin of the black morass that lurks in the shadows. I didn’t even win either, I merely stalemated him, and yet, this limp will never leave me. I can’t anticipate the final epic struggle between myself and my past misdeeds going without casualty. Hell, I can’t even anticipate it without losing a little piece of my soul. Maybe after that battle’s over, I’ll be heartless enough or in love enough to write something that’s worth a damn. Either way though, both enlightenment and breakdown are getting closer. I can feel them as I claw desperately for the warmth that enlightenment has forever situated just millimeters from my fingertips, and I can feel the cold claw of dehumanization struggling equally as strongly to reach into and smother the smoldering coals of my heart. It really is a glorious equilibrium, if you want to call it that. Both of the aforementioned writhing and disfigured claws will reach their goals simultaneously, as is the nature of the universe, and in that moment, a fierce chemical reaction, like industrial strength baking soda thrown into a vat of industrial strength vinegar, will transform me into the orgasmically beautiful, psychedelic, profoundly braindead butterfly that I am meant to be. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 21 [informant] => butterat_zool [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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