Saturday, May 17, 2008

Piece of Mind: Il Penseroso-lved




Oftentimes while on a midnight stroll the scenery of night plays out like a lonely piano in a moonlit ballroom as each heavy note gently tears away at the heart -- surely shredding it in halves.

A scene: viewed over and over through the mind's memory
the questioning begins and so it is said: : "It isn't supposed to be this way"

As often as it is, passion overcomes the logic of reason and the inquisitive battle of the mind is held upon a grayed field of interchanging, intermixing, light and darkness.

What solemn sanctuary awaits those who fall into darkness visible --
What grudgingly painful step up the mountain will be made less by that of grace?

Your chaotic asylum holds refuge for the nobler mind --
for at the lowest of our despair lies the capacity for ascension more glorious.



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This is perhaps one of my more complex poems so I wanted to attempt to explain some of it to my readers.

The title is a multiple play on phrases and such. Of course, there is the phrase "Peace of Mind", well that is definitely what I want to achieve with this poem. However, it is also a single thought I had, and thus, it becomes a "piece" of my mind that I wanted to share. The other half of the title is an homage to John Milton's poem Il Penseroso. (usually accompanied with the poem L'Allegro)His poem is about engaging in a type of melancholy but in the sense of scholarly contemplation. by adding to it, I hint that there is a type of "solving" going on in this process of "penseroso."

The first stanza is an opening in which I introduce the setting and attempt to produce an atmosphere of melancholy. These are the moments when we stop and reflect on things in life, and sometimes they aren't kind to the heart.

The second stanza, is playing off this type of inward reflection in which we usually doubt ourselves and such.

The third stanza is exactly in the middle of the poem separating the first two opening stanzas and the last pair of concluding stanzas. This is done intentionally because it is about the balance of life, such a theme is imbued within the imagery of light and darkness in a constant battlefield of grays. The "grays" indicate the complex nature of everything in which, most of the time it is neither black or white. In addition, this stanza makes not of the passion overtaking logic. This happens way too often during moments of melancholy, in which sometimes, logically, there are MANY reasons why this person shouldn't be depressed, however due to passion taking the lead, it becomes a moment of almost despair.

The last two stanzas to me are the most important of the poem because they come up with a type of resolution or acknowledgment to be made out of dire situations of the heart and mind.

"darkness visible" is another allusion to Milton. It is a funny juxtaposition of words in which darkness is SO dark that you can actually see it. In this case, I liken it to despair. So I question what kind of solomn sanctuary can you get from such darkness? Similarly, in the same stanza, I liken life as to climbing up a mountain, and with each painful step the hike becomes harder, once again I question how less can the pain be taken away by grace? essentially, grace becoming the kindness and help of others.

The answer lies within the last stanza in which a justification for a nobler mind comes out of a "chaotic asylum." In the sense that once we feel that we have hit the bottom, the place with most room is to go upwards. For at the lowest of our despair lies the capacity for ascension more glorious.

Looking out the Window


This time, I am working on a five act expostulation in which the shift goes from dialogue to monologue with each act. Make what you want out of it.



I.

person a: Why do you suppose I am here?

person b: To make rhyme and reason out of chaos


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II.

It came to me in a dream.

It often comes to me in dreams. It seeps through like rain on a warm summer night leaving pools of wishes that glisten under a jeweled moon. If only you could hear the music, such music flowing in around in physical form, it absorbs emotion and it transcends words.

As a dreamer I have to realize that we wake up eventually.

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III.

person a: What am I supposed to do?

person b: Follow your heart

person a: By leaving it open, It will hurt.

person b: Then you will learn


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IV.

I'd like to understand you, if I only could.

I look outside and watch the rain fall. I listen to the rhythm of the rain as it hits the eclectic canvas of earthly surfaces. I think to myself and consider how the rain connects the sky with the earth, and in essence they all become one.

Then I sit back and wish that, in much the way the rain connects the heaven and the earth, I would use love to connect our hearts.

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V.

We move forward:

With our eyes on the future, we remain aware of the past and in control of the present

At least we try our best.

"With each mistake we must surely be learning." It is a cycle where we will never stop learning, and indeed, where mistakes will be made as the Earth remains turning.

So in my free time I'll close my eyes and drift away -- humming the music stuck in my head.

Anybody may join me, nobody is required.

Thus spoke Serendipity





 There he was:

Why was it that these types of things always happened to him?

 

Looking into her eyes he noticed that usual horrible sinking feeling in his stomach.

 Except this time he liked it.

 

There was something about her that lured him. He was a stupid fish and she was holding the hook. There wasn't even any bait on it!

 
Why yes there was… the bait were here eyes. Eyes –that burned through him like the mist from a distant fire.

 

He took a deep breath
…at least he tried to take a deep breath.

 

Crap!  He had forgotten how to breathe.

 

Stupid! You look like an idiot

 She gave a slight smirk, almost as if she could read his mind.

 


Could she read his mind!

 

He had just seen half of her smile. His heart beat rapidly. Growing faster and faster.

 

What goes one on the other side of the room?

 

There He Stood.

There she stood.

 

All was still and all was silent. And yet...

 


There she stood, as refreshing as a soft breeze on a summer day

and there he stood, mystified by the music.

 

The music from his dreams, perhaps?

 


He felt a sensation in his left foot. He took a step forward.
What had he done!?

 

Slowly looking back up, he realized she was still there.
She hadn't run.

 

Two more steps.

 

His legs felt heavy, yet he was now two steps closer.

 

…She was smiling now.

 

…so was he

 

?———§———?

 Eternity lived within the the fleeting moment



Eclipse

Due to a more recent lunar eclipse I wanted to write of the beauty of the moon and its ability to influence us at times. It is a simple poem, but I like it.




Lovely Luna who doth steal light from the sun,
grace us with your image sweetly, thou shall not be outdone.

Tis no wonder couples sit snuggly under your magnetic allure
and vice-versa to the broken-hearted whose pain you may cure.

Before light there was darkness as you clearly attend,
as such you inspire us and our souls perhaps mend.