Waiting for the Fall

It's almost impossible to think of the most intense passions without coming up with bad poetry. Of course even with passions the circus back home is front-and-center in my consciousness. The political situation in the Philippines would turn off most people; I am glued to the set finding out reason or rhyme to this whole mess.

My only comment for all the opportunistic politicians is: Ang kakapal n'yo!

Back to poetry... I remember this wonderful piece by Byron which Ron Perlman read during the series "Beauty and the Beast" (in the '80s, when Linda Hamilton was still relevant).

She Walks In Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade more, one ray less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron (1788-1824)

"The First Time I Loved Forever" from that show was also a poignant song... posting this, I am aware that I am reaching for catharsis, but I want to avoid writing any more bad poetry, as evidenced by this comment. Spontaneous gusts of emotion may seem to carry the whole world on your shoulders, but it's still third-rate writing.

I've learned that emotion too, while filling the life of a romance, is not what would create a great relationship. I'm still young enough to savor the juvenile dreams I had, but I no longer have the alacrity to jump at the prospect of a possible relationship.

Erich Fromm writes: "Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence." Does it make my life less that I have no one specific to share my life with? My friends in the religious say that one's existence takes on a greater relevance when there is a mission. It's strange but when I revisit my own statements, I'm actually doing what I wrote down.

So why do I still feel alone? Do I need to fall in love again?

Only the Lord knows.

"Blessed are those who long to give all the time to God and shake themselves free of all the trammels of this world. My soul, here is something for you to heed; shut fast the doors that comes through the senses, that so you hear what the Lord your God is speaking within you."
--- Thomas a Kempis, the Imitation of Christ