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greenstormEvening reading poetry with Angus, searching for a piece he can use to audition. Two specific things I picked out for tonight for myself:
Lecturing My Body
Here's the deal: You
take care of me,
I'll take care of you.
The body's a car
Whatever's-not-the-car,
that's the driver.
Or the car's an animal,
the driver a zookeeper.
The animal's a ditch,
the zookeeper a wheelbarrow.
A wheelbarrow bringing
tobacco, whiskey
& even love because,
well, just because.
By Jefferson Carter
“I’m going to Hell,” I said.
“Fire and brimstone,” said the creature, “is best avoided.”
“Not that,” I said. “That’s a stupid kind of Hell.”
“Oh?” it asked. “What is Hell, then?”
“It’s not torture,” I said. “Pain is just sensation. I mean, humans are really good at this kind of thing, and demons are even better, and I’m sure that you can always make torture last one day longer and make it one note harder to bear. But pain is just sensation. Torture is just sensation. It’s not suffering until it makes you suffer. And Hell is eternal suffering.”
“What is suffering?”
“Suffering is when you can’t accept the pain,” I said. “And it’s normally self-limiting, because people automatically accept the pain they’re used to. Most humans are so used to walking around at the bottom of an atmosphere that we forget how much it hurts. And we’re so used to not having our jaws ripped off every few days that we forget how nice and amazingly cool that never happening is. But sometimes you can’t accept the pain. You want to fly. You want to transcend. You want an apple and you can’t have one. You want the pain to stop. You want something. You want something that’s right, and proper, and something that you can’t have. And that’s suffering.”
“So what is Hell?”
“A place where there’s something you can’t let go of,” I said. “It’s a place where there’s something so bad that you can’t accept it. Where there’s something you don’t have that’s strong enough to cling to forever and ever. It’s a place where you can’t just close your eyes and let go of the pain and the fear. It’s a place where there’s something you can’t stop wanting.”
The creature considered. After a time, it said, “I would recommend against going there, because you would certainly suffer.”
From Hitherby Dragons
I love reading poetry aloud. Love it so much. Especially the first time or two, as you familiarize yourself with the poem. Anyone who will do that with me goes on the good list automagically.
Lecturing My Body
Here's the deal: You
take care of me,
I'll take care of you.
The body's a car
Whatever's-not-the-car,
that's the driver.
Or the car's an animal,
the driver a zookeeper.
The animal's a ditch,
the zookeeper a wheelbarrow.
A wheelbarrow bringing
tobacco, whiskey
& even love because,
well, just because.
By Jefferson Carter
“I’m going to Hell,” I said.
“Fire and brimstone,” said the creature, “is best avoided.”
“Not that,” I said. “That’s a stupid kind of Hell.”
“Oh?” it asked. “What is Hell, then?”
“It’s not torture,” I said. “Pain is just sensation. I mean, humans are really good at this kind of thing, and demons are even better, and I’m sure that you can always make torture last one day longer and make it one note harder to bear. But pain is just sensation. Torture is just sensation. It’s not suffering until it makes you suffer. And Hell is eternal suffering.”
“What is suffering?”
“Suffering is when you can’t accept the pain,” I said. “And it’s normally self-limiting, because people automatically accept the pain they’re used to. Most humans are so used to walking around at the bottom of an atmosphere that we forget how much it hurts. And we’re so used to not having our jaws ripped off every few days that we forget how nice and amazingly cool that never happening is. But sometimes you can’t accept the pain. You want to fly. You want to transcend. You want an apple and you can’t have one. You want the pain to stop. You want something. You want something that’s right, and proper, and something that you can’t have. And that’s suffering.”
“So what is Hell?”
“A place where there’s something you can’t let go of,” I said. “It’s a place where there’s something so bad that you can’t accept it. Where there’s something you don’t have that’s strong enough to cling to forever and ever. It’s a place where you can’t just close your eyes and let go of the pain and the fear. It’s a place where there’s something you can’t stop wanting.”
The creature considered. After a time, it said, “I would recommend against going there, because you would certainly suffer.”
From Hitherby Dragons
I love reading poetry aloud. Love it so much. Especially the first time or two, as you familiarize yourself with the poem. Anyone who will do that with me goes on the good list automagically.
