A feather’s slight brush
judiciously applied incites even
the strongest of beasts to start
or stamp their feet or
snort relief.
The ceaseless wind,
ceaseless no more, gathered itself
as the sword of Socrates slid
past heart and lungs
the beast sneezed
forcing me from the promontory
in a whirling tempest that
could not be denied –
I exited the celestial creature in
manner unlike my entrance;
impaled upon my own sword
my only feather
a clutched Quill,
I fell spiraling, a fallen star
towards the good Earth
burning in
flames internal
the Quill in my hand
grew
and became the deck of
my ship as it was
before the crash
on Dream’s rocky shore.
Standing on the forecastle
in the spot that Kleos claimed
were the members of my crew:
Bigotry and Prejudice, Ignorance and Fear
Hatred and Envy, Greed and Vengeance.
One by one, I called them forth
and put each of them to the sword
with mercy and cognition
applied the unity of opposites
and transformed them into their twin:
Greed became Self Sacrifice and Vengeance became Forgiveness
Hatred and Envy bowed to Compassion and Tranquility
Bigotry and Prejudice fell to Empathy and Understanding.
Only Ignorance and Fear, my faithful companions
could not be vanquished with Socrates’ sword
so I enjoined Curiosity and Courage
as their wardens and marked their
placement near the bowsprit.
Satisfied, I noticed another figure
seated and in thought
in the space where the wheel
should spin sat a man
balding and serene; before him
a short pedestal made of mud
and on that
a game of Nine men’s morris arrayed
and engaged.
Wordlessly, I approached and
sat in the opposition’s spot –
he, deeply engrossed in the state of play
with a nod shifted one of the stones.
“Are you Charon, here to ferry me
across?” I asked.
He looked up from the board and shook
his head. “No goddess ever wet clay and left
it, as if there would be bricks by chance
and good fortune.” He replied. “I am glad to see
my sword used in the manner intended.
You think your journey ended?
Has Beauty’s vision been apprehended?
Have the choices been made that must be made?
For it is authority, not wisdom that
makes a law.” Socrates said.
“You speak of destiny and
free will in the same breath.
Do not the two cancel?” I asked.
Philosophy paused and gestured to the board
“Knowledge is like good taste
not everyone has it
or having it
have it to the same degree.
Prescience is a knowledge that
mortals have as well.
The best do so by
combining the patterns of history
with the wisdom of human nature
yet even they see only
through a glass stain’d and
none to the degree of an
intelligence divine.
Worry little over the workings
of what will be;
instead, keep in
mind Kleos’ apopemptic:
Chase after Truth and Goodness
and Beauty will hurry to catch up.
This is also true of prophecy.”
“What is the good?” I asked,
“For all think they know and
it is clear they do not.”
Socrates placed a stone on the board
and said, “The good comes
in many forms: some say it is
identical to the pleasant, or
what women and men desire, or
a property of being or existence, or
that which conforms to the nature of a thing, or
that which is approved by reason.
I say it is all of these and more, not only a state
unto itself but that which conforms to
the solution of the eternal paradox.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Existence.” He said.
“A paradox is two things,
in opposition
distinct by definition
yet inseparable by nature.
This is a very good
definition of the universe itself:
That which is and that which isn’t
bound together to form something
greater than the other.
Recall the lesson of the drowsy sword –
draw your existence up within
yourself and know
misery no longer.”
As Philosophy spoke these words
the sun stepp’d over the horizon
and I knew my first dawning
as a person complete
able to forgive
by seeing myself in the other
and allowing the other to see itself in me –
that the ship I built so long
ago was now rebuilt
by Dream’s rocky shore;
for the strength of the ship is the crew
and the strength of the crew is the ship.
Together, we turned our faces to the
dawn’s warming light;
I felt the ship bite water
and I tasted the salt spray
and knew the wheel was restored.
Now there’s something ticking
in my head, a yearning, a yearning in my head
out towards the horizon, the Cape of Aphrodite
beyond that twin cities with a port
and somewhere up above
a cave
where a fish picked a berry
once upon a time.
“The sole treasure I possess is my understanding and it is the greatest.” C.G. Jung
“No knowledge, no serious contemplation, no valid choice is possible until man has shaken himself free of everything that effects his conditioning, at every level of his existence.” Jacques LaCarriere
*The list of authors I have alluded to, referenced, or downright stolen from are:
Aristotle
Plato
Aquinas
Joseph Campbell
Cicero
The Codex Seraphinianus
William Blake
Plutarch
Hobbes
Milton
Montaigne
Jean-Baptiste du Tertre
1001 Arabian Nights
The Brothers Grimm
The Greek myths
The Pelasgian creation myth
Norse Creation myth
Cardinal Barberini (Pope Urban VIII)
I Samuel 24
Eric Gill
The religion of Candomble
William Shakespeare
Sylvia Plath
Rousseau
Chris Smart
Samuel Beckett
