Saturday, July 14, 2012

Charitable Contradiction

Dost thou not understand you have a mouth
Just as capable of taking for your
Very own self what you desire? South
Of you lies the person, the main line shore
By which all the sea washes upon tides
Of sand, without which nothing could be done!
Had you approached him yourself, at your side
Wisdom to guide you, you'd have now won
The battle that you seek from me; but you
Persist in fighting yourself with a comb
Of self deceit, a frustrating little
Bone that you pick with yourself so that true
Progress cannot be made, hide behind, moan
To my person without a second ill
Thought about how you could have done with all
That besets your person without my fee!
Is not man made to speak? But how to speak
When man does not appreciate the call
He is bidden to to take, without which weak
Minded fools do propagate the hall
And cause all sorts of ruckus from their cries
Of anguish! Such bitter discontent, like
Pearls cast before swine would be my teachings,
Their wailing tears and petty schoolboy sighs
Would drown out any good cheer from my psych!
Indeed they do appear to be leeching
From a kind hearted soul what they cannot
Achieve for themselves, having blocked their way
With complaints and bitter resentment, sought
No more than a penny among a stay
In millions worth of Gold! Such is the find
Of potential in their vast repetoire
Of skills! And it pains me to see myself
Run from them all, having tried every mean
To accomplish in them a small pitance
Of understanding as to how they shelf
Wisdom in exchange for small comforts, glean
Nothing from the many converses, chance
Upon a excuse as if it were such
A rare find that they must excuse every
Other sense in their bodies so to use
It's ghastly being at the moment they touch
Upon it's presence in their mind; a sea
Were likely to stand between, such abuse
Is in store for those that try, they flee
From these beggars who do not learn to live,
Who fail to understand they're called to give
Of themselves as freely as is given
Unto them. So have I for years striven
To make them see themselves as fools of light
Who never seem to bother using  sight;
Do they wish to be healed? Then let them act
Within the parameters of their wish;
Let them give themselves over to a pact,
Then shall they be given a rod to fish
Out what they need from the waters of life.
So shall end both mine, and their unlucky strife.

                   Charitable Contradiction, (c) Luke Bennette, July 2012

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