Month: June 2017
YESTERDAY, I POSTED THE LYRICS OF A NEW SONG ENTITLED “SOPHIA”. Here’s a little commentary about it, taking the concept a stage further. On the surface, the song is about a recurring dream I have, in which I powerfully encounter the “perfect” woman or archetypal feminine entity (hence the title, “Sophia”). But behind this, there is so much more implicated, which has a bearing on the quality of life we lead. For when two people come together in an intimate union here on earth, in this dimension, it’s also emblematic of our oneness with all things. The human being doesn’t really like separation, whether emotional, psychological or physical. This is because it is not our natural state. So, behind every genuine love story there lies a deeper significance, because we’re all — either knowingly or not — trying to find our way back “home”, our pre-existential state. (Even in the womb we still enjoyed that oneness with the mother, even while we gradually morphed into a separate entity). In human existence, we live in this temporary illusion of individuated consciousness, as if we are separate entities. But behind all that is the interconnectedness of all things. The intimately loving union between two souls mirrors this connection; which is why, symbolically, we chase it down so avidly in this life. Even sex addicts are acting out the desire to take away the pain of separation and find a comforting oneness in union with another (though because it is pathological, neurotic and devoid of love, it is never fulfilling and just becomes a painful endless and fruitless search through countless sexual partners). There is no greater epiphany or revelation than understanding the way that an intimately loving union between two souls mirrors the union we have with all things at a higher dimensional level. When that mirror is realised by both lovers in a relationship in which they have come together for reasons of pure love rather than attempting to fulfil some inadequacy in themselves, then there can be no insecurities, no conflicts, no defensiveness, no grasping or controlling, no bitching, no griping, no pushing, no manipulating, no self-centredness, no “acting out” of any kind — in other words, nothing which can disrupt the relationship is tolerated or even necessary.
I saw your face in a dream.
It had a wild kind of theme.
Light in your eyes
when I saw your face in a dream.
I wandered far through that night;
higher than birds go in flight.
We were there —
when I wandered far through that night.
The more my years have multiplied,
the more I’ve come to realise
that even more important
than mere love
For love is soon misunderstood
misused abused and trampled on
and has as many meanings as
its theatre actors choose to give,
who live by their escapist dreams,
believing pheromones, it seems,
and so much wanting to be loved
that they will heed whatever words
some cad will whisper in their ear
(for almost everything is ruled
by fear of death, abandonment —
which are the warp and woof of
all that stands between ourselves
and evidence of love through grace).
Romance is dead. Therefore, long live true love!
When all worth saying has been said, I raise
my hat and bow my head, remove the glove
which romance uses well to mask love’s blaze.
Romance, I now pronounce you dead and gone.
You once amused me with your froth and dreams
when I was young and hung my hat upon
a plethora of June-Moon-Spoonly schemes.
Live dangerously! and grasp that nettle
by the leaves — the rose by its spiky thorns
(ignoring the allure of each petal) —
then grab the bullock by its gory horns.
Be sure you never quickly turn away
when darkness rears its ugly little head.
Walk naked straight into the maelstrom fray
regardless if it leaves you there for dead.
There is a price to be paid for perfectionism’s
purple pros(e)aically prejudiced plume
which we can grownly assume is roughly equal to:
ª The harsh disapproval directed one’s way
[for high expectations will always dismay
as low self-esteem and a lack of resolve
result in resentment, so none get involved!].
ª The aloneness one has (dressed in freedom’s disguise)
[for almost the whole world will run for their lives
when they hear of the earnest desire to preserve
one’s nature unswervingly: “He’s got a nerve!”]