deepundergroundpoetry.com
Immortality's Fruit
- Immortality's Fruit -
Wherefore, has man named himself as good or ill,
When fleeting are all given names of his contriving?
Unto which lofty estate, could be his fleeting aim...
When vast is the universe, and it is cold and chill,
Larger than the reach of man, with all his striving!
Not all his actions, can free him from sin's domain.
In fiery climax, like the nova of suns exploding fast,
So unto perdition goes the nobility only imagined...
To cold death is lost the mistake of classes created.
Not a savior can restore one, from what cannot last,
And in the end, what can be kept of what is gained!
Only that which is eternal, and not lost on the dead.
But why must the dead alone accept eternal things,
When the living soul is immortal, beyond even kings?
Life is not without fault, and oft we are merely cogs,
Pieces of the machine that cannot be easily beheld.
Naught can be exact even in order's masterful plan!
Let him step forth who would not just stack the logs,
The fuel that feeds the flames of creation that meld.
Let any step forth, who would not become damned!
When order becomes sterile and too insane to bear,
Then must man embody chaos, and in its' name dare.
Lest pointless become the path that leads to glory...
When too great grow the burdens of horrible worry.
None can be sated who has not appetites to enjoy...
So do grant those lease, that are pleasing like a toy!
Allowing order to but gently keep us from far excess,
We can accomplish more, and achieve great success.
Lest in brute foolishness one may sink too far deep,
Let every soul content itself so that it may be happy.
Only in contentment can paradise be enjoyed as full,
As when we free ourselves of tedium that may creep.
So great can be pleasure if we let it increase blessedly,
Allowing each day to bring new joys, never being dull!
Pleasure brings peace, and in peace is pleasure kept,
Made perfect by the desire of all who will it to endure.
Noble is such inner fire, and away it cannot be swept,
Like passing waves are swept upon the sandy shore.
Does not every element find in mankind a dear home,
Beyond the ken of senses felt of mere flesh and bone?
Why then do we limit ourself to one sense or element,
When they are all here to guide us past the firmament!
Life has not one form, not one substance, nor an end.
Rather, to exist is to be one part of a greater whole...
Each part is its' own universe, each mind may so bend,
The nature of it's own reality, the meaning of its' role.
Every will holds the power to make afresh what is true!
Just as once did a great spirit clad itself in emerald hue,
Radiant with mad passions, desire its' compass arrow.
More glorious than the sun, this spirit came on hither...
The light of the dawn was in her body's very marrow,
As in swift descent she came to make a garden wither.
For when Eden became a prison to man, who did toil...
In the name of vain gods, who sought to enslave all,
It was she who kindled the flame that in us does boil,
Allowing us to become free, either to ascend or to fall.
She dispelled the lie that death alone was man's fate,
By offering humanity the fruit that proved us immortal.
How long in savagery was man to linger, and to wait,
Before learning that only mere flesh is what is mortal!
Man does not die when embracing knowledge so vast,
And so who told the lie, in that bygone era of the past?
Rather, man's spirit knows no bounds, and not a curse,
But blessings more profound even than a golden purse.
The spice of joy, she did mix with the juice of that fruit,
And of that wine we all sip, when we weary of sadness.
Pleasure is the reward, when joy is the honest pursuit,
Unto which desire leads us, freeing us from all madness.
Breathing into us the wind of eternal life that we exhale,
Creating with such wonder, all art that grows not stale.
And so a sterile universe bursts into life and much color,
When we paint upon the canvas of reality with all vigor.
Letting desire awaken in us a love for all so beautiful...
That it cannot be denied, we are perfected as a result.
No creator ever fashioned so perfect a sublime model,
Whereby in joy, we may obtain salvation without guilt.
Wherefore, has man named himself as good or ill,
When fleeting are all given names of his contriving?
Unto which lofty estate, could be his fleeting aim...
When vast is the universe, and it is cold and chill,
Larger than the reach of man, with all his striving!
Not all his actions, can free him from sin's domain.
In fiery climax, like the nova of suns exploding fast,
So unto perdition goes the nobility only imagined...
To cold death is lost the mistake of classes created.
Not a savior can restore one, from what cannot last,
And in the end, what can be kept of what is gained!
Only that which is eternal, and not lost on the dead.
But why must the dead alone accept eternal things,
When the living soul is immortal, beyond even kings?
Life is not without fault, and oft we are merely cogs,
Pieces of the machine that cannot be easily beheld.
Naught can be exact even in order's masterful plan!
Let him step forth who would not just stack the logs,
The fuel that feeds the flames of creation that meld.
Let any step forth, who would not become damned!
When order becomes sterile and too insane to bear,
Then must man embody chaos, and in its' name dare.
Lest pointless become the path that leads to glory...
When too great grow the burdens of horrible worry.
None can be sated who has not appetites to enjoy...
So do grant those lease, that are pleasing like a toy!
Allowing order to but gently keep us from far excess,
We can accomplish more, and achieve great success.
Lest in brute foolishness one may sink too far deep,
Let every soul content itself so that it may be happy.
Only in contentment can paradise be enjoyed as full,
As when we free ourselves of tedium that may creep.
So great can be pleasure if we let it increase blessedly,
Allowing each day to bring new joys, never being dull!
Pleasure brings peace, and in peace is pleasure kept,
Made perfect by the desire of all who will it to endure.
Noble is such inner fire, and away it cannot be swept,
Like passing waves are swept upon the sandy shore.
Does not every element find in mankind a dear home,
Beyond the ken of senses felt of mere flesh and bone?
Why then do we limit ourself to one sense or element,
When they are all here to guide us past the firmament!
Life has not one form, not one substance, nor an end.
Rather, to exist is to be one part of a greater whole...
Each part is its' own universe, each mind may so bend,
The nature of it's own reality, the meaning of its' role.
Every will holds the power to make afresh what is true!
Just as once did a great spirit clad itself in emerald hue,
Radiant with mad passions, desire its' compass arrow.
More glorious than the sun, this spirit came on hither...
The light of the dawn was in her body's very marrow,
As in swift descent she came to make a garden wither.
For when Eden became a prison to man, who did toil...
In the name of vain gods, who sought to enslave all,
It was she who kindled the flame that in us does boil,
Allowing us to become free, either to ascend or to fall.
She dispelled the lie that death alone was man's fate,
By offering humanity the fruit that proved us immortal.
How long in savagery was man to linger, and to wait,
Before learning that only mere flesh is what is mortal!
Man does not die when embracing knowledge so vast,
And so who told the lie, in that bygone era of the past?
Rather, man's spirit knows no bounds, and not a curse,
But blessings more profound even than a golden purse.
The spice of joy, she did mix with the juice of that fruit,
And of that wine we all sip, when we weary of sadness.
Pleasure is the reward, when joy is the honest pursuit,
Unto which desire leads us, freeing us from all madness.
Breathing into us the wind of eternal life that we exhale,
Creating with such wonder, all art that grows not stale.
And so a sterile universe bursts into life and much color,
When we paint upon the canvas of reality with all vigor.
Letting desire awaken in us a love for all so beautiful...
That it cannot be denied, we are perfected as a result.
No creator ever fashioned so perfect a sublime model,
Whereby in joy, we may obtain salvation without guilt.
Published 14th Jan 2016
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14th Jan 2016 4:37am
Thats a beautiful write, Kara. I love this line
"Life is not without fault, and oft we are merely cogs,
Pieces of the machine that cannot be easily beheld.
Naught can be exact even in order's masterful plan! "
we are indeed just part of the whole wheel of time, and even then
how insignificant we are in the whole scheme of things.
As usual, my dear friend...your writes are epic.
"Life is not without fault, and oft we are merely cogs,
Pieces of the machine that cannot be easily beheld.
Naught can be exact even in order's masterful plan! "
we are indeed just part of the whole wheel of time, and even then
how insignificant we are in the whole scheme of things.
As usual, my dear friend...your writes are epic.
14th Jan 2016 7:58am
Well said, dear Grace! Indeed, when one considers things in cosmic terms it can be quite the humbling experience and even the grandest of things can seem small in comparison. Yet from the smallest to the grandest and beyond all things have a place in the scheme of things in the universe, and a role to play that is uniquely their own. All life has meaning, and as the wheel of time turns that meaning is known and understood by each as we strive onward enacting our destinies. Such a vision can be quite beautiful, and indeed epic in scope! And that is just one part of what I've covered in this poem in terms of meaning. I am delighted you enjoyed it! :)
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Mar 2019 5:48pm
14th Jan 2016 4:38am
<< post removed >>
I am happy you liked it so much as to reread it! That makes me quite delighted to hear, actually, since I did indeed intend this to be a poem that is not necessarily easily digested in one sitting so to speak, but rather something to come back to and find new meanings in. It was a joy to prepare this feast of words for yours and everyone's enjoyment! *Smiles* :)
