Uncategorized

Anataraxia

When young, you feel immortal- you are not-,
And what you think or know, believe or are
Is quite beside the point of having fun,

You chase & squeeze emotions' moments far
Too far for good or bad; you've really got
To make things last, the laughing, crying, one-
And-only chance & shot at life, its singing,
Dancing, smoking, drinking, fucking joke....

Perhaps you seem the master as the slave
To your emotions; weak, in thrall, yet crave
Submission's safetys? Ataraxia's charms
Attract you seldom; peace for other folk,
An hellish, mental war for you, bringing
And conflating joys with selfish harms?

L. A. Barron

[21/8/2018]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s