The Function of Motion
We come into this world a little span
To make our best of situations as
Present themselves, and all too quickly pass;
Sometimes we solve them well, sometimes we can
Not, even though we work and strive and plan
To best of our ability—alas!--
And soon enough, the world in its race has
Outrun us, and we die. This has been an
Inevitable facet of our lives
We must remain content with, and, content,
Continue making sure that time is spent
Rightly; that honorable motive drives
Us forward, that goodwill survives and thrives
Within us, not remaining in breast pent
But manifest in outward action, sent
Into the world, through love, which meaning gives
Unto our movement and makes manifest
Innate divinity within our being.
There are so many blinders on our seeing,
So many hidden troubles which may nest
Along our way, unseen, but which are guessed
At merely, wisdom of the past agreeing
In our conclusions, thereby somewhat freeing
Our hearts from doubts and fears which may arrest
Forward progression. Thus we forward move
Impelled, as always, by necessity
Inherent in our bones, for we must be
Wary of that stagnation that will prove
A nemesis against us in the groove
We follow, bred since pre-antiquity
In all the pattern of our ancestry
Shape-shifting, never fixed, as fate behoove.
From the unknown, although there have been guesses,
To the unknown, we wind a crazy road,
Which though our fathers’ fathers may have strode
Before, perplexes, and the heart confesses
Its inability, which it expresses
In communal song, poetic ode,
Which men repeat to ease their mental load
Though the material increase its stresses.
There is a unity that must be born
Amongst all men, in perfect brotherhood,
To strive for which can only be seen good,
While vain self-seeking with which some adorn
Must the community reprove with scorn
Because, above all else, it understood
Through failure internecine havoc would
Undermine trust, and each man’s word be worn.
Two forces there are, countermanding this:
The artist and the woman, both adept
At charging particles that would have slept
Without their interference. The first is
Necessary in skirting the abyss,
Miniscule traps that must be over-stepped
In form of the delusions which have crept
Into men’s minds, assuming shape of bliss,
Though tension there be introduced into
The culture of society, it must
Be tolerated, men have faith and trust
That fate’s extravagance will see them through
Their moments of uncertainty, renew
Stability and order that is just
Freed from interpretations that encrust
As lack of motion is inclined to do.
The artist’s purview is such an effect,
Without which men are lost, not realizing,
Since preconceptions can be hypnotizing
And the unwitting mind may not suspect
Potential failings: truth may not be wrecked
Though it will surely show itself surprising,
At times untoward or at times tantalizing--
Thereby integrity such art protect.
Divisive is the woman, as self-seeker,
To the integrity of all the tribe,
Wherefore the ancients sought to circumscribe
The ill-effects this so-called vessel “weaker”
Promotes in acting, never truly meeker
Than her compeers, but with threat, bluff or jibe
That all from her conception must imbibe
And that unjust, unto them ever-bleaker.
Therefore as inextricably made linked,
Unable to survive without the other,
Each sex self-seeking absolutely smother,
Communication be compact, succinct
Between them that not either be hoodwinked
By false prevarication; one another
Receiving with accord, man to his brother
Not chary based on feminine instinct,
Or never that alone. To so be bandied
Deprives him of all place, all rightful pride
That ought not be from any man denied
Nor force him to be prettified and dandied,
Though he were given promises sweet, candied
Expression of love which were falsified
As proves untrue as soon as it gets tried,
Nor it gets bought with chocolate bon bons brandied.
As humankind proceeds, a juggernaut,
A woman thus cleave to her man despite
Such apprehensions as she justly might
Feel dancing in her breast; for so is fraught
Their way with perils, leading unto naught
Except she acquiesce her appetite
Before proclivity, remain contrite
Perpetually, then he become distraught--
And once distraught, thus they arrive to doom.
In adolescence, thus each of the sexes
Receive initiation, or else vexes
Their way, with little chance for hope to bloom,
As all sustaining matter self-consume
Too rapidly, that has to be the nexus
In self-renewing plenty that complex is
And symbiotic, for both bride and groom.
Unlike the artist, woman that permits
Indulgence into that creative urge
Which calls to be outstanding and diverge
Apart from expectation merely flits
Aimlessly in a vacuum; which yet gets
The animosity for such a splurge
From such as would that rude behavior purge,
Enforcing of their gender by their wits.
We must proceed. Some men as excellent
In service to the body of their peers,
To all mankind, with action as endears
To all in spirit, these men have been meant
To be our leaders, and by our consent
Receive, as we with them cross new frontiers
Of peril, honors suited to their years
Which to their worth is but accoutrement.
We value “rule by laws” but rule without
Men of good character, in virtue strong,
There is no way to steer the flock from wrong,
But even with good laws, crime will grow stout,
Bold in its aspiration, seeking clout,
Seeking to stand out from the motley throng
And ostracizing those that don’t belong
According to precepts that garner doubt.