What form doth love take,
Says the liar to the fool?
Only corruption that one seeks,
Shall luck betwixt him,
And find him resolve to garnish such woe.
Love, that it forms a consummate path
Towards layered texture,
That it tangles itself within Creation,
And takes hold of such vessels,
Such vessels of man and woman,
Flesh fixed soul.
Can love surpass its containment;
Why does it mask itself,
Why reside simply within the construction
that is beast,
that is blood,
that is hide?
Burst forth,
Shining love,
And prove your extremities.
Author notes
Kierkegaard 'loves' to question the proponents of love, due its mysterious quality. One thought that boggled my mind was in relation to the idea of how love requires man as a vessel - it does not seem to exist (other than God and force), separate from him.
It is almost as if (alluding to Christianity here), that love chooses man as its appropriate, worldly constituent in which it can be made manifest.
A contest entry
- Food for the Famished Mind (NEED MORE ENTRIES!- ENTER!) by Shahrazad.
900 points, ended September 12, 2007, 19 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Fantastic
As ever brill! May the best man (or woman?) win...Good luck!! -
Magnificent! This is one that caused me to stop and think- exactly what I relish. Beautifully written- lovely mind. Thanks for entering it in the contest
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