It has been lost
In American Culture,
the idea of laughing, crying,
mourning, celebrating
around a table filled with food.
Nothing is lonelier,
than staring into a half eaten casserole
with microwave directions.

I once spoke to a cat,
about god.
You see, cats have no need for it.
They are content,
to be the most selflessly selfish beings,
next to humans.
(or in the laps of, to be more accurate)
She told me, in her own way,
that the way to be sanguine
is through a multitude of surrenders.
To yourself.

Everyone relies,
on what they have been taught to most deny.
Hatred and intolerance are at the root,
the core we drive ourselves to reach.
So perhaps the reason that no one ever achieves enlightenment,
is because they stop just short of the truth,
because they fear what they know they will find.

Life is merely a bear trap for bad news.

(I wrote this three days after the death of a good friend, I was supposed to make a dinner for her family and realized I did not own a casserole dish. The other two parts are just a reflection of what I was feeling at the time, about life and death)

hmrush wrote:It has been lost
In American Culture,
the idea of laughing, crying,
mourning, celebrating
around a table filled with food.
Nothing is lonelier,
than staring into a half eaten casserole
with microwave directions.

I once spoke to a cat,
about god.
You see, cats have no need for it.
They are content,
to be the most selflessly selfish beings,
next to humans.
(or in the laps of, to be more accurate)
She told me, in her own way,
that the way to be sanguine
is through a multitude of surrenders.
To yourself.

Everyone relies,
on what they have been taught to most deny.
Hatred and intolerance are at the root,
the core we drive ourselves to reach.
So perhaps the reason that no one ever achieves enlightenment,
is because they stop just short of the truth,
because they fear what they know they will find.

Life is merely a bear trap for bad news.

(I wrote this three days after the death of a good friend, I was supposed to make a dinner for her family and realized I did not own a casserole dish. The other two parts are just a reflection of what I was feeling at the time, about life and death)

I bolded the above lines because they are beautiful and true. There is nothing lonelier than a single-serve microwave dinner.

A poetry professor I had during my stint in grad school said that oftentimes the real poem begins with the last line. I believe this is true here. Not that the rest of the poem is faulty, but that all of the emotion is boiling up and finally explodes at the last line, which is the naked truth of the emotion, stripped of the mental process that got you there.

I'd be interested to see you write a poem with this same emotional influence that begins, "Life is merely a bear trap for bad news."

Thank you so much for sharing. I'll have some up soon, as well, and I'd love to hear what you think.

I will definitely consider starting a new poem the way you suggested, I often reuse lines. Or mix up different poems to make a better one. Thank you so much for your comments!

Any time. I look forward to having more of yours to comment on.

Thank you for the poem. I hope to read more.

I love the imagery in this poem. As I read, I could see it playing out before me.
(And my cats would agree about their "selflessly selfish" behavior!)