The Desire to Survive

Our days are numbered by health, Heaven,

And disease-but still we approach time’s capricious

System with indifference. We rate ours hours

By the success of our desires and quantity

Of materiality which then measures

 

The quality of our greed.  

 

The fish in the sea only fear for their food-

Surely survival is the most smothering desire;

The squirrels in the trees only attempt to care

For the goods they can carry then store in their treasure

Coves. Guarding their husked jewels from dragons

And dwarves alike, the miniature kleptomaniacs

Live like kings behind rotting bark inside a beggar’s nest.

 

Our thoughts and dreams are much too scattered

To imagine this animal Shangri-La, let alone achieve.

 

Only the space-sprinters moonwalking between

Venus and Earth waving and mouthing hello

Behind a globed fishbowl and the mariners,

Swimming like merpeople down below

The depths of King Triton’s ocean, can know

 

What it feels like to solely request and require

A rush of air against oxygen-deprived lips-

To only desire the assurance of survival.

Cards made of plastic but treated like platinum

Or gold cannot act as credit in place of Charon’s coin;

Not even a studded or gilded casket will delay

The decay of corpses made of flesh, meat, and bone;

The grave is the truest retirement home for men,

Women, and children-paupers and princes alike.

Calling it a tomb only gives the ground an added,

Egyptian flair-dead men don’t need doors or roofs-

But sometimes the living cannot admit the reality,

And memories build an immortal shrine.

Reviews

[Echoes of Eros]

Your thoughts are so beautifully intimate, and yet so vast, reaching into the depths of heaven and hell. We journey the stars with you, utopian dreams, the legends of the sea and sky, and you bring us back to ponder our own existence; our own survival. Amazing, Sarah. xo