The Motley Choir Poem by Edmund V. Strolis
The Motley Choir
And so the lies of summer nights
Are shadows on a moonlight drive
Wind whipped shapes scatter
Time and space no longer matter
Let the wheels hiss
Let the city disappear
Let the ghosts return
Let the fever burn
Headlights pointing nowhere
A lunar landscape dancing by
Leave the ritual behind
With nothing left to find
What good are desires
What good philosophy
What good ambition
What good reason
We are no more to our destination
Then when it all began
Primitive eyes at last surrender
Cigarettes and dashboard glowing
Mayan ruins ahead it seems
Illusions of our highway dreams
Victims of our lust for curves
Puppets bent on building fences
Competing for the golden ring
Blinded by these foolish things
A fairy tale searching for an end
A motley choir without a song
Scattered dreams a cosmic debris
Travelers pretending to be free
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5/8/2024 12:56:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The title is both humorous Motley Choir and sad because this Motley Choir have no song. If we could not see the humor in this crazy world we would all go nuts. Below my interpretation of your poem, for what it's worth- There is a sense of clarity here.The poet seeing through the sheer emptiness of it all- the false, the artificial, the shallow. Most people resist this kind of seeing but the poet is willing to look.Even on this moonlit drive there is no escaping theses shadows.And yet time and space no longer matter it seems as though the poet has distance, freedom for he is the one that sees.
Yes we must see the humor or we are doomed. I have a book by Douglas Fairbanks called Laugh and Live. The joke is I won't read it. I am too busy laughing and living. Each laugh is a victory. A defiant exclamation of our resilience. Perhaps we are the pinnacle of creation. The universal wonder echoing laughter in the face of creation. This poem is the dark side that makes us appreciate the light. Yes so profoundly true we must see the humor. You encapsulate because you understand and I can congratulate myself because I understand that you understand. Where has circumstance landed us Norah? Right where we are, open eyed and content within a balance. Not the balance of a trapeze walker but the balance of a swallow's tipped wing. Time will consume the careful and courageous alike. Humor is courageous, laughter triumphant.