Love Is Only Momentum - Poem by Philip Housiaux
Kinetic energy is like my experience of emotion
So powerful and painful and sad this is
to me, as energy is momentum, p = mv.
And so subject to time’s degrading forces
and the pressures of space and friction, that
impact velocity and mass, only to cause
disappointment and a mess.
Momentum killing machine that is me.
I am ashamed of my failures in love and liberty
of Soul, that causes such wanton agony.
Should I not be more like growth and a tree
than direct and unchanging apathy, that
is momentum, and bleak as a ball rolling
for no good reason. How desolate to know
that my most noble thought, is mere tendency.
They don’t tell you, miserable discovery
that momentum is a polished billiard ball
that bowls and rolls, is so menacing, mean and heavy.
That is so ill-disciplined and heartless, as
to frictionlessly cruise on in selfish lithe hedonism.
Yet falls and drops and diverts and bumps
and rumbles by and slows and falters and is
not what it claimed to be, but is dishonest bloody trickery!
To be: a sought after meaning of momentum
for me? Well it is idealism and love,
and therefore not free. I could say it is the
love of me, after all I am redeemed and filled
lifted up glorious new in Divine energy.
A fresh beginning with hope and healing
my momentum now a massaging radiance and feeling.
But low and behold the momentum in me
is mostly a source of degrading forces that
ashame me and so little benefit the world
for public good or private greed – so much
for transduction of rolling motion into superior living.
Where is God to correct my Soul’s momentum?
That is the faith problem for me, after all
I am redeemed born new to love and life and me.
How can my momentum be so dark and
selfish and driven, aren’t I not a man of
love and vision, not a soulless accident of momentum -
rather given, to the universe and Heaven.
Comments about Love Is Only Momentum by Philip Housiaux
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You