Slack Poem by Etienne Charilaou

Slack



From beer and wine to coffee black.
Charles Bukowski came to mind.
How do I find
A way not to feel slack?

To achieve, to grow,
I beat myself so.
I wonder why
I don't let it go?

The leaden heart of
Darwinian causes,
The desire for
worldly applauses.

A climate change
Could freeze my heart.
A lesser being I could become.
Would it smart to lose my heart?
Or would all pain go -
O think not so!

In deadened self
A thing doth glow.
God's very soul
In me doth know.

A fount of all the good there be,
Awaiting its time
To shine eternally.

Friday, February 21, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: soul
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
I was waiting
for something extraordinary to happen
but as the years wasted on nothing ever did
unless I caused it.
Charles Bukowski


‘Furthermore, Eckhart courageously braved the charges of heresy by affirming that in every soul is the Divine Spirit ItSelf as its true Identity. Eckhart specifically declared that there is a non-creaturely "uncreated aspect of the soul, " which is always already perfectly one with God. A startling, shocking truth that elated the many mystics of his time who flocked to hear his electric sermons, and, predictably, angered the non-mystics whose stunted intuition could not resonate with what the Meister so beautifully spoke.'
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