The Spock Syndrome Poem by Mary Champion

THE SPOCK SYNDROME
8/1/2017

Some live in their head
and so, they don't dread
outrageous ideas
that might provoke fears
and terrified tears,
as their world falls apart: -

Those who live in their heart.

Though a mind, at its height,
takes outrageous delight
when the words it has said
turn the world on its head.
Offers nothing but dread
to a heart racked with shock
roughly torn from its rock;
its dependable base
in an inconstant place.

And the higher it gets;
the more it forgets
that this heart is the source
of its ultimate force.
And, when they divorce,
its strength will be gone,
though the heart still fights on.
 
Until chaos defeats
its last frantic beats.
Then the heart will succumb
to the depths it has plumbed,
while the mind, long struck dumb,
will be too weak to name
its unbearable pain.

Shallow minds can't eschew
their blind greed for the new.
Those traditions and rites,
classed as childish and trite,
the heart clings to in spite
of contempt; as it pleads
for its bodily needs.

In its ivory tower,
all drunk with its power,
Mind comes to believe
it alone can achieve
what it takes to relieve
the dark that was part
of Mankind from the start.

But the thing that was planned
is the matter in hand.
And a theory can't tie
the loose ends of the lie.
It's wise men know why
our eternal salvation
is a stable location.