Blessed Foolishness

m parkes inappropriate love
from my favorite artist Michael Parkes

After belaboring sowing and reaping,

and reminding that Karma is a bitch,

I laud blessed foolishness.

There are things in our living

that can make tricksters of us.

Absolute fools.

The high card of them all

is love.

Praise affection

familial and friendly.

For me, nothing compares to

Eros —

Who sets one cockeyed silly bombastic

earthmoving and roving,

melt-earth-and-rocks foolish.

I do experience this

addicting affliction in my lifetime.

It is fully irrational,

falling to pieces to give all my pieces away.

Mister Toad’s wild ride careens

between crashing chaos and

pummeling wind

euphoria

mounting the silken enchanted carpet.

This love takes body, soul, goods and

sanity.

Foreshadowing of the searing slicing

pain

of Eros’ love’s end

haunts, bites and blunts.

It leaves me with

gratitude

that I live authentically

recklessly

from my foolish smitten heart.

I lose all. I find all.

No one can take this away —

body and soul are knit.

I am the fool clown for love.

I live on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

REMAINS

familiar
Online Art

Of all the people I ever met, I thought I knew you the most intimately.

Of all the people I ever knew, I loved you the most fiercely.

Of all the people I ever loved, I was the most wide open to you.

Of all the people in all my life, you knew

most thoroughly my inner and outer terrain.

And yet, until that evil day,

you began to believe her lies about me,

there did not exist a love pure as mine for you.

And yet, you withdrew.

Body, soul, heart untrue.

 

WARNING

crying angel

Dear friend,

If you are enjoying a stable life for even a few moments each day,

do not fall in love.

If you have no attachments, protect this peace of mind.

Do not fall in love.

 

Falling in love is a drug with strange side effects.

The more you need him, the less he will want you.

So never need him.

The more you give, the more he will crave —

and at the same time — become barren of ideas of how to include you in his life.

The more time you spend obsessing about him, the less time he will have for you.

 

It defies explanation — the effects of this addiction to diminishing dreams and

shifting personas.

 

If I have reached you when it is already too late (ah, poor woman, you succumbed to the fantasy of love again), I have recommendation.

Forget any expectations you have of him.

Surrender.

Surrender to his fading interest.

Surrender to his undying attention to the demands of all others in his life.

Surrender to reality.

Surrender to seeing him everywhere you look —

every moment, every day with nothing to compare.

Surrender to your paradise lost — having never really been gained.

 

To reiterate it simply,

do everything in your power to never fall in love.

Surrender to daily life,

but do not fall in love.

 

But you will fall in love.

And so will I.